A fireball hurtles toward us, its heat singing my skin before I've fully registered the danger.
“Down!” I dive to the floor, stone scraping my palms. Chad and Brynn flatten themselves beside me as the flames roar overhead.
The cell door blasts off its hinges. Dayn steps through the wreckage, metal shards raining around him like deadly confetti. His shirt is torn open across his chest, dark hair wild around his face. His gaze burns into mine, all restraint stripped away, and for a heartbeat, I forget where we are, how to breathe.
“Thanks, for saving me,” he says in a low tone. “Now, my turn.”
Another spell launches toward us, and Dayn steps in front of me, his body shielding mine as his hand slices upward. The counter-surge that erupts from his fingertips collides with the incoming fireball. I feel the scorch of his magic against my skin, the power radiating from him in waves that almost make my knees weak.
The guards scream as Dayn's flames engulf them. Their armor liquefies, running in silver rivulets down their bodies before their flesh blackens and crumbles. In seconds, only ash remains, wisps of smoke curling upward in the sudden, heavy silence. Dayn turns back to me, chest heaving, a bead of sweat tracing the column of his throat.
“Gods above,” Brynn whispers, pushing herself up on trembling arms.
Chad adjusts his jacket, eyes fixed on Dayn, who—strangely, suddenly—stares back at him with narrowed eyes.
“I know you,” Dayn says, his voice abruptly tight with recognition.
Warning prickles across my skin. I look between them, suddenly uneasy.
“You're mistaken,” Chad replies coolly.
Brynn's brow furrows. “What are you talking about?”
Dayn's frown deepens. “Chad Valgrave. You used to slip into Rothmere's office at Heathborne. Always carrying those leatherportfolios… Neither you nor Rothmere probably ever noticed me watching. I tended to observe things from the shadows.”
“That's absurd,” Brynn scoffs, but her laugh falters when Chad's face blanches to the color of bone.
Dayn leans forward. “Half-darkblood, wasn't it? Rothmere's special infiltration project. The perfect spy to plant inside Darkbirch's inner circle.”
“What?” Brynn whispers. Her fingers, which had been hovering near Chad's arm, move away. “Chad?” Her voice hardens as she squares her shoulders.
“He's mistaken,” Chad insists, though his eyes struggle to meet hers.
“You used to be slighter when visiting Rothmere's study,” Dayn continues. “You've filled out since then. Gained muscle. So the Chancellor found you a path into Darkbirch after all. Interesting—last I heard, they were considering abandoning that particular experiment.”
“I never?—”
“Dayn,” Brynn cuts in, her voice eerily calm despite the slight tremble in her fingers. “How exactly do you know Heathborne's operations so intimately?”
The question hangs between us. I could answer, but Dayn steps forward.
Dayn's voice drops to a low rumble. “In case you haven’t heard, I was Heathborne's prisoner for decades. Their laboratory rat.” His gaze locks onto Chad. “I remember every face that passed through Rothmere's inner sanctum. Including the half-breed son of a demon father and darkblood mother—both conveniently murdered before they could interfere with his recruitment.”
The color drains from Brynn's face as recognition dawns. “Chad?”
“Let me explain—” Chad's hand reaches toward her, but I'm faster.
Shadows coalesce between my fingers, forming a blade that materializes against his throat. The edge kisses his skin, a hair's breadth from opening his carotid.
“Heathborne sent you to track Dayn,” I say, voice deadly calm. “Didn't they?”
Chad swallows, his Adam's apple brushing my blade. “Yes. I’m sorry. But?—”
Brynn lunges forward with a strangled cry, magic failing her as she swings bare fists at Chad's face. He jerks backward, narrowly avoiding the blow.
“I'm still one of you,” he pleads, palms raised. “Still darkblood?—”
“You're a traitor!” Brynn's voice cracks, tears glistening.
