Shade settled on Merlin's shoulder like a warm breath of air, pulsing with quiet contentment as the group walked down the corridor. The academy was winding down for the evening—torchlight dimming, windows glowing, students drifting toward dorms or late study sessions. It should've felt normal.
It didn't.
Every step Merlin took hummed faintly in his bones, like his mana was running a half-second ahead of his heartbeat, pulling his body along with it. Shade matched the rhythm perfectly, which only made the sensation sharper.
Elara noticed instantly.
She drifted closer until her arm brushed lightly against his. "You're overthinking," she murmured.
He snorted. "You think?"
"Yes," she said. "And you're doing it loudly."
Nathan jogged ahead, walking backward with hands shoved in his pockets. "So. What's the game plan? You've been declared magically grounded. Elara's emotionally compromised. Rowan's having a moral crisis. We need structure."
