The iron door groaned open.
For the first time since my arrest, I stepped into daylight.
The cuffs were gone.
My wrists felt strangely light without them, though the skin beneath still carried angry red marks.
Percy Network walked beside me with his leather briefcase tucked neatly beneath one arm. Two guards followed several steps behind, close enough to intervene if I attempted anything foolish.
Not that I intended to.
"There'll be a lot of noise," Percy said quietly.
"I gathered."
"Ignore it."
I looked at him.
"I'll try."
He offered me a reassuring smile.
"That's all I ask."
We rounded the last corner of the prison corridor.
Then I heard it.
A roar.
Not the orderly murmur of a courtroom.
A crowd.
Loud.
Restless.
Hungry.
My stomach tightened.
The doors leading into the courtyard swung open.
The world exploded.
Students flooded every balcony and pathway surrounding the Council Hall. Teachers stood in uneasy clusters.
Reporters shoved microphones over one another while camera flashes burst endlessly through the morning air.
The moment I appeared...
Silence.
Hundreds of eyes settled on me.
Someone whispered.
"That's her."
Another voice answered.
"The foreign girl."
"The human from the Black Colony."
"So that's Night Carter."
The whispers spread like wildfire.
Then they stopped being whispers.
"She bewitched him."
"I heard Dark Magians can manipulate people's minds."
"Poor Jordan."
Someone laughed.
Someone else pointed.
I heard Minata Strauss even before I saw her victorious eyes "She doesn't even look ashamed."
A crumpled paper ball struck my shoulder before falling harmlessly to the ground.
Another landed near my feet.
"Go back to the Black Colony!"
"Witch!"
"Beast lover!"
A girl no older than sixteen cupped her hands around her mouth.
"Execution!"
The word rippled through the crowd.
"Execution!"
"Execution!"
"Execution!"
I felt every pair of eyes on me.
Every judgment.
Every accusation.
Percy continued walking as though the crowd didn't exist.
Without turning his head, he murmured,
"Eyes forward."
I obeyed.
He said kindly "I know this feels personal."
"It is personal."
"It isn't."
That surprised me.
He continued "They aren't judging you."
I looked at him.
"They're judging the story they've already told themselves."
His words lingered in my mind.
Then...
The entire courtyard erupted.
A deafening scream tore through the crowd.
Not hatred.
Adoration.
"Jordan!"
The name echoed from every direction.
"Jordan!"
"Jordan Files!"
Students surged toward the opposite entrance, restrained only by rows of Council guards.
Camera crews abandoned me entirely.
Every lens swung toward the eastern corridor.
I turned despite myself.
Jordan emerged beneath the stone archway.
His hands were free.
He wore an immaculate expensive black shirt that looked as though he'd stepped out of a concert rather than a prison cell.
His hair had been brushed neatly back, his first eyes glittered , his posture effortlessly regal.
He looked...
Untouched.
Untouchable.
Flash.
Flash.
Flash.
Cameras erupted around him like lightning.
Girls screamed until their voices cracked.
"Jordan, we love you!"
"Free Jordan!"
"We're with you!"
Dozens of placards rose above the sea of heads.
FREE JORDAN.
HE WAS BEWITCHED.
OUR ALPHA DESERVES BETTER.
JUSTICE FOR JORDAN FILES.
Reporters fought their way toward him.
"Jordan! Did Night Carter manipulate you?"
"Were you seduced?"
"Did she use Dark Magian magic?"
"Do you intend to press charges?"
Jordan answered none of them.
He walked with that same infuriating elegance he carried everywhere, hands buried lazily in his pockets, his expression calm enough to border on boredom.
Even under accusation...
He looked every inch the superstar.
I almost laughed.
The same people demanding my death were begging for his freedom.
They didn't see two lovers.
They saw a victim...
...and a monster.
Percy noticed where my eyes had wandered.
"Fame," he said softly, "is a peculiar form of magic."
I swallowed.
"They've already forgiven him."
"No."
He adjusted the briefcase beneath his arm.
"They've simply decided he needs forgiving."
His gaze shifted toward the cheering crowd.
"You, on the other hand..."
He didn't finish.
He didn't have to.
The chants made his meaning painfully clear.
"Witch!"
"Go home!"
"Send her back!"
"Burn the traitor!"
My chest tightened.
Then...
Jordan looked up.
Across the chaos.
Across the reporters.
Across the banners.
His eyes found mine.
The world seemed to pause.
The chanting faded into a dull hum.
The cameras no longer mattered.
Neither did the Council Hall.
There was only the stretch of stone between us.
Only him.
Only me.
Jordan's expression never changed.
Not a smile.
Not a frown.
Just that familiar certainty that had always unnerved me.
For one impossible heartbeat, neither of us moved.
Then...
Instead of continuing toward the entrance of the Council Hall...
Jordan changed direction.
And began walking toward me.
The crowd fell silent.