Chapter 40: The Covens of Midnight
Deep within the folds of the void—present in all places yet rooted in none—stands The Midnight Court, an ancient academy hidden from mortal sight.
Its towers rise in sharp silhouettes beneath a permanent moon, and ivy clings to its stone like living shadows. The air there is always cold, always still, as though time itself hesitates to move.
The school was said to be carved from the midnight hour, giving it its strange, dreamlike atmosphere. Within its halls, magic feels heavier, older, and far less forgiving.
The Midnight Court was created as a refuge for those gifted—or cursed—by arcane blood. Witches, vampires, werewolves, fae, and other beings have walked these halls for generations, each seeking control over what they are.
But power always draws its own kind of trouble.
The academy has a long history of brilliance and ruin—political games, forbidden romances, secret alliances, rivalries that turned deadly, and discoveries that were buried for good reason.
It’s a place where ambition thrives, where mistakes linger like ghosts, and where the line between student and threat is often thin.
However, this year feels different.
A Moon Walker had come, and the silent clock of fate shifted from its centuries of sleep.
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{IRIS}
Though half a month still remained before the opening of classes at the Coven of Midnight, I found myself already within its ancient walls, arranging the few belongings I possessed in my shared dormitory room.
The girl’s wing was vast, built of dark stone veined with silver, its windows draped with velvet curtains that whispered when the wind passed by.
I had been told I would have one roommate, but she had yet to arrive.
I was early—painfully early.
Lord Val had insisted I grow familiar with the grounds before the others came. But something in his voice, in the tightness beneath his calm, told me that was not the only reason he sent me ahead of schedule.
My phone vibrated—the same device he had given me to contact him in secrecy, should I ever need him.
Only three words appeared.
"I’m outside."
It was enough.
I bolted.
I stormed out of the dormitory, breath catching in my throat as I ran through the moonlit courtyard, past lanterns glowing with blue fire, until I spotted him standing in a secluded alcove of the garden.
Lord Val—impossibly composed as always—watched me approach, a hint of amusement glittering at the corner of his silver eyes.
"Did you run here?" he asked, his voice low, velvet-soft.
I nodded, then immediately realized how disheveled I looked. My hair was a wild mess, plastered against my face. I hurried to fix it, cheeks burning. "Forgive me, my Lord... I simply did not wish for you to wait."
A quiet chuckle escaped him. "Do not fret over it."
He extended a small black card toward me. "Take this. I will send your monthly allowance through it. Purchase whatever you require. Though the Covens of Midnight is a school, there are establishments nearby—and a path to the human town, should you ever need it. The staff can guide you."
"I... thank you," I whispered, accepting the card with trembling hands. He also pressed several bills into my palm—enough to last me months.
"You have given me so much already," I murmured. "I can only hope to repay you someday."
"I will expect that, then," he answered lightly.
Silence settled between us—strange, heavy, filled with something I could not name.
"Remain within school grounds for now," he said at last. "It is safer here."
"Yes, Lord Val."
"Well then—"
He turned to leave, and panic stabbed through me. Before I could think, I reached out and caught the edge of his sleeve.
He froze.
Slowly, he looked back at me. "Is there something else?"
Mortification surged. My fingers withdrew as though burned. "I—I’m sorry. I just... it may be some time before I see you again, and I... I thought—"
Why?
Why did I sound like this?
Like a child clinging to the last scrap of comfort she had ever known.
Like someone terrified of being left behind.
The memory of what Lorcan did—severing our bonds, casting me as rogue—flashed through my mind with vicious clarity. My stomach twisted.
"I must seem terribly clingy," I whispered.
Before I could retreat further into shame, Lord Val’s hand moved—closing around my wrist and pulling me straight into the shadows with him.
A gasp tore from me.
Suddenly, I was pressed against the cold stone wall, and he stood before me—close enough that his breath ghosted across my cheek, close enough that I could feel the power thrumming beneath his skin.
His hands were planted on either side of me, caging me in.
But his eyes were not on me.
They were watching the group of girls walking past just inches away.
Yet they did not see us.
They passed by without a pause, without even a flicker of awareness—as if we were nothing but shadows.
Nightborne magic.
A concealment spell so seamless, so absolute, that even creatures of the night would miss us entirely.
What’s going on? I thought that Nightborne magic was controlling blood? Did Lord Val have another Legacy?
Only when their footsteps faded into silence did he speak again.
"They are gone," he murmured, and my heart clenched at how close his voice was—how warm, how dangerously intimate.
Only then did Lord Val turn his gaze to mine.
My face ignited.
I tore my eyes away, breath unsteady. But he did not move. He remained exactly where he stood, his presence overwhelming, his body a wall of moonlit darkness before me.
"L–Lord Val...?" My voice was thin.
"What is it?" he asked, almost lazily.
"This position..."
"I thought," he drawled, "you wanted me close."
My head snapped toward him so fast it almost hurt. He was smirking—subtle, teasing, devastating.
"The reason you didn’t want me to leave," he added softly. "You still wished to be with me, did you not?"
Blood surged to my face so violently I nearly felt faint. "T-that’s—!"
A nosebleed would have surely killed me on the spot.
He chuckled—a low, dark sound—and finally stepped back.
"Do not trouble yourself." His expression gentled, but only slightly. "I understand. You have wounds from your pack. From your mate abandoning you."
His voice lowered. "If you wish to cling to me, then cling. I will allow it."
For a heartbeat, warmth bloomed inside me.
But it died instantly with his next words.
"Just do not fall for me."
A gust of wind swept through the courtyard.
By the time I blinked, he was gone.
The shadows he left behind curled like smoke as I stood there, frozen—his words echoing in my skull.
Do not fall for me.
As if that were even possible.
As if I could ever love someone else besides my mate.
I might be drawn to Lord Val, but we both know the truth—I cling to him only because he is the one thing I have, the only being left in my world.
My heart twisted painfully. The mate bond—even if broken, even if abandoned—was a chain forged of blood and moonlight.
And chains do not break simply because one wishes them gone.
Even if I wanted to love another—even if I wanted to forget Lorcan—I could not.
This bond...
This curse...
It would never release me.
My heart ached as I stared at the empty space where Lord Valtheris had stood only moments ago.
The echo of his footsteps still lingered in the air, as if refusing to let me forget him.
He was right.
I should not fall for him.
I should not feel anything beyond gratitude. That was all I was allowed—gratitude for his mercy, his protection, his guidance.
He had said it himself: he needed me for something.
He was helping me because of purpose, not affection.
And yet... the loneliness crept in anyway.
I sighed softly and returned to my dormitory, each step feeling heavier than the last.
Homesickness curled inside my chest—not for the place I had spent my entire life in, not for the pack that cast me aside... but for the cold, shadowed halls of Nightborne Mansion.
It was strange.
I had lived years with the pack... yet I did not miss them.
But I missed Lorcan, it was only natural because he was my mate. Ex-mate.
I missed the Nightborne mansion—the carved stone, the dim corridors, the quiet comfort, the sense of belonging I’d never truly felt anywhere else.
I began unpacking my belongings, folding clothes into the wardrobe, arranging my toiletries, setting my boots beside the door. The mundane motions steadied my breath.
Then my gaze fell upon the thick tome resting on my bed.
The Student Manual.
Bound in dark leather, heavy as sin, its gold-lettered title gleamed like an accusation.
The staff had warned us: "Read it immediately. Memorize the rules. Failure to do so may lead to severe consequences."
Just looking at it drained the will from my bones.
"I... I will read it later," I whispered, nudging it halfheartedly farther up the bed.
But as the night stretched on—quiet, moonlit, and heavy—I did not open it.
Not even once.
Instead, I found myself lying back on the pillow, Lord Val’s last words echoing in my mind, and a dull ache blooming in my chest.
Sleep took me, though my heart remained restless—anxious and unsure of how I would survive this place on my own.
