Novels by Angelika1408

The psychic shriek hit Devan like a physical blow, liquefying his equilibrium. He slammed into the floor, the shards of his own dormitory ceiling biting into his palms, but he didn't wait to register the pain.A hand, cold as arctic glass, grabbed his collar and hauled him backward just as a scythe-like limb of jagged, calcified bone whistled through the space his head had occupied a heartbeat before."Move, you moron! It tracks movement, not heat!" Shaila’s voice was a sharp, frantic whip-crack in the dust-choked air.Devan scrambled to his feet, his chest heaving. "What is that thing? It wasn't in the orientation guide!""It’s a Void-Stalker, a containment failure from the deeper archives," Shaila hissed, pushing him behind the heavy oak vanity that lay on its side. "They don't hunt students. They hunt loose mana. They hunt us.""Because of the link?" Devan asked, crouching low. The creature turned, its eyeless head clicking rhythmically as it surveyed the room. It was composed of f

The lock of the dorm door clicked, a sound that felt entirely too loud in the dead of the night. Devan pushed the heavy oak panel open, his hand hovering near his chest where the mark pulsed with a faint, warning heat. He didn't expect the room to be empty, but he didn't expect it to look like it had been hit by a localized hurricane.Bookshelves had been upended, the contents shredded. The mattress was sliced open, stuffing strewn across the dark floor like falling snow. Every drawer of the vanity was pulled out and emptied."They didn't even bother to close the drawers," Devan muttered, his voice tight. "So subtle."He stepped over a pile of ruined parchment. His eyes darted to the hidden compartment beneath the floorboard where he had stashed the data-tab he’d pinched from the lab. The floorboard was shattered, a jagged hole staring back at him like an accusation."Gone," he hissed, clenching his fists. "They got it. They already got it.""Looking for something, Fairfield?"Devan s

Devan’s fingers trembled as he pulled the thin, translucent data-tab from the console. His eyes scanned the scrolling columns of archaic script and geometric blueprints. At the bottom, under the heading Lineage Synthesis, one name stood out in bold, jagged font: Fairfield, Alaric."My great-grandfather," Devan whispered, his voice cracking. "He didn't just build the Academy. He built the cage."Shaila stood beside him, her gaze fixed on a monitor showing the structural integrity of the entire subterranean complex. She didn't look at him, her posture rigid as she processed the betrayal."Does it change anything?" she asked, her voice dangerously flat.Devan looked up at her, the blue glow of the console reflecting in his eyes, making them look like cold, fractured glass. "Does it change? Shaila, I’m not just a victim. I’m the grandson of the architect who turned children into lightbulbs.""You were seven years old when he died, Devan. You didn't know," she said, finally turning to meet

The corridor stretched into a darkness that seemed to swallow the flickering light of the wall-mounted torches. Devan kept his hand near his chest, the rhythmic pulse of the mark acting as his only compass in the stifling, subterranean air."You’re quiet, Fairfield," Shaila said, her voice cutting through the silence like a razor. She didn't turn around, her boots barely making a sound on the damp stone. "Starting to regret your curiosity?"Devan wiped sweat from his brow, his eyes darting toward the shadows. "I’m just trying to figure out why a 'prodigy' like you is running around in the basement levels like a common thief.""Do you want the truth or the polite version?" she asked, stopping abruptly before a wall that looked no different from the rest."I’ve had enough lies for one day," Devan muttered. "Give me the truth."She traced a line along the stone, and the wall groaned as it began to shift, revealing a jagged, narrow staircase leading down into the bowels of the earth. "The

The hum of the enforcer’s dampening blade was a high-pitched whine that set Devan’s teeth on edge, but he didn't blink. He couldn't. Not when his very blood felt like it was simmering with a cold, borrowed intensity."You’re playing a dangerous game, boy," the enforcer, Kresna Ashcombe, rasped. He was a man of granite features and eyes that looked like they had seen far too many executions. "That resonance you’re shielding? It’s not just illegal. It’s contagious. Do you have any idea what happens to people who harbor unauthorized, volatile ley-signatures?"Devan didn't flinch, even as the dampening blade swept through the air inches from his throat, stripping away the ambient magic of the room and leaving him feeling unnervingly naked. "I already told you. It’s mine. I don't need a booster to be stronger than a bully like Westbrook."Kresna leaned in, his face inches from Devan’s. "Westbrook is a child playing with sparks. You, on the other hand, are a wildfire. And wildfires don't ge

The air in the hallway felt thin, charged with the ozone residue of Shaila’s proximity. Devan walked with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his fingers tracing the faint, rhythmic heat pulsing against his sternum. Every step felt heavier, as if gravity had become a personal vendetta."Try not to die, Fairfield," Shaila’s voice echoed in his memory, cold and possessive.He rounded the corner toward the Great Arena, his mind reeling. He was bound to her. The realization was a jagged stone in his gut. He had come to Aethelgard to become something, not to become a tethered puppet to a prodigy who looked at him like a science experiment gone wrong.The arena doors groaned open, spilling noise into the corridor the roar of a hundred students, the crackle of localized weather spells, and the sharp scent of singed wool."Hey, look who finally decided to grace us with his presence," a voice drawled.Devan stopped. Nanda Westbrook stood at the entrance of the pits, her arms crossed. Her u