When Shadows Break, Truths Emerge
Lucian's POV:
The corridor stretched out before us, the air thick with unease. Gale's warning about Aria lingered in my thoughts, refusing to let go. Despite everything I thought I knew about her, the seed of doubt had been planted, and it was growing fast. Something about Aria didn't quite add up, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was on the verge of discovering something big.
As we walked, Zane finally broke the silence, his voice low. "You think Gale's right about Aria?"
I hesitated, my gaze fixed on the endless hallway stretching before me. The thoughts churned in my mind, but voicing them felt like stepping into territory I wasn’t ready to confront. Still, I couldn’t ignore the unease building within me. "Maybe," I murmured under my breath.
Ryker stiffened at my side, his sharp eyes narrowing. "We’ll figure it out," he said firmly, a determined edge in his voice.
That determination echoed my own doubts. Was Aria hiding something from all of us? From me? Everything seemed to be pointing in one direction, and that direction was a mystery I hadn't yet solved. What could she be keeping from us? And why?
Lost in thought, I almost didn't hear Ryker speak again. "We should head back to the dorms. Lila will be waiting for me."
Zane nodded in agreement, glancing at me. "Yeah, Sofia too."
I couldn't argue. They had just found their mates, and it wouldn't be fair to drag them into my spiraling thoughts. They deserved to enjoy this new chapter in their lives without my suspicions looming over them. "Go ahead," I said, my voice calmer than I felt. "We'll figure the rest out later."
As we turned toward the dorms, I caught sight of Aria in the distance. She emerged from a side hallway, her friends walking ahead as if guiding her. But Aria lingered behind, her steps hesitant, her gaze distant, as though she was lost in her thoughts.
And then she stopped.
The air seemed to shift around her as she froze mid-step. My breath hitched. Had she realized I was behind her? I glanced at Zane and Ryker, their puzzled expressions matching my own.
Sofia and Lila, as Ryker's and Zane's mates, should have been the first to sense something unusual. Their bond heightened their awareness, making it almost impossible for them to miss even the slightest disturbance. But why had Aria stopped first?
And how?
How did she always seem to know when I was around? It wasn't the first time I'd noticed it, and the question gnawed at me. What was it about Aria?
I couldn't shake the feeling that I was standing on the edge of something massive, something I wasn't ready to face. But one way or another, the truth was coming. And Aria, whether she wanted to or not, was at the center of it all.
Moments later, Sofia and Lila stopped too, their bond finally kicking in as they sensed their mates. They turned, their faces lighting up with smiles as they walked toward us. My focus, however, remained fixed on Aria.
Sofia hugged Zane, and Lila threw her arms around Ryker, their joy evident in their carefree laughter. But Aria—she remained rooted in place, not moving an inch toward us. Her friends had turned to follow Sofia and Lila’s lead, approaching us in cheerful unison, but Aria stood apart, her feet planted as if she were held back by something invisible.
She was staring at Sofia and Lila, her expression off, as though something was weighing on her. Was she upset? Had something happened in the time we’d been apart?
Then her gaze shifted, and her eyes met mine.
For the first time, I saw something in her eyes I hadn’t before—a flicker of pain, of something deeply buried that had surfaced just enough for me to catch it. She looked as if she was caught in her thoughts, as if something was eating away at her from the inside.
What was it?
I couldn’t look away. Whatever was going on with Aria, it was clear that this moment, this feeling, was more than coincidence. And for the first time, I felt like I was closer to uncovering the truth.
But Sofia called out to her, “Aria!” Her voice was light, yet concerned, cutting through the tense silence.
Aria blinked and looked at Sofia, then at everyone else, as though snapping out of a trance. Her expression shifted, as if she were grounding herself after being lost in her thoughts. But when her gaze returned to mine, I felt the weight of something deeper—a sorrow I couldn’t place. My chest tightened. What was she hiding? Why did she look so hurt?
Nico, ever the playful one, broke the tension. “Where were you lost, Aria?” he teased, his grin attempting to lighten the mood.
Aria’s lips parted slightly, her voice soft as she responded, “Nowhere. Just… nothing.” She forced a faint smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes, and it certainly didn’t fool me.
As she finally began to walk toward us, she suddenly froze mid-step. Her head turned slightly, and she looked over her shoulder, scanning the area behind her as though looking for someone. Her movements were slow, deliberate, as if she was drawn to whatever—or whoever—she thought might be there.
Kai’s voice broke the growing tension. “Aria, what’s wrong?” His concern was evident, but she didn’t reply.
Lila stepped forward, worry etched across her face. “Aria, say something! Are you okay?”
Still, no answer. Aria’s gaze flitted around as if she couldn’t hear them, her eyes darting to every corner, searching for something—or someone—once again.
Sofia took a step closer, her voice soft yet urgent. “Aria, please. What’s going on? Talk to us!”
One by one, everyone’s attention zeroed in on her. The silence that followed was stifling, each second stretching unbearably long.
Then she looked back at her friends, her gaze flickering from one to the other, as though trying to process their presence. Her brows furrowed slightly, and she blinked, as if struggling to make sense of what she was seeing. It was like she was trying to focus, to see us clearly, but something was preventing her from doing so.
Then it happened. She stumbled, her footing unsteady, and I felt my instincts kick in. My body moved on its own, but before I could reach her, Dante’s voice rang out sharply, “Aria!”
Her legs buckled beneath her, and I surged forward. My heart raced as I called her name, louder this time, “Aria!”
But just as I reached her, she collapsed. I caught her in my arms, my heart pounding as I lowered her gently to the ground. My breath hitched, panic clawing at my chest as her body went limp in my hold. Her friends crowded around us, their voices a blur of panic and confusion, each one trying to make sense of what had just happened.
“Aria, what’s going on? Are you okay?” Sofia’s voice broke through first, high-pitched and filled with worry.
“Why isn’t she responding?” Lila’s tone was sharper, trembling with fear.
“Aria, wake up!” Nico demanded, his voice cracking as he crouched beside me.
“Is she breathing? Check her pulse!” Calen urged, his voice tight with fear.
I checked her pulse—it was slow but steady, though it did little to ease the fear gnawing at me.
“Aria! Are you hearing me?” I called out, my voice desperate. But she didn’t respond, her eyes remaining closed.
Esme’s voice rose suddenly, slicing through the chaos. “Did she have a concussion because of that injury when the chandelier hit her head?”
Her words hit me like a blow, the memory of that incident flashing through my mind. Could it really be that? My heart raced faster, fear surging in waves.
But as I held her, my gaze drifted to her face, to the faint trace of anguish still etched there. Why did she look like she was searching for something?
The thought struck me harder than Esme’s words. Could it really be related to the injury, or was it something else? Something bigger, something none of us could see?
Zane’s voice was firm, though it carried the weight of worry. “Take her to the infirmary, now!”
I didn’t need to be told twice. Scooping her up gently, I stood, her fragile form cradled securely in my arms. She felt so light, too light, and the fear in my chest tightened its grip. Without a word, I started toward the infirmary, her friends trailing closely behind.
As we made our way through the hallways, whispers followed us like shadows. Students stopped in their tracks, their gazes glued to the sight of me carrying Aria.
“Is that Lucian? Holding someone?”
“No way... He’s never touched anyone before.”
“He looks... worried. Like actually worried.”
The murmurs grew louder, their astonishment palpable. I ignored them all, my focus locked on the unconscious girl in my arms.
Sofia kept pace with me, her face pale. “She was fine just a while ago. What happened so suddenly?”
I clenched my jaw, my steps quickening. “I don’t know,” I admitted quietly, my voice taut with frustration. “But I’m going to find out.”
By the time we reached the infirmary, the entire corridor had gone eerily silent, every eye on us. I pushed through the doors, the sound of them swinging open startling Dr. Kaelis inside.
Dr. Kaelis, known for her brilliance and sharp instincts, immediately turned to us, her expression shifting to one of concern. “Lay her down here,” she instructed, motioning to a nearby bed.
I placed Aria down gently, brushing a strand of hair from her face as I straightened. Her friends gathered around her, their concern etched across their faces, but I stood back, my fists clenched at my sides.
Dr. Kaelis examined her with practiced efficiency, her eyes narrowing as she checked Aria’s vitals. “What happened?” she asked briskly, not looking up.
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“She just…collapsed,” I said, my voice strained. “One minute she was fine, and the next—”
Dr. Kaelis glanced at me briefly, her expression unreadable. “I’ll do everything I can. Give me space to work.”
Her confidence was reassuring, but as I stepped back, watching Aria’s pale, motionless form, one thought consumed me: What was happening to her, and why did it feel like this was just the beginning?
Dr. Kaelis moved with calm precision, her every motion radiating a sense of control that momentarily eased the chaos in my mind.
She leaned over Aria now, her gloved hands moving deftly as she began her examination. “Her pulse is weak but steady,” Dr. Kaelis announced, her voice measured but laced with concern. “Her breathing is shallow. This isn’t just a fainting spell. Tell me, did anything unusual happen before this?”
“She looked distracted,” Sofia said, her voice trembling. “Like she was looking for something—or someone.”
Dr. Kaelis didn’t respond immediately. Her focus was on Aria as she checked for other signs, her movements meticulous. After a moment, I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Dr. Kaelis,” I asked, my voice low but tense, “could this be related to the injury she got during the chandelier incident? Her head was hurt then, and I—” My words faltered as guilt clawed at me.
Dr. Kaelis straightened slightly, her gaze meeting mine. “That’s possible. Head injuries can have delayed or lingering effects, even when recovery seems complete.” Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “But this doesn’t look like a typical case. Did you notice anything unusual about her since that incident?”
I froze, the weight of her question hitting me. I hadn’t been around enough to know. I hadn’t checked on her properly after she woke up from that injury.
Before I could say anything, Esme, Aria’s roommate, stepped forward. “I haven’t noticed anything, really,” she said, her voice uncertain. “Sometimes, she gets lost in thought, like she’s deep in her own world. But nothing more than that. She hasn’t said anything to me about feeling unwell.”
Dr. Kaelis’s brow furrowed as she listened. She turned back to Aria, her gloved hands adjusting Aria’s position gently. “Her pulse and temperature are irregular,” she murmured. “Her skin is unusually cold. Whatever this is, it’s not purely physical. I’ll need more time to determine what’s happening here.”
The tension in the room thickened, pressing down on me like a heavy weight. My fists clenched at my sides as I stared at Aria’s pale, still face.
Why didn’t I go to see her after the chandelier incident? Why had I stayed away, convincing myself she was fine? Maybe if I’d been there, I would’ve noticed the signs—or stopped whatever this was before it spiraled out of control.
“Is she going to be okay?” Lila asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Dr. Kaelis looked up, her expression unreadable. “I’ll do everything I can.”
Lila’s shoulders tensed visibly, and Ryker, standing behind her, placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. “She’s strong, Lila,” he said softly, his voice carrying quiet conviction. “She’ll pull through this. She has to.”
But I stood rigid, every muscle in my body coiled with unease. Aria lay there, so still, so vulnerable. It wasn’t just fear gripping me—it was something far deeper, something I couldn’t put into words.
It felt like her pain was a physical weight in my chest, pressing down on me, making it hard to breathe. My heart raced as I replayed the moment she collapsed, over and over, each time feeling the same gut-wrenching helplessness.
Why did it feel like this? Why did her suffering feel like my own?
Dr. Kaelis' sharp gaze scanning Aria’s face. “We need to monitor her closely. This doesn’t seem to be just a physical issue—there’s something deeper at play here. I’ll need time to figure it out.”
As the doctor continued her work, I stepped back, my fists clenched tightly at my sides. The emotions surging through me were foreign and overwhelming, like a storm I couldn’t control.
I thought back to the chandelier incident—how I’d brushed it off as an unfortunate accident. But this...this wasn’t the same. The look on Aria’s face before she collapsed, the fleeting anguish etched in her expression, hinted at something far more complex, something beyond my understanding.
My chest ached with a strange, unfamiliar longing. I didn’t know why, but the thought of her being in pain, of her slipping further away, was unbearable.
This wasn’t just concern. It was something primal, something raw. And it scared me. As I watched Doctor work, one thought consumed me: I can’t lose her. I won’t.
Suddenly, Aria’s lips began to move, faint sounds escaping her mouth. At first, it was incomprehensible, soft murmurs that barely reached our ears. Then her voice grew louder, strained, as if she were trying to speak to someone far away.
“Mom... Dad... no... please...” Aria’s voice cracked, and her face twisted with an expression of pain.
Everyone froze, staring at her in shock.
“What’s wrong with her?” Sofia’s voice trembled, her hands clutching the edge of the bed. Zane also stood beside her, his usual calm demeanor replaced by a deep furrow in his brow.
“She’s talking,” Lila whispered, her eyes wide. “But...she’s unconscious. How is that possible?”
Dr. Kaelis leaned closer, her brows furrowed deeply. “She’s in some kind of heightened state—perhaps a dream or a memory. But this isn’t normal unconscious behavior.”
Aria’s blabbering grew more erratic, her head shifting slightly from side to side. “L-lies... not my... f-family... no, no... they—wouldn’t... never... never say... this...”
“She sounds like she’s in distress,” Nico said, his voice low and tense. “Like she’s caught in some kind of internal battle.”
I couldn’t stand it anymore. Ignoring the way my chest tightened with fear, I moved to sit beside her, my hand gently brushing against hers. “Aria,” I called softly, leaning closer. “It’s me. Can you hear me?”
There was no response. She didn’t even flinch. It was as if she couldn’t hear me, no matter how much I willed her to.
“Lucian, what’s happening to her?” Calen asked, his voice cracking.
“I don’t know,” I admitted, my throat tightening. “But she looks like she’s in some kind of... pain. Like she’s fighting something.”
Kai stepped forward, his face grim. “Do you think this is connected to her powers? Maybe she’s experiencing something we can’t see.”
Dr. Kaelis shook her head, her voice steady but concerned. “It’s too soon to tell. But whatever this is, it’s not just physical. Something is happening inside her mind.”
Aria’s voice broke through again, more desperate this time. “No... don’t... I can’t... It’s not my fault...” Her words were fragmented, but the raw anguish in her tone made my stomach twist.
“What is she talking about?” Sofia whispered, tears welling in her eyes.
“She’s... scared,” I murmured, my voice barely audible.
I leaned closer, my hand tightening around hers. “Aria,” I said again, louder this time, my voice filled with urgency. “It’s me. Lucian. Come back to us.”
But she didn’t respond. Her face remained pale, her body tense as her words continued to tumble out, disjointed and broken.
“She can’t hear you,” Esme said softly, her expression troubled. “It’s like she’s somewhere else... trapped.”
The word trapped sent a chill down my spine, echoing in my mind, fueling a fear I didn’t fully understand. It felt as though someone was trying to take her away from me, and I was powerless to stop it.
I stood abruptly, spinning sharply to face Dr. Kaelis. My voice was sharp with frustration, cutting through the tense air. “How could you not know what’s happening? You’re one of the best doctors in the Kaeloria Kingdom! If you don’t know, who will?”
Dr. Kaelis held her ground, her steady demeanor cracking just enough to reveal unease. “Lucian, I understand your frustration, but this... this is unlike anything I’ve ever encountered. If she were simply in a nightmare or a similar state, hearing your voice should have pulled her out of it. But it’s as though she can’t hear us at all. I’ve never seen anything like this before.”
Before I could respond, Aria’s voice pierced the silence, raw and broken.
“Lucian, no... you don’t mean that...” Her words were fragmented, barely coherent, each one laced with tortured anguish. “Why are you doing this to me? Why are you showing me this?”
She called my name again, her voice trembling and desperate.
“Lucian! Lucian!”
The sound of her cries sent a pang of panic straight through me, gripping my chest with icy fingers. I didn’t understand what was happening—why she was calling for me like that, why her voice felt like it was reaching for me from some unreachable place.
Dr. Kaelis placed a steadying hand on my shoulder, her voice measured but tinged with concern. “Lucian, we’ll figure this out. Whatever is happening to her, she’s fighting it. But right now, she needs time, and she needs our support.”
Her words hit me like a blow. Time. The very concept was unbearable. Each second felt like it was stealing her further away from me. The thought of losing her—of standing here doing nothing while she suffered—was suffocating.
“No,” I said, my voice trembling with a mix of desperation and resolve. I shook my head fiercely. “I can’t just stand here and watch her suffer. I won’t let this happen. I have to do something. I can’t let her go through this alone.”
Seeing her in such pain, with tears flowing down her cheeks, was more than I could bear. Every cry, every tortured word from her lips was like a blade to my chest. I couldn’t stand seeing her like this anymore. My heart ached, desperate to do anything to help her.
Without thinking, I moved, sitting on the edge of her bed where she lay. I reached for her, gently grabbing her hands, my focus entirely on her now. My friends stood quietly around the room, watching, probably wondering if I could somehow pull her out of this nightmare. I had to do something.
I leaned in close, my voice steady but filled with the urgency I felt in my chest. “Aria, listen to me. You have to wake up. I’m here, Aria!”
For a moment, there was nothing. Her breathing was erratic, her body tense. And then, suddenly, her eyes snapped open. She jolted upright, gasping for breath, as if waking from a terrifying dream.
“Lucian!” she shouted, her voice trembling, her eyes wide with fear.
My hands immediately went to her shoulders, gripping her gently but firmly. “Aria!” I said, trying to calm her, to ground her in the reality of the moment.
But she still wasn’t listening. Her body was shaking, her breath coming in rapid gasps, and she kept calling my name, like something she had seen had terrified her to the core. I couldn’t understand what she was going through, but I had to get through to her.
“Aria, focus on me,” I said softly, my voice filled with as much calm as I could muster.
But she didn’t respond. She continued calling my name, the terror in her voice sending a shiver through me.
"Lucian!" she cried again, her voice frantic.
The fear that gripped her heart was clear, but I needed her to listen. This wasn’t like any of our usual moments. I couldn’t let her slip away into whatever she was seeing in her mind.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my own racing heart. This time, I spoke with more authority, more command in my voice.
“Aria!” I said firmly, my grip tightening slightly as I looked into her wide, terrified eyes.
This time, something in her shifted. She froze for a moment, her body stiffening, and then, slowly, her focus began to clear.
She looked at me, her eyes filled with confusion and fear, but she was finally seeing me, hearing me.
"Lucian?" she whispered, her voice a mixture of relief and lingering terror.
"I'm here," I said softly, my voice low and steady as I tried to ground her. My thumb brushed over the back of her hand, hoping the small gesture would calm her storm. Her breathing was uneven, and every inch of her was tense, as though she were fighting something I couldn’t see.
Her gaze flicked around the room, landing on her friends. Tears welled in her eyes, and when they spilled over, it felt like they carved deep into me. The sight of her pain was unbearable, each tear twisting something inside me.
“Why are you calling my name?” I asked, my voice gentle but laced with urgency.
She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, her tear-filled eyes lingered on her friends, who stood by silently—Kai, Sofia, Lila, Dante, Nico, Esme, Calen, Zane, and Ryker. They were all there, their faces filled with concern, but it wasn’t enough to reach her.
A single tear slid down her cheek, and without thinking, I cupped her face, brushing it away with my thumb. I wanted to take away whatever haunted her. But then she pulled back, breaking the fragile connection, and the ache of that small rejection hit me harder than I expected.
“Nothing,” she whispered finally, her voice weak and broken. “It was just a nightmare...”
I didn’t believe her for a second. The trembling in her voice, the fear in her eyes—it wasn’t just a nightmare. But I held back. This wasn’t the time to press her.
Nico, however, didn’t share my restraint. “You’re lying,” he said suddenly, his voice sharp and accusing. “This wasn’t just a nightmare. What are you hiding from us?”
I shot him a warning look, irritation bubbling under my skin. He didn’t know when to keep quiet. His words hit like a hammer, and I knew they would shatter the fragile calm in the room.
Aria’s head snapped up, her expression shifting into something I hadn’t seen before—an eruption of anger, frustration, betrayal and something deeper, darker.
“Why can’t you all just stop?” she burst out, her voice filled with venom. “Why do you think you have a right to know everything? Why can’t you just leave me the hell alone?”
Her words hung in the air, heavy and sharp, cutting through the room like a blade.
“You all think you’re helping, don’t you? But you’re not! You’re suffocating me!” Her voice cracked, raw emotion spilling out. “I don’t need your pity or your questions. I don’t need any of you!”
The shock was palpable. Her words hit harder than anything I’d expected. Each one felt like a slap, leaving us all stunned.
“Why can’t you just mind your own damn business? Stop interfering in my life!” she shouted, her voice trembling with rage.
And then, without warning, she stood abruptly, her movements sharp and purposeful. Her sudden shift left us frozen in place.
“I don’t want to talk to any of you right now,” she spat, her tone icy and final. “Just stay out of my life.”
With that, she stormed out of the infirmary, the door slamming shut behind her, leaving an oppressive silence in her wake.
For a moment, none of us moved. The room felt heavier, weighed down by her outburst and the shock of her words.
It was Sofia who broke the silence, her voice quiet and full of disbelief. “She’s never behaved like that... not ever. Something is going on with her.”
I stayed silent, the echoes of her words swirling in my mind. Whatever she had seen while unconscious, I had a sinking feeling it had changed something in her. It was more than just fear.
A nagging thought settled in my chest, heavy and unsettling. Whatever Aria had faced, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it might create a crack between her and me—one that might be impossible to mend.