Kage’s POV

  The moment Zara bolted from the lecture hall, I followed, instincts kicking in like a second nature. Something was wrong—terribly wrong. I had seen her composed, guarded, and sharp-witted. This was different. This was raw panic.

  By the time we reached the emergency room, the smell of antiseptic filled the air, thick and suffocating. Zara shoved past a nurse, ignoring the startled protests as she skidded to a stop beside a motionless body on the stretcher.

  I knew nothing about the woman lying there, but I knew what she meant to Zara. It was in the way she trembled, her breath ragged and uneven. The way her hands hovered over the woman’s body, unsure whether to reach out or recoil. The world around us faded to white noise, drowned by Zara’s ragged whisper.

  “Naja… no, please, no.”

  Her knees buckled, and I stepped forward instinctively, steadying her before she collapsed. Her fingers curled into my coat, gripping as if letting go would shatter her completely. I had seen people grieve before—families at crime scenes, the hollow stares of those left behind. But this was different. This wasn’t just grief. This was devastation.

  I stayed silent, letting her lean into me, offering the only comfort I could. Words felt meaningless in the face of such raw anguish.

  Then, something shifted.

  Zara turned abruptly to the doctors. “Heal her! Do whatever you have to, just fix her wounds!” she begged, her voice cracking under the weight of desperation. “She can’t stay like this! She can’t—”

  One of the doctors, clearly hesitant, exchanged a glance with his colleagues. “We’ll do our best, but… her injuries are severe.”

  That was when I noticed the wounds—deep gashes, as if something sharp had sliced through her torso. Blood still seeped sluggishly from the wounds, despite Naja’s natural healing ability. Someone had attacked her with precision, ensuring maximum damage. The sight made my jaw tighten.

  Zara clutched Naja’s limp hand, her own shaking violently. “She’s strong,” she whispered. “She’ll make it.”

  A green glow pulsed around her, growing brighter with each desperate breath. Magic crackled in the air, thick and heavy with the weight of something unnatural. The hairs on my arms stood on end as I watched Zara reach beyond the veil of death itself.

  This wasn’t just mourning—this was defiance.

  I had never seen necromancy up close, but I knew its power. I knew it wasn’t something to be taken lightly. But Zara wasn’t hesitating. She was willing to tear through death itself for this woman.

  A strangled gasp filled the air.

  The woman—Naja—breathed. Her silver glowing hands flickered weakly, her body caught in the liminal space between life and death. Relief flooded Zara’s face for only a moment before her expression crumpled again.

  “She’s alive,” she whispered, but her voice was hollow. “But she’s not awake.”

  I exhaled slowly, the tension in my shoulders refusing to ease. I had seen miracles before, but this felt different. This felt… desperate.

  As Zara clutched Naja’s hand, her body trembling from exhaustion, I took a step back, scanning the room. Whoever had done this was still out there. I didn’t know who Naja was, but I knew what mattered—someone had tried to take her away from Zara.

  And I was going to find out who.

  I crouched beside Zara, keeping my voice steady, controlled. “Tell me everything you know.”

  She didn’t respond at first. Her grip on Naja’s hand tightened, her glowing green eyes rimmed with unshed tears. When she finally spoke, her voice was brittle, barely holding together.

  “I saw him,” she whispered. “The eyes… the bright blue eyes.”

  My breath hitched slightly. “You saw her attacker?”

  Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

  Zara’s gaze remained fixed on Naja, her expression unreadable. “Just his eyes,” she murmured. “I saw them before. When I raised the magical who was killed yesterday… I saw the same eyes.”

  A slow chill crept down my spine. This wasn’t just an isolated attack. This was part of something bigger.

  I frowned, my mind already piecing together fragments of logic, looking for patterns. “Did she have any enemies? Anyone who might want to hurt her?”

  “No,” Zara snapped, then paused, composing herself. “She… she healed people. She didn’t have enemies.”

  That didn’t mean much. Some people didn’t need a reason to kill.

  “Anything unusual lately? Was she worried about something?”

  Zara swallowed hard, her gaze distant. “She never told me if she was.”

  I glanced at the still form on the stretcher, my mind running through every possibility. A healer. No obvious reason to be targeted. But this attack had been deliberate.

  Zara’s fingers twitched against Naja’s as if afraid to let go. I couldn’t fix this for her, but I could do what I did best—find the truth.

  I met her gaze, steady and firm. “I’ll help you find who did this.”

  She blinked at me, as if seeing me for the first time. Then, slowly, she nodded.

  Because whoever had hurt Naja had made a mistake.

  And I was going to make sure they paid for it.

  Zara’s POV

  The adrenaline that had carried me through the hospital now began to wane, leaving behind a hollow ache. Naja was alive, but just barely. Her attacker was still out there, and I couldn’t rest until we found him.

  Kage pulled out his communicator and quickly dialed a number. “This is Officer Kage. We need a team at the hospital, code 67. Notify Detective Hall that it’s a magical-related incident.”

  I watched as Kage spoke urgently into the communicator, his demeanor professional and focused. When he hung up, he turned to me, his expression softening.

  “I am going to head to Naja’s apartment,” Kage said gently. “The police will meet me there, and we might find some clues about what happened.”

  “I’m coming too,” I said firmly.

  Kage frowned. “Zara—”

  “No. I need to be there.” My voice cracked slightly, but I steadied myself. “I know Naja, I know her habits. I’ll notice if something’s off.”

  Kage studied me for a long moment before exhaling. “Fine. But you stay by my side.”

  As we walked through the dimly lit city, Kage kept close, his presence protective. Every so often, his gaze flicked around us, scanning for threats. His body moved like a shadow, ready to step in if needed.

  When we reached Naja’s apartment, Kage pushed me behind him before easing the door open. The air was heavy, the room eerily still.

  “Stay close,” Kage murmured.

  I did. And as we stepped inside, dread curled in my stomach. Something was very, very wrong.

  The apartment was a snapshot of Naja’s life—cozy and welcoming, with pictures of friends and family on the walls and plants thriving in every corner. But the warm, inviting atmosphere was shattered by the signs of struggle. The furniture was overturned, and there were dark stains on the carpet.

  I felt a lump rise in my throat as I surveyed the scene. “This is where it happened,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

  Kage nodded, his expression grim. “Stay close to me. The police will be here soon.”

  We carefully moved through the apartment, looking for anything that might provide a clue. My glowing green eyes scanned the room, searching for any hint of the attacker. I felt the familiar tug of spirits, but none strong enough to communicate.

  In Naja’s bedroom, I found her journal lying open on the bed. I picked it up, my hands shaking. Naja often wrote about her thoughts and experiences—maybe there was something here that could help us.

  As I flipped through the pages, a passage caught my eye. Naja had written about a patient she was worried about, someone who had been acting strangely. The description was vague, but it was a start.

  “Look at this,” I said, showing the journal to Kage.

  He read the passage, his brow furrowing. “It’s not much, but it’s something. We’ll need to investigate this patient.”

  At that moment, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway. The police had arrived. Detective Hall, a seasoned officer with a reputation for solving magical-related crimes, entered the apartment. His sharp eyes took in the scene, and he approached us with a nod.

  “Officer Kage, Zara,” he greeted us, his gaze landing on me with concern. “You shouldn’t be here. This is a crime scene. Let my team handle it.”

  I stiffened, gripping Naja’s journal tighter. “I’ve helped solve magical murders before, Detective. And this is Naja. I need to be here. I need to help.”

  Hall sighed, rubbing his temple. “I understand that she was your friend, but this is official police business. We can’t compromise the investigation.”

  Before I could argue further, Kage stepped in, his voice firm. “She stays.”

  Hall raised a brow. “Kage—”

  “She’s already seen the crime scene,” Kage continued. “She knows Naja better than anyone, and her necromancy might give us insight we wouldn’t otherwise get.”

  Hall studied me for a long moment before sighing in reluctant acceptance. “Fine. But you follow my lead, Zara.”

  I handed him Naja’s journal. “She wrote about a patient she was concerned about. It’s not much, but it’s a lead.”

  Detective Hall scanned the page, then looked up at me. “We’ll follow up on this. In the meantime, I’ll have my team sweep the apartment for any forensic evidence. We’ll find who did this, Zara.”

  I nodded, feeling a surge of determination. “Thank you, Detective.”

  As the police began their work, Kage stayed by my side, a steady presence in the chaos. We had a lead, and now it was up to us to find the person who had hurt Naja. I wouldn’t rest until I brought them to justice.