ShadowBound: The Need For Power

Isolde looked away first, turning her gaze toward the dark academy grounds beyond the glass.

"Percy," she said softly, almost to herself. "Everyone always makes their way back to Percy eventually."

Liam said nothing.

Her mouth curved faintly, but it was not a smile. "Fine. You want to know why? I am testing her."

"Testing?"

"Yes."

"That is your reason?"

"One of them."

Liam stared at her.

Isolde folded her arms loosely, her back straightening as the last of the harmless warmth left her posture. She still looked elegant, still composed, but the fragility from earlier was gone.

"Sheila Granger has potential. I will not deny that. She is intelligent, powerful, patient, and far more suited to people than her brother ever was. But potential is not leadership. Potential is a pretty little promise people place on someone before they have actually proven anything."

"She has proven enough."

"To you?" Isolde asked.

Liam’s eyes narrowed.

"To Percy?" she continued. "To the students who want a kind princess to gather around because she feels safer than a prince with edges? To those who see her bloodline, her rank, her affinities, and the people standing near her, then decide that means she is ready?" Her voice remained controlled, but the resentment beneath it finally sharpened through. "Trust is being handed to her. Legitimacy is being handed to her. Future leadership is being shaped around her as if the academy, the second-years, and even people like you have already decided she belongs there."

Liam watched her carefully.

Isolde’s gaze returned to him. "I clawed my way to the top. I earned every inch of influence I have here. I was not carried by a royal name. I was not softened by people protecting the path around me. I had to learn how to stand, how to read people, how to lead those who did not want to follow, how to become necessary without anyone handing me the privilege of being trusted." Her mouth tightened. "And even then, I never received the kind of acknowledgment Sheila seems to receive simply because Percy Granger and Liam Hunter believe she might become something."

There it was.

Not jealousy alone. Not hatred. Resentment mixed with judgment, dressed as a test and sharpened by old wounds.

"Percy respected you?" Liam asked.

Isolde’s eyes flickered.

"That bothered you," he said.

Her voice went colder. "Do not pretend you understand that."

"I do not need to."

"You know nothing about what it is like to stand beside someone like him and still be looked through."

"Probably not."

That answer seemed to irritate her more than if he had argued.

Isolde looked away again, jaw tight for only a second before she forced it loose. "Percy did not trust easily. He did not praise easily. He barely acknowledged people unless they were useful or unavoidable. Yet he looked at Sheila as if she could inherit something from him even when he doubted her. He looked at you with respect after knowing you for far less time than he knew me. And now Sheila is walking into the next structure with everyone preparing to support her."

"So you chose Chris."

"I chose pressure," Isolde corrected. "Chris is proud, insecure, influential, and easy to aim. He thinks he is reclaiming his place. He thinks I am helping him restore the proper order. In truth, he is a weight placed against Sheila’s leadership. If she cannot handle him, then she is not ready. If divided loyalty breaks her, she is not ready. If sabotage from someone as obvious as Chris can fracture her command, then she has no business leading a hundred second-years into Eldervale."

Liam’s irritation rose so quickly that it almost became visible.

All of this.

The conversation with Sheila. Pressuring Edith. Pressuring Lucian. Deploying Nyxie, Raven, and Smoke. Tracking Chris. Watching Isolde. Crossing cold academy grounds repeatedly. Spending time thinking about student loyalty when he would rather train, study, or do almost anything else.

All of it because Isolde Thorne had unresolved issues and decided to turn leadership into a personal trial.

He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them.

"What a miscarriage of common sense," he muttered.

Isolde blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

Her expression sharpened. "You think this is stupid."

"I think you are making something simple more irritating than it needs to be because Percy did not pat your head enough."

The cold in Isolde’s eyes became immediate.

Liam did not stop. "Chris is not some harmless tool. He is a prince with influence, pride, and enough stupidity to mistake manipulation for opportunity. If this goes wrong, it affects more than Sheila’s confidence."

"I know that."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Then you are more annoying than stupid."

Isolde’s lips pressed together.

For several seconds, Liam wanted to end the matter cleanly. Not by exposing her publicly. That was still impractical. But by forcing her to stop, by threatening enough consequences to make the risk outweigh whatever satisfaction she gained from testing Sheila. It would be simple. Direct. Efficient.

Then his own thoughts slowed.

Because beneath all the irritating personal motive, Isolde’s point was not entirely useless.

That made it worse.

Sheila had been given a smoother path.

Partly because Liam had made it that way.

He had pushed her toward leadership because he did not want the role himself. He had encouraged her to stand in front of the second-years because people would align around her more naturally than him. He had suggested Edith as vice. He had spoken to Edith himself to make that transition easier. He had gone to Lucian to identify Chris’s movement. He had been preparing to remove the problem before it truly reached Sheila.

That was useful for him.

It was not necessarily useful for Sheila.

If Sheila led only because Liam quietly removed every obstacle before she faced it, then Eldervale would expose the weakness eventually. A fourteen-day assessment would not allow perfectly cleared paths. Divided loyalty, sabotage, uncertainty, conflicting objectives, exhaustion, fear, and pride would all surface once the second-years were trapped in a realm together. Sheila would need to handle pressure without Liam solving every unseen problem in advance.

She needed resistance.

She needed to learn how to keep command when not everyone wanted her to have it.

She needed to face the fracture before Eldervale made it sharper.

Liam hated that Isolde had stumbled into something practically valuable through such an irritating motive.

He stared at her for a long moment.

Isolde watched him, expecting another threat, another insult, perhaps the moment when he finally decided to push her into a corner.

Instead, Liam said, "Fine."

Her brows drew together. "Fine?"

"I will not stop you."

For the first time that night, Isolde looked genuinely confused.

"What?"

"I will not stop you," Liam repeated. "For now."

Isolde studied him as if trying to locate the trick inside the words. "You expect me to believe that?"

"I do not care what you believe."

"You just accused me of manipulating Chris and exploiting Sheila’s trust."

"Yes."

"And now you are allowing it?"

"I said I will not stop it," Liam said. "There is a difference."

Isolde’s expression shifted again, surprise giving way to caution. This was clearly not what she had expected. She had prepared for exposure, threat, anger, perhaps some cold promise of retaliation. She had even prepared to turn his evidence back against him if he tried to use it publicly. But Liam choosing not to destroy the scheme after understanding it made the ground under the conversation less stable.

Liam’s voice lowered. "Your little test may be useful. Sheila needs pressure. She needs to handle divided loyalty before Eldervale. She needs to learn how to stand without me removing every inconvenience around her."

Isolde stared.

"You are not wrong about that," he said.

The admission did not comfort her.

Somehow, it made him feel more dangerous.

Liam stepped closer, and this time the movement carried a quiet weight that made Isolde’s body want to tense even though she forced herself still. "But understand something, Student President."

The use of her title did not soften the warning.

"If your actions endanger Sheila, fracture the second-years beyond repair, make Eldervale more dangerous for everyone, or worse, force my hand into cleaning up an unnecessary problem you created, I will stop treating you like a senior."

His eyes remained locked on hers.

"And I will start treating you like a threat to my freedom."

The words were not loud.

They did not need to be.

Isolde felt the cold of them more clearly than the wind outside the glass. In that moment, Liam did not look like an angry second-year protecting a friend, nor like a dark mage throwing around intimidation because he had power.

He looked like someone who could understand the shape of a scheme, decide not to destroy it, and still make the person holding the threads feel less in control than before. That was worse than simple threat. Simple threats were predictable. Liam was telling her he had judged the usefulness of her manipulation and would permit it only as long as it served a purpose he accepted.

He was not protecting Sheila blindly.

He was allowing Sheila to be tested.

And somehow, that made him more unsettling.

Isolde’s voice came quieter than she intended. "You are very confident."

"No," Liam said. "I am irritated."

Then he walked past her.

Isolde turned slightly as he moved by, but she did not stop him. His shoulder did not brush hers. He gave her that much distance, though it felt less like courtesy and more like a final measure of restraint. His steps carried him down the enclosed walkway toward the third-year academic wing’s exit, away from her and toward whatever cold, dark path he had chosen to take back to his own dormitory.

For several seconds, Isolde remained standing where he had left her.

The lamps hummed softly. The wind moved outside. Her reflection stared faintly back at her from the dark glass, calm-faced and composed, though she did not feel nearly as settled as she looked.

Chris was easy to read.

Proud. Insecure. Useful.

Sheila was more difficult, but still understandable in the ways Isolde cared about. A princess trying to become a leader, carrying bloodline, rank, kindness, and pressure in unequal measure.

Liam Hunter was different.

She had thought he would protect Sheila directly. She had thought he would threaten, expose, or interfere. She had thought his coldness meant he would try to remove anything that irritated him before it could grow. Instead, he had seen the game, understood enough of the motive beneath it, judged its practical value, and decided to let it continue under his terms.

That was not the response of a brute.

Nor was it the response of someone merely dangerous because of combat strength.

Isolde’s fingers curled slightly at her side.

"So that is why," she murmured.

Why Percy had respected him.

Why Sheila trusted his judgment.

Why people grew uneasy when Liam Hunter went quiet.

Chris was not the only one she had underestimated.

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