The academy bells tolled in the distance, their sound echoing through the high stone arches, but Elena barely heard them. Her mind was tangled, knotted with thoughts she couldn't shake. Damian's sudden return into her life had unsettled her more than she cared to admit. His words haunted her, lingering long after he had disappeared into the shadows.
"You're just surviving under his chains."
She told herself it was a lie. Adrian wasn't chains—he was safety, comfort, a shield against the world that constantly threatened to devour her. And yet, the more she replayed Damian's voice in her head, the more the word "chains" began to bite at her, burrowing deep beneath her skin.
Adrian noticed her distraction. Of course he did. Nothing ever slipped past him.
"Elena." His voice broke into her thoughts like a blade, low and steady. They sat together at the long breakfast table, surrounded by the murmur of other students. His hand slid over hers, warm yet commanding. "You're drifting again. What are you thinking about?"
Her breath caught. She forced a smile that felt too heavy on her lips. "I'm fine. Just… training has been exhausting lately. I didn't sleep well."
Adrian's eyes lingered on her face, as though he could peel away every layer of her lie. His gaze was intense, suffocating in its precision, and for a long moment she was sure he would demand the truth. Instead, his expression softened, though his smile was edged with something sharp.
"You don't need to carry any burdens," he said, voice gentle yet heavy with weight. "That's why you have me. I'll protect you. Always."
His words should have comforted her, but instead, they pressed on her chest like a lock clicking into place. Safety, yes—but also confinement.
By the time evening fell, her thoughts had only grown heavier. She retreated to the library, hoping the silence of old books would soothe her mind, but when she stepped into the corridor, a slip of parchment brushed against her hand. She froze. No one stood nearby. Yet the parchment was warm, as though written only moments before.
Her pulse quickened as she unfolded it.
Meet me at the old fountain. Midnight.
Her first instinct was to tear it to pieces, to pretend she had never seen it. She knew exactly who had sent it. But her hands trembled too much, her chest too restless. Every part of her screamed that it was dangerous, reckless, unforgivable. And still… something deep inside refused to let her ignore it.
By the time midnight came, Elena was already slipping from her dormitory. She wrapped her cloak tightly around her shoulders, heart racing with each step she took across the deserted courtyard. The academy grounds, usually so lively, felt like a different world under the pale silver light of the moon.
The old fountain stood silent at the far edge of the garden, its stone cracked and dry, a relic forgotten by time. And there he was. Damian leaned against its rim, his presence commanding even in stillness. He looked different in the moonlight—his aura darker, sharper, almost dangerous, yet undeniably magnetic.
"You came," he said, his lips curving into a faint smile.
Elena's throat tightened. She crossed her arms, as though the gesture could shield her. "I shouldn't be here."
"And yet you are." His voice was soft, coaxing, laced with something that pulled at her. He took a slow step toward her, his eyes burning crimson in the shadows. "Tell me, Elena… do you feel alive with him, or just safe?"
Her breath hitched. The question sliced through her, raw and merciless. She wanted to shout that she felt alive with Adrian, that she needed no one else. But the words refused to form.
"I—"
Damian's hand brushed against hers, light as a whisper, yet it sent sparks up her arm. She should have pulled away. She didn't.
"You deserve more than a velvet cage," he murmured. "You deserve fire. Freedom. To laugh without fear. Don't you miss who you were before he claimed you?"
Her heart stuttered. For one dangerous moment, she allowed herself to imagine it—running into the wild with Damian, away from Adrian's suffocating protection. A version of her that wasn't caged, that wasn't constantly under watch.
But the fantasy shattered.
"Elena."
The single word froze her blood. The air grew heavy, icy, suffocating. Slowly, she turned, and there he was—Adrian, standing at the edge of the fountain, shadows swirling around him like a storm. His eyes glowed, burning with fury and betrayal.
The ground itself seemed to tremble beneath the weight of his aura.
Damian didn't flinch. He smirked, as though this was exactly what he had wanted. "See? He'll never let you breathe."
Elena's heart pounded so loudly she thought it might burst. Two shadows loomed over her—one a devil's son who offered safety laced with chains, the other a fallen light who promised freedom that felt like fire.
And caught between them, she realized with horror that no matter which hand she chose, she might already be lost.