Chapter 42: _ Found You, Tobin!

The red-haired stalker stood right in front of me.

I didn’t need a glowing sign above his head to know he was the bastard from the Sunken Arch. The memories of that night were still foggy, but my dreams had made one thing crystal clear: Tobin was shifting between this form and a Sylven form.

Right now, he was glaring at me like I’d killed his pet and set his house on fire.

The guts he had to ask who permitted me to let other men touch me as though I belonged to him made me shiver.

And why in the seven hells was he so furious about it? The anger radiating off him was enough to make my pulse do a frantic tap-dance against my ribs.

I was terrified and I had no intention of becoming another victim of whatever sick game was being played at this Academy. So I did the only logical thing a reasonable, terrified woman in my position could do.

I opened my big mouth.

"Stop right there, you degenerate rascal! Don’t you dare come any closer! I don’t know what kind of sick, bottom-feeding, soul-stealing nonsense you’re running, but if you take one more step, I will personally guarantee you regret breathing!" I barked, taking a step back and holding up my hands like a terrible street fighter.

Tobin froze mid-stride.

"You think you can just creep around in the dark, skulking behind pillars like a discarded piece of trash?" I pressed on, channeling every ounce of sharp-tongued venom I possessed to hide the fact that my knees were shaking. "Stay back! I’m warning you! Get away from me, you utter disgrace of a sentient being!"

I expected him to lunge at me. I expected him to sneer, summon his veins, or use some lightning to strike me down.

Instead, Tobin looked like I’d just slapped him across the face with a frosty fish.

The fury in his eyes was blinked away by a flash of... hurt? It made no sense. Why would a creepy stalker look heartbroken because a girl he was hunting called him a rascal?

He opened his mouth, closed it, and stared at me like I was that one thing he just couldn’t wrap his head around.

The silence stretched between us. Then, without a single word, he whirled on his heel and headed straight toward the grand doors leading back into the Gala.

I stood frozen in the hallway, staring at his retreating back.

What just happened? Did my insults actually defeat a threat?

Then the horrifying realization hit me. He wasn’t retreating out of shame. He was going inside.

Into a crowded ballroom filled with naive initiates. Into a room packed with people whose powers were practically primed for the taking!

If he was a core-stealer, he didn’t need to waste time with me who had no beast when he had a buffet sitting in the main hall.

Clement did after all, mention that these types of predators don’t leave the victims who got away alone.

The girls.

Yes!

He was going after Miriel and Bren because they actually had elemental powers worth stealing, while I was basically a walking battery for bad luck.

"Oh, absolutely not," I muttered, adrenaline surging through my veins.

I didn’t hesitate. I blurted out the exact trigger words Commander Clement had drummed into our heads during our brief, infuriating debriefing.

"Cinder Fall!" wheezed into the night air, feeling like a complete idiot.

Shadowy forms materialised out of the architectural nooks. Five heavily armed, stern-faced men dressed in non-descript undercover attire stepped forward, their hands resting on hidden hilts.

"Is there a problem, initiate?" the lead warden asked.

"Yes! Huge problem!" I gasped, pointing wildly toward the ballroom doors. "I just saw the Sylven—the core-stealer! He’s disguised as a red-haired wolf noble, and he just went straight into the Gala!"

The lead warden’s eyes darkened instantly. "Show us."

"Follow me!"

We sprinted back toward the high doors. But just as we neared the entrance, the doors swung open, and Miriel nearly ran straight into me.

"Elira!" Miriel gasped, grabbing my shoulders. "Where on earth have you been? Everyone is still whispering about the Heartstone exploding, and..."

She stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes darting past my shoulder to the five terrifying, heavily armed men hovering directly behind me. She blinked. "Elira... who are these men?"

"Undercover security," I said breathlessly. "I spotted the threat."

Miriel let out a massive sigh of relief, clutching her chest. "Thank God. I thought you were being arrested for breaking the Heartstone and yes, Bren and I have seen him too. Bren told me to come alert you."

We head inside, earning glances from every direction. Whispers spread through the glittering crowd the second we crossed the threshold. I was already the resident pariah after the Heartstone incident, but parading into a high-society Gala flanked by five broad-shouldered undercover wardens made me look like a mob boss with a penchant for formal wear.

Initiates parted before us like I had the plague, their eyes darting nervously between my furious face and the menacing shadows tracking my every move.

"Is that the girl who shattered the testing stone?"

"Who are those men behind her?"

"Is she being taken because of what she did?"

"Did she just bring armed mercenaries to a royal ball?"

"Where is he?" I demanded, scanning the room hysterically.

Before Miriel could answer, Bren came sprinting through the crowd.

"Elira! Miriel!" she gasped, skidding to a halt in front of us. "Follow me, quick—I saw where he went! I lost him near the high balcony, but if we move now–"

"I don’t need to move anywhere," I cut her off, my eyes fixed on the center of the room. "I found him."

Sitting nonchalantly on the elevated dais, occupying the vacant throne reserved strictly for the Wolf Prince, was the red-haired stalker.

He was slouched back against the cushions, resting his chin on a gloved fist, staring directly down at me through the sea of swirling aristocrats and floating glass chandeliers. He was glaring at me with an intensity that could have bored a hole through solid iron, looking like a ruthless monarch waiting for my execution.

The audacity of this man made my blood boil. He had lured me and my friends into a trap, attempted to assault me, knocked my friends unconscious, tried to steal our powers, and he just cornered me in the dark, growled out possessive, lunatic demands about who was allowed to touch me, and now he was goofing off on royal property like he owned the entire realm?

Not tonight. Not on my watch.

"Hey!" I bellowed, stepping forward and pointing a finger straight at the dais. "Right there! Wardens, that’s the outlaw! Move!"