Page 14 of The Fractured Veil

"Thanks for the fucking help,partner," I spat, venom lacing every syllable. My shoulder connected with Nox in a satisfying thud, a petty act that definitely hurt me more than him.

He barely shifted, a testament to his strength and unwavering composure. But beneath that stoic mask, I noticed a flicker of enjoyment, a hint of surprise that I dared to challenge him, even in such a childish manner. His head tilted slightly, those emerald eyes following my retreat.

"Told you to stay close," he observed, his voice a low rumble that resonated through the clearing. The words were simple, a mere statement of fact, yet they carried an undercurrent of something more. Was it a reprimand? A warning?

I didn't bother to reply, my anger and frustration propelling me forward. The clearing blurred around me, the cheers and jeers of the other students fading into a distant hum as I focused on putting as much distance between myself and Nox as possible. But even as I walked away, I could feel his gaze burning into my back.

I bypassed the training grounds and headed straight for the sanctuary of my room, ignoring any lingering obligations to Professor Lorian. He could get his explanations from Nox. I was done. The adrenaline that had fueled me earlier had long since evaporated, leaving behind a residue of exhaustion and simmering rage.

The sight that greeted me in the bathroom mirror was a jarring reflection of my inner turmoil. All I could see in the mirror was the wreckage—a reflection of failure staring back at me with hollow, stormy eyes. Dirt and dried blood clung to my skin and clothes. My once high ponytail had surrendered to the chaos, strands of hair escaping their confines, interwoven with twigs and leaves, a testament to my wild flight through the forest. My stomach churned at the reflection, a reminder of my physical and emotional exhaustion.

Anger flared—hot and consuming, tightening my chest and blurring my vision. It surged like wildfire, licking at the edges of my composure, threatening to reduce what little strength I had left to ash. This wasn’t just a defeat—it was a public dismantling of every defense I had, leaving me bare, exposed, and vulnerable.

My hands gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles white, the cool porcelain biting into my skin. My reflection glared back at me, stormy and defiant, but beneath it, I saw the cracks forming. My jaw clenched so tightly it ached, teeth grinding as if sheer force alone could hold me together.

But it wasn’t enough.

The tide of frustration roared in my ears, drowning out reason. Every step today had been a stumble. Every challenge, a sharp reminder of how far I still had to go—of how out of place I truly was here. The weight of it crushed me, threatening to collapse my chest and squeeze the air from my lungs.

A sharp, ragged breath escaped my lips. "Pathetic," I spat at my reflection, the word cutting through the thick silence like a blade.

Hot tears filled the corners of my eyes, a final insult to my resolve. But I refused to let them fall. They wouldn’t win. Not the tears. Not the doubt. Not the crushing voice inside me screaming that I would never be enough.

Chapter6

Zarek’s POV

It had been days since I last saw her, and the deprivation was starting to get to me—a persistent itch beneath my skin that no amount of distraction could soothe. She had an unsettling effect on me, a perplexing dissonance I couldn't quite reconcile with my usual experiences. From the moment our eyes met across the crowded cafeteria, I was captivated—not just by her undeniable beauty, but by a depth, a fire that burned beneath the surface, hinting at a spirit as untamed as the wild forests of my homeland.

I had pursued her, naturally, with the effortless charm inherent to my fae nature, expecting the same effortless conquest I was accustomed to. But Thalia, unlike the countless others who threw themselves to my allure, resisted. And her resistance sparked a flame within me that I hadn't felt. Why? Women were drawn to me, enchanted by the power I exuded, the world I could offer. They never sought to delve deeper, content with the surface illusion—the seductive glamour that veiled my true nature.

But my Firefly... She was different. She saw through the glamour, resisted my magic with a strength of will that both intrigued and frustrated me. It was a game, a dance of wills, and I found myself inexplicably drawn to her—captivated by her refusal to conform. It was a novelty, yes—but more than that, it was a refreshing change from the predictable submission of others.

And beneath the frustration, a deeper emotion stirred within me—a grudging admiration. A burgeoning respect for the woman. She was a wildflower amidst a garden of cultivated roses, her untamed spirit a light in a world of darkness. I found myself craving her presence, wanting to understand the depths of her, to unravel the secrets hidden behind her guarded gaze.

The days without her stretched into an eternity, each breath a reminder of her absence. I found myself seeking her out in crowds, my senses hyper-alert. The scent of her—a unique blend of calming lavender and earthy sage—lingered in my memory. Even the faintest whisper of that intoxicating aroma, carried on the breeze or clinging to a stray lock of hair, was enough to send a jolt of electricity through my veins.

The echo of her laughter, a melody that haunted my thoughts. And the flash of her fiery hair, a vibrant flame amidst a sea of mundane hues, was like a beacon—drawing my gaze, igniting a spark of longing within me.

When I saw Mira casting against Thalia, something inside me snapped. My blood turned to fire, and a rage, a darkness I had long kept dormant, clawed at the surface, threatening to consume me. The intensity of the emotion was staggering, an unfamiliar fury that shook me to my core.Why?The question echoed through my mind, a desperate plea for understanding in the face of this overwhelming surge of protectiveness. Why did her pain resonate so deeply within me? Why did I feel such a profound need to protect this fragile human?

But even as the need to protect her overwhelmed me, a darker thought crept in. Why is she evenhere? The academy isn’t for ordinary mortals—it's a haven for beings of immense power, a crucible where the supernatural hone their abilities. How didshereceive an invitation if she’s just a human?

Nexara Academy doesn't make mistakes; its wards, its very foundations, are designed to repel those who don't belong. And yet, her presence felt like a glaring anomaly, a disruptive crack in the constructed order of things. It was as if someone had placed a flickering candle into a hall of mirrors—captivating, but undeniably vulnerable. There had to be a reason, a hidden purpose behind her arrival. I just couldn't fathom what it could be. Whether it was the academy’s oversight or something far more deliberate, her being here made her vulnerable.

The last time our paths crossed—after that humiliating defeat in the clearing—I had glimpsed a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes, a depth of pain that hinted at a breaking point. An unfamiliar urge to soothe those wounds, to lift the weight she carried, took root within me. And now, she had vanished, retreating behind the fortress of her own making, leaving me to grapple with this unfamiliar turmoil.

My fists clenched involuntarily, the familiar surge of power rippling through my veins, the darkness within me straining against its bonds. I fixed my gaze on the floor, the cool stone a stark contrast to the fire raging inside. I fought to keep my mind from drifting back to Thalia, but it was a losing battle. No matter how hard I tried to focus, her image kept intruding, her storm-grey eyes and that maddening strength of hers pulling at my thoughts like a siren's song.

Tension filled the air as Nox returned, his presence a noticeable weight that pressed down on the room. His usual calmness was laced with an underlying restlessness, a barely contained energy that spoke volumes. His shifts had become increasingly erratic, his control wavering that bordered on dangerous. We were forced to skirt the edges of the academy's wards, isolating ourselves from the other students to prevent any...incidents. He remained tight-lipped about the cause, the trigger for his beast—but a suspicion festered within me, a truth I was reluctant to confront.

It was the same woman who haunted my every waking thought. She was the reason for Nox's internal chaos, just as she was for mine.

The memory of Combat Training surfaced, a puzzle piece clicking into place. Nox, typically aloof and indifferent, had been swift to claim Thalia as his partner, intercepting that preening peacock, James, before he could open his mouth. It was an act so out of character that it sent a jolt of surprise through both Damon and me. And then there was the look on his face when he saw James attempting to flirt with her—a fleeting shadow that crossed his features, a flash of something dark and possessive.

A heavy silence had fallen between us brothers, an unspoken acknowledgment of the rabid emotions swirling beneath the surface. We haven't spoken a word about it, each of us grappling with this unfamiliar territory in our own way.

Damon on the other hand, retreated into a facade of indifference, acting as though Thalia were a phantom, a figment of our imaginations. He seemed to believe that if he ignored her, the unsettling pull we had to her would simply dissipate like morning mist. But his carefully constructed indifference was a brittle mask, cracking under the strain of his suppressed emotions. I saw the way his shadows—those living extensions of his own being. They reacted to her presence—reaching for her in an almost desperate way, as if drawn in by an irresistible force. He always reigned them back in, of course, his expression carefully blank. But the effort it took to maintain that facade was evident in the subtle clench of his jaw, the flicker of frustration in his usually placid eyes.

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