Page 130 of House Ignis

Zya growled, a low, mournful sound, her shadows prickling at her paws as if she could sense the Void within him.

Asher laid Ryven down on a patch of relatively clean moss, his fingers trembling slightly as he checked the male's pulse.

"I've seen what this drug does to the desperate in the lower rings of the Shadow Kingdom," he said, his voice terrifyingly quiet, devoid of its usual cockiness.

"This is the final stage. This is what happens when the body can no longer contain the Void."

Ryven groaned, his lips cracking and bleeding as he mumbled into the air, his eyes tracking things I couldn't see. "Inside me... so hungry... it wants out..."

My chest squeezed until it hurt to breathe. "What's happening to him, Asher? Tell me!"

Asher didn't answer immediately.

He looked at the violet veins, then up at the suffocating canopy of the Forbidden Forest. In his eyes, I saw a flicker of something that chilled me to the bone.

It wasn't the fear of a soldier; it was the fear of a man watching a soul dissolve into nothingness.

"The drug has stopped being a high," he said, his voice rough as gravel. "It's becoming a gateway. The Void isn't just in his head anymore; it's rewriting his blood. We need to get him to the healers—now—before it takes him completely. Before there's nothing left of Ryven to save."

We moved as fast as we could, a desperate, silent blur through the undergrowth.

Ryven's body jerked intermittently in Asher's arms, those horrific black veins slithering up his neck like nesting vipers before fading into the pale skin, then snapping back again.

It was as if his very soul was flickering like a dying candle, caught in a tug-of-war between life and the Void.

The moment we reached the hidden tunnel entrance, Zander was waiting, a dark sentinel against the stone. He took one look at Ryven's gray face and the rhythmic pulse of the Eclipsa-veins and simply nodded to Asher.

A silent, grim understanding passed between the two men—a recognition of a shadow they had both seen before. No words were needed. He stepped aside, his violet eyes shadowed with pity, and let us vanish into the earth.

We moved with a lethal combination of stealth and speed. We bypassed the security camp on the hill without a single pebble out of place, pushing for miles until the familiar, jagged silhouette of the Academy's southern entrance loomed ahead.

Above us, Solstice was a golden streak against the moon, her sharp mind linked to Aether's.

"Solstice has spoken to Maddy," Aether's voice rumbled through the bond, heavy with the weight of the night. "She is waiting in Ryven's dorm. The bath is drawn."

My heart clenched. Gods. It had to be past midnight, the hour when the veil between worlds was thinnest.

The Academy was cloaked in a deceptive peace, its towers casting long, skeletal shadows across the courtyard.

We hugged the stone arches and melted into the corners until we reached the base of the Ventus Tower.

Its silver spires spiraled upward, aglow with a faint, mocking aetherlight, but we didn't stop to admire the elegance. Asher's grip tightened around Ryven's limp form, and we bolted up the winding stone staircase.

He didn't knock. He just kicked the door open.

Maddy was there, a small, broken figure wrapped in a blanket on the floor. "Ryv!" she screamed, the sound tearing from her throat as she scrambled to her feet.

Asher laid him gently on the bed, the mattress dipping under his terrifyingly light weight. I shut the door behind us, throwing the bolt to lock the world away.

Maddy collapsed over him, her sobs fracturing the silence of the room. "Gods," she choked, her hands hovering over his face, afraid to touch the poison. "Please—please no—Ryv, come back to me!"

He was breathing. Barely. A wet, rattling sound that made my own lungs ache.

Then, Asher froze. His eyes widened, reflecting the dim light of the room.

The veins were back.

They weren't just crawling anymore; they were thick, ropey, and obsidian, pulsing under Ryven's skin like liquid shadow. Maddy reeled back with a gasp, stumbling to the floor, her hand pressed hard over her mouth to stifle a wail.