CHAPTER 92: THE RUN! 4

The moment Rin’s body hit the ground, a heavy silence smothered the crowd like a thick fog. His breaths were faint, barely noticeable, his small frame motionless except for the slight rise and fall of his chest. The silver collar around his neck glinted cruelly against his pale skin, catching the dim light of the setting sun. He was already unconscious, his face peaceful yet hauntingly still, as if the fight had drained every ounce of life from him.

The enforcer with a strict face carved from stone, gave a curt nod. "Finally! Take him away," he barked, his voice cutting through the quiet like a blade.

Two men, burly and clad in dark uniforms, stepped forward without hesitation. They bent down, grabbing Rin’s limp arms with rough hands, dragging him across the dirt like a sack of grain. His bare feet scraped against the uneven ground, leaving faint red streaks where sharp stones bit into his skin. The crowd watched, frozen, their eyes wide with a mix of fear and fascination. No one dared to speak. No one dared to move. They just stood there, staring, including a man cloaked in shadow near the edge of the gathering. His face was hidden, but his posture was stiff, deliberate. The fake Lucien.

And then, a sharp sound pierced the air... boots striking stone, rapid and unrelenting. The crowd parted instinctively as someone pushed through, panting heavily, his breath ragged from sprinting across the sprawling academy grounds.

Lucien.

He shoved aside a pair of gossiping students, their whispers about the "omega who refused to submit" dying on their lips as he glared at them. His sharp grey eyes swept the scene, taking in every detail—the stunned faces, the enforcers, the streaks of blood in the dirt. His chest tightened, a cold dread coiling in his gut, when his gaze landed on a crumpled figure in a white robe, lying motionless on the ground.

Ezra.

"Why is the priest dead?" Lucien mumbled under his breath, his voice barely audible, laced with disbelief. As if the universe itself had heard him, a wild, almost hysterical voice rang out from the crowd.

"Lucien Vortellion killed the priest!" someone shouted.

Another voice chimed in, gleeful and cruel. "I knew he’d turn out as merciless as his father. As expected of the Vortellions!"

"Oh, Lucien is so strong!" a third voice added, tinged with awe.

Lucien froze, his mind reeling. What kind of stupid rumour is this? He shook his head, forcing the nonsense out of his thoughts. He didn’t have time for this. He needed to find Rin. His eyes darted around the courtyard, searching for that familiar mop of white hair, that slight frame he’d sworn to protect. But the space was emptying out, the crowd dispersing like smoke in the wind. All that remained were those faint red streaks in the dirt—Rin’s blood.

His heart stuttered, forgetting how to beat for a moment. The pieces clicked together in his mind, each one a stab to his chest. Rin had been caught. Dragged away by the enforcers. And Ezra... Ezra had died trying to protect him. Lucien stood there, rooted to the spot, piecing it together in mere seconds, yet it felt like an eternity.

"No..." The word slipped past his lips, soft and broken, before he could stop it. His hands trembled at his sides, his fingers curling into fists. But his eyes—burning, bloodshot, wild—were already moving, scanning the courtyard for any sign, any clue.

And then he saw him.

A cloaked figure stood just beyond Ezra’s lifeless body, his shoulders stiff, his head bowed as if trying to melt into the shadows. But Lucien knew. Even through the haze of rage and grief, he knew.

"...Julian," he called, his voice low but sharp, cutting through the murmurs of the retreating crowd.

The cloaked figure flinched, a subtle twitch of his shoulders. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted his head. The hood slipped back just enough to reveal a smile—thin, sharp, and mocking, like a blade glinting in the dark.

"Hello, brother," Julian said, his voice smooth and taunting, each word slicing deeper than any knife.

Lucien’s blood boiled. Julian chuckled softly, turning as if to slip away into the crowd, but Lucien’s body moved before his mind could catch up. He surged forward, his hand lashing out to seize the back of Julian’s cloak with a vice-like grip.

"Don’t you dare walk away from me!" Lucien roared, his voice raw with fury.

With a violent yank, he slammed Julian against the nearest stone wall. The impact echoed with a bone-rattling crack. Julian’s hood fell completely, revealing dark hair matted with sweat and those sharp grey Vortellion eyes—eyes so like Lucien’s, yet colder, emptier. The crowd gasped, stepping back, but Lucien didn’t care. His world had narrowed to the man in front of him.

"You..." Lucien’s voice trembled, low and dangerous, barely containing the storm raging inside him. "How are you here? How did you even get back into the academy?"

Julian’s lips curled into a wider grin, unfazed by the rage pinning him to the wall. "Why don’t you take a guess, brother?" he said, his tone light, almost playful.

Lucien’s eyes narrowed, his mind racing. "Hold on... Don’t tell me you pretended to be me? Did you report Rin? Are you the reason for all this mess?"

Julian’s grin stretched wider, his eyes glinting with malicious delight. "Bingo. You’re as smart as I remembered. As expected of the new heir."

Lucien’s grip on Julian’s cloak tightened, his fist shooting to his brother’s throat, pressing until Julian’s breath hitched. "You fucking bastard," Lucien spat, his voice cracking like a whip. "How? How did you find out Rin was an omega?"

Julian’s smile didn’t waver, even as his face reddened and his lips began to tinge blue. His silence was deliberate, a taunt in itself. He wouldn’t say a word—not because he couldn’t, but because he chose not to. Lucien’s mind flashed to Dorian, his closest ally, the only one who knew about Rin’s identity.

’Was he involved? Had he betrayed Rin, too?’

But Julian’s silence protected Dorian, and that only further fueled Lucien’s rage.

"Answer me..." His voice came first as a whisper.