ShadowBound: The Need For Power

Chapter 776: I Appreciate It

After returning to his room, Liam closed the door behind him, walked straight to the bed, and dropped onto it with his legs still hanging over the side. He lay there with his eyes closed, one arm resting loosely across his stomach, and let out a slow breath.

The day had been exhausting, which was ridiculous when he thought about it. He had not trained. He had not fought seriously. The spar with Gabby barely counted, and the conversation with Thion, while unpleasant, had not been physically demanding.

"I should have just trained," he muttered.

The moment he said it, he knew it was not true.

Compared to what he would have put his body through if he had gone down to the underground hall again, this day had been nothing. The tiredness he felt was not from exertion. It was from people. Dylan’s endless talking, Charlotte’s teasing, Ariana’s concern, Sheila’s presence, Asher’s silence, students staring at him, Sasha’s shamelessness, Gabby’s intensity, Lucia’s summons, Thion’s office, all of it had piled together until it became its own strange kind of exhaustion.

’Social exhaustion,’ he thought with faint irritation.

But even that realization did not remain the center of his thoughts for long.

One thing overshadowed everything else.

The Headmaster.

Thion.

Liam opened his eyes, then slowly sat upright at the edge of the bed. The room was dimmer now, the last traces of evening light fading beyond the windows as the academy began settling into night. He rested his forearms on his thighs and replayed the conversation from the beginning, not the official part about the Berserker, but what came after.

Thion’s tone. His words. The way his composure had briefly cracked when he spoke about dark magic as something alive. His claim that his grandfather had been a dark mage. His hunger to see living dark magic breathe.

’How much of that was true?’ Liam wondered.

The suspicion came easily.

Thion had sounded honest, perhaps too honest in certain places, but honesty in tone did not guarantee truth in content. A skilled liar could use partial truth to make the rest more convincing. And the idea that Thion was descended from a dark mage bothered Liam for one specific reason.

He had not smelled darkness on him.

Nothing.

Not the faintest trace.

Liam trusted his senses more than most people’s words. If Thion carried even a small remnant of dark Myst in his body, Liam believed he should have noticed something. A trace, a thread, a faint residue beneath the lightning. Instead, Thion’s Myst had carried the sharp, bright quality of lightning without even a whisper of darkness.

The Headmaster had claimed that his grandfather’s blood carried weakly through his mother while he inherited lightning through his father, but even then, Liam found it difficult to accept that there would be no trace at all.

Unless dark affinity did not leave bloodline residue unless inherited, he thought. Or unless he is lying. Or unless something is hiding it.

His gaze lowered slightly.

The third possibility was the most annoying.

Before he could continue the thought, a familiar voice sounded from inside the room.

"You look quite serious."

Liam’s eyes lifted.

Mabel stood near the side of the room, her Royal Corps attire neat as always, her half-mask in place, and her posture calm enough that it seemed as if she had been part of the room from the beginning.

Liam stared at her for a moment, then asked, "How long have you been there?"

"I just appeared," Mabel said. "You did not notice because you were thinking about something rather deeply."

Liam said nothing.

Mabel studied him. "For some reason, I am certain you were thinking about Headmaster Thion."

Her words told him enough.

She had been watching.

At the very least, she had seen him being summoned by Lucia and had followed the line of events from there. Liam did not feel much irritation at that. If anything, after the conversation they had shared the previous night, her presence felt less like intrusion and more like an expected shadow in the room.

"You’re right," Liam said.

Mabel’s eyes shifted slightly behind the mask.

’That was fast,’ she thought.

It was not often Liam admitted something so directly, especially when he could have deflected with silence or a vague answer. The fact that he did not made her more attentive.

"Did Thion prove to be a problem?" she asked. "Did he try to make use of the fact that you showed more than you intended during Nalim?"

"That is one way to put it."

Mabel’s brows moved faintly beneath the mask. "One way?"

Liam did not wait for her to ask further. Without prompting and without being pressured, he told her what had happened in the Headmaster’s office. He explained the official questioning about the eastern forest and the Berserker book, then the shift in Thion’s tone once the report was set aside.

He told her about Thion’s claim that his grandfather had been a dark mage, about his inherited lightning, about the decades of studying flawed records, and about his personal request to witness Liam’s dark magic directly. He did not dramatize any part of it. He relayed the conversation plainly, including the condition he had given about leadership responsibility and Thion’s agreement to place Sheila as the preferred representative of their year.

By the time he finished, Mabel was almost speechless.

For a few seconds, she only stood there, her eyes fixed on him as she processed the full weight of what he had said. Thion’s interest being academic was one thing. His interest being personal, inherited, and obsessive was something else entirely.

"Do you believe him?" she asked at last. "About being descended from a dark mage?"

"No."

The answer came immediately.

Mabel was not surprised by the certainty, but she still asked, "Why?"

"I did not sense any trace of dark Myst from him," Liam said. "Not even a faint one. His Myst feels like lightning. Cleanly. If his claim was true, I should have noticed something at the very least."

Mabel considered that carefully.

She believed him.

Liam’s senses, especially when it came to dark Myst, were not something she dismissed. If he said he felt nothing, then that absence mattered. It did not fully prove Thion was lying, but it made the claim far less simple than the Headmaster had presented it.

"I do not trust him," Liam added.

Mabel’s gaze returned to him.

"I saw enough of his obsession," Liam said, his tone even. "He is not afraid of dark magic. That does not make him safer. He wants to understand it, and I have no interest in becoming the thing he uses to satisfy that."

Mabel felt a quiet sense of relief.

She had expected Liam to reach that conclusion, of course. It would have worried her far more if he had seemed tempted by Thion’s offer because of knowledge or curiosity. Still, hearing him say it directly steadied something in her. Liam had spent enough of his life being studied, feared, used, or positioned by people with their own agendas. Thion’s fascination might not be hateful, but that did not make it harmless.

Then Liam spoke again.

"He did agree to keep me out of formal leadership roles. Sheila will be treated as the preferred leader of the second years, regardless of my rank."

Mabel’s relief faltered slightly.

She stared at him.

Liam noticed.

There were many things Mabel understood about him. She knew he disliked attention. She knew he had no desire to be the symbol others kept trying to turn him into. She knew he disliked unnecessary responsibility over people who did not trust him.

But hearing that he had used a possible negotiation with the Headmaster to avoid student leadership made her wonder, not for the first time, how deeply his hatred of that role actually went. It was almost absurd. Many students would have asked for access, protection, private training, influence, or knowledge. Liam had asked for responsibility to be handed to someone else.

He was that determined to avoid leading his peers.

Liam saw the expression in her eyes despite the mask.

A faint sound left him.

Almost a chuckle.

It was subtle, but Mabel caught it immediately.

"You do not need to look at me like that," Liam said. "Even if the deal favors me, I do not plan to do anything for Thion."

Mabel blinked.

For a brief moment, she was genuinely caught off guard. Shock, surprise, and embarrassment moved through her all at once, most of it hidden behind the mask, though not well enough to escape Liam’s notice. She had not expected him to read her that easily, and she certainly had not expected him to answer the concern before she voiced it.

"I was not looking at you in any particular way," she said.

Liam said nothing.

He simply rose from the bed and began walking toward the bathroom, letting the silence answer for him.

Mabel watched him go, faintly annoyed at how easily he had caught her and more annoyed that he had been right.

Liam reached the bathroom door, then stopped with one hand near it. For a moment, he remained facing forward. Then he looked back over his shoulder slightly.

His expression was still calm, but something in his voice shifted.

Not dramatically.

Not enough for anyone else to call it emotional.

But Mabel heard the difference.

"Thank you," Liam said. "For what you said last night. I really appreciate it."

The words were short.

Simple.

Very Liam.

But they carried a rare sincerity that made the room feel quieter for a moment. He had been sincere before in certain ways, but this was different. There was no strategy in it, no deflection, no attempt to reduce the weight of the moment with indifference. He said it because he meant it, and because, for once, he chose to let her know.

Then he entered the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

Mabel remained where she was for a few seconds.

Still.

Silent.

Then, behind her mask, a small smile formed.

"He is more cute when he is sincere with his words," she murmured.

The words left her mouth before she fully thought about them.

A few seconds later, her eyes widened slightly.

"Oh stars."