The cold air in the infirmary felt heavy, each breath carrying a faint chill. My head throbbed, a constant reminder of everything that had happened over the last few hours. Dragonir lay on the bed beside me, bandaged and weak. Seeing him like this, I could barely think straight. Eleri's cruel face flashed in my mind again, her voice dripping with malice as she tortured him. I should've been faster. I should've done more.
"Dragonir, we need to talk about what happened," I said softly, breaking the silence.
He stirred, eyes half-open, the pain evident in his every movement. "I don't want to talk about her," he murmured, his voice raw. "Not right now."
My chest tightened at his words, but I couldn't let it go. "She used her Vampire abilities to break you down. I need to understand what she—"
"I said stop," he interrupted, turning his head away. "I just... I need a moment."
I wanted to push, to demand answers, but I swallowed the urge. This wasn't about me. Not right now. I stood and paced the room instead, trying to channel my frustration into something useful. The stone floor felt cold under my boots, grounding me in a way nothing else could. My thoughts kept circling back to the attack. If Eleri could do that to him, what else was she capable of? And what did it mean for me?
"Seraphina…" Dragonir's voice brought me back to the present. He looked at me then, really looked at me, and for a brief moment, I saw the boy I'd met before all of this— the power struggles, and the weight of the world fell on our shoulders. "It's not your fault."
I froze, the words striking me like a blow. How could he say that? "It is my fault. I should've stopped her. I—"
Before I could finish, a sharp knock came at the door, cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. I turned, frowning as the door creaked open. The Dean didn't come unannounced like this. But it wasn't the Dean.
It was Gwen.
Behind her, a tall woman—her mother—entered the room, her face stern, lips pressed into a thin line. I recognized her immediately: a member of the Council, someone with real power. My heart sank.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice sharp as my pulse quickened.
Gwen's eyes blazed with something I couldn't quite place. Anger? Jealousy? "I'm here for you."
"For me?" I took a step back, but my voice didn't waver. "What's going on?"
Her mother stepped forward, holding up a document I recognized all too well. My breath caught in my throat. An arrest warrant. "Seraphina, you're under arrest for the attack on Dragonir," she said coldly. "And for the use of Siren abilities in a manner that violates the kingdom's laws."
Dragonir struggled to sit up, his eyes wide. "No, wait. This is a mistake—"
But Gwen's mother ignored him. "Guards."
Two guards appeared, moving toward me with grim expressions. They grabbed my arms, their hands like iron.
"Dragonir, I didn't do this," I said, my voice breaking as they dragged me toward the door.
"I know," he said, his voice strained with pain and frustration. "I know you didn't."
But it didn't matter. The guards pulled me through the doorway, Gwen trailing behind with that same look on her face. My feet dragged against the floor as we moved down the hallway. Everything blurred around me—the cold stone, the guards, the whispers of the students who passed by. All I could hear was the pounding of my heart in my ears.
I couldn't go to jail. I wouldn't.
As they threw me into the holding cell, the heavy iron door clanged shut, sealing me in. The room was dark, damp, and suffocating. I pressed my back against the wall, trying to breathe, trying to think. My mind raced. There had to be a way out.
My abilities—Eleri used her vamp powers to torment Dragonir, and I'd seen firsthand how devastating that could be. But I wasn't like her. I wouldn't use them to hurt people. Not unless I had to.
I had to.
The cell was warded against most forms of our powers, but it wasn't perfect. I could feel the faintest hint of moisture in the air, and I knew, with enough focus, I could manipulate it. I closed my eyes, centering myself, trying to drown out the panic that clawed at my chest. Slowly, carefully, I willed the water in the air to condense, to gather in small droplets along the hinges of the door.
Moments passed—agonizing, slow moments—but finally, I heard it. The faintest creak of metal loosening. The door shifted, just slightly. That was all I needed.
With one final push of my powers, the hinges gave way, and the door swung open enough for me to slip through. My heart raced, adrenaline surging through my veins as I stepped into the hallway.
I had no plan, no idea where I was going, but I had to get out of here. I ran through the dark corridors, keeping my footsteps light, my breaths shallow. The compound was massive, and it would be easy to get lost, but I didn't care. Anywhere was better than that cell.
After what felt like hours of running, I found myself in an unfamiliar part of the compound. The hallways were narrower here, more ornate. I hadn't been here before, but something about it felt... familiar. I pushed open the nearest door, slipping inside before anyone could see me.
The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a lantern casting shadows across the walls. I froze, my eyes scanning the space. It looked like someone's bedroom—lavish, with plush pillows and ornate furniture. And then I realized whose bedroom it was.
Gwen's.
My stomach dropped. Of all the places I could've ended up, it had to be here. I turned to leave, but before I could, the door behind me swung open.
Gwen stood there, her eyes widening in shock as she saw me standing in her room.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice sharp.
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. How could I explain this? How could I tell her that I'd escaped from jail and ended up in her bedroom of all places?
She stormed toward me, her fists clenched at her sides. "You—how did you even get out? You were supposed to be locked up!"
"I didn't do it," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "You have to believe me, Gwen."
Her eyes narrowed. "Why should I? You've been nothing but trouble since you arrived. You think you can just waltz in here and take everything that's mine? Dragonir, the power, the attention?"
I took a step back, the weight of her words sinking in. "This isn't about Dragonir."
"Isn't it?" she shot back. "You think I don't see the way he looks at you? The way everyone looks at you? You're just a pawn in this game, Seraphina, and you don't even realize it."
I felt the sting of her words, but I couldn't focus on that now. "Please, Gwen. I need your help."
For a moment, she hesitated, her anger wavering. But then she shook her head. "Why should I help you?"
I took a deep breath, knowing this might be my only chance. "Because if you don't, we're both going to lose everything."