Ryn didn't shout.
That was what frightened Caelan most.
The boy stood at the edge of the training grounds just before dawn, shadows thin and silver with morning fog, when he felt it—that compressed pressure in the air, like magic holding its breath.
"You're going to explain," Ryn said behind him, voice calm and deadly steady, "why Ilyas is unconscious."
Caelan closed his eyes.
He turned slowly.
Ryn stood there with no weapon drawn, no spell raised. Just stillness. The kind that came from someone who had already decided what they were willing to do.
"I didn't mean to put him in a coma," Caelan said quietly. "It was an accident."
Ryn laughed once. Short. Cold. "Funny. That's what villains always say when they run out of excuses."
Caelan flinched. "I'm not—"
"Don't," Ryn cut in. "Don't lie. Not now. Not to me."
The fog around them rippled as Ryn stepped closer. His magic leaked out despite his control—dense, gravitational, bending light and shadow alike. Not dark. Not light.
Void.
Caelan's breath hitched.
"You're scared," Ryn observed. "Not of me. Of what you've already done."
Caelan swallowed. "I didn't choose this life."
Ryn stopped an arm's length away. "Neither did Ilyas."
Silence stretched—sharp and trembling.
Then Ryn moved.
Not with a spell.
With a fist.
It slammed into Caelan's jaw, sending him crashing into the stone rail. Pain exploded through his skull. Before he could recover, Ryn grabbed his collar and hauled him upright, eyes burning with fury so contained it shook the air.
"You don't get to hide behind sadness," Ryn snarled softly. "You don't get to hurt people and still pretend you're fragile."
Caelan's magic surged instinctively—but it stopped.
Pinned.
Ryn's power pressed down on it like a lid on a boiling pot.
"You work for Lucien," Ryn said. "Or you were trained by him. Either way, you're poison."
Caelan's eyes filled. "I'm trying to survive."
Ryn leaned closer, voice breaking just enough to hurt.
"And Ilyas was trying to protect someone he loved."
That landed harder than any blow.
Caelan's shoulders sagged. "If I leave, Lucien will destroy me."
Ryn released him abruptly. Caelan stumbled back, gasping.
"Then run," Ryn said. "Disappear. That's your one mercy."
He turned away, then stopped.
"But if you stay," he added without looking back, "and Aerin gets hurt because of you—"
The air darkened.
The ground cracked beneath Ryn's feet.
"I won't miss a second time."
Ryn walked away.
Caelan sank to his knees, shaking.
Because for the first time since arriving at Ravenshade, he understood something terrifying:
Lucien wasn't his greatest danger anymore.
Love was.