The great hall’s doors loomed like the jaws of a predator, each slab of carved oak etched with curling serpents and blazing suns. Eli stood at the base of the marble steps, staring up at them, unable to ignore the weight of the chanting crowd pressing at his back.“Inside,” the headmaster ordered again. His voice carried no rise, no fury. It was colder than that—like frost crawling across glass.For one trembling moment Eli almost refused. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to turn, to melt back into the crowd, to let them sweep him away in their chants and their defiance. He felt Lena’s hand clutch his own, the strength in her grip belied by how pale her knuckles were. Callum hovered at his shoulder, silent as always, a shadow bound to him now more than ever.Refuse, and the Crest might erupt tonight. Accept, and he was walking straight into their cage.Lena leaned closer, her breath feathering against his ear. “Whatever you choose—make it yours.”He glanced at her, saw the stu

The silence after the twelfth toll was unbearable.Dust hung in the air, glowing faintly in the light pouring from the jagged wound in the sky. The serpent’s shadow writhed against the fractured wall, its coils withdrawing with a sound like grinding stone, its scream still echoing in Eli’s bones.The students who hadn’t fled were huddled at the edges of the hall, pale and wide-eyed. Some clutched each other, others pressed themselves flat against the pillars as if hoping to melt into the stone. Professors crouched with their sigils half-formed, their power spent or broken. The council’s robes littered the floor like discarded skins where they’d scrambled into hidden exits.Only Eli stood in the center, chest heaving, the mark on his arm blazing like a brand of fire. His throat was raw, his body shaking, but the light still burned in him, defiant, alive.Lena was at his side, her hand gripping his sleeve so tightly her knuckles were white. Callum lingered a step behind, his face carved