Ash hadn't come to college for three days.
At first, Shyla told herself it didn't matter. She had enough to focus on, the lectures, notes, the polite blur of daily routine. But the lie wore thin fast. Every time she passed the bench near the courtyard, her steps slowed. Every time someone's laughter echoed in the distance, she half-expected to hear his voice.
Nothing but just his absence. And in that silence, Leo's voice returned.
"You see now, Master? This is how it should be. Quiet. Safe."
She pressed her palm against the locket, warm again against her chest. "You don't understand. He's not what you think."
"He's exactly what I think. You only saw what he let you see."
Her jaw tightened. "Then let me find out for myself."
The locket pulsed sharply once, twice like a heartbeat protesting hers.
Across the city, Ash stood alone by the river. The water shimmered gray under the afternoon sky, broken only by raindrops and his reflection hollow-eyed, restless.
He hadn't meant to stay away. But every time he thought of her, Alishya's voice rose like a shadow behind his ribs.
"She carries what I need. You cannot deny me forever."
He clenched his fists until his knuckles whitened. "You're gone."
"Then why do you still hear me?"
He shut his eyes. The answer was simple: because he still wanted to. Because every time he saw Shyla, the echo of Alishya's heartbeat tangled with hers, confusing him, weakening him. He could feel her blood call to him bright, fierce and every instinct screamed to take what was his.
But the moment he saw her eyes, it all fractured. She wasn't Alishya. She was something else entirely too alive, too unguarded and that terrified him.
So, he stayed away. He told himself it was mercy.
By the fourth day, Shyla had stopped pretending she didn't care.
When Leo warned her not to go looking, she ignored him again.
"He's avoiding you for a reason," the locket whispered. "Then I'll find out what that reason is," she said. "If you're right, I'll stop. But if you're wrong…"
"You'll regret it."
She almost smiled. "I already do."
She found Ash near the old library steps, leaning against the wall, half-hidden by the shadows of the afternoon. His head turned slightly when she called his name. For a second, she thought he might vanish again. But he didn't.
"Why are you avoiding me?" she asked, breathless though she'd barely run.
His gaze flicked over her face searching, hesitant. "I thought it would be better this way."
"For who?" He didn't answer.
"Leo says—"
"Leo says too much," he cut in sharply, eyes darkening. "You shouldn't listen to him."
"And I shouldn't listen to you either?" she shot back. "Because you disappear, then show up, then act like I'm supposed to just—"
He stepped closer. Not enough to touch, but enough for her to feel the air shift between them. "You don't understand what I am, Shyla."
"Then make me." He froze. Her eyes were steady, her voice low but sure.
For a second, everything went silent. Then the faint sound of the locket thrummed through the stillness, like a pulse warning her, a reminder of what she was defying.
Ash looked down, then away. "You shouldn't have come."
"Maybe," she said quietly. "But I did."
And when he walked past her, she didn't follow but neither did she put the locket back on when it dimmed in protest.
That night, the air felt heavier than usual. The city lights flickered again, just once, as though something unseen had shifted course.
Ash stood at a distance, watching the faint glow of her window. His restraint was thinning every warning he'd given her was as much for himself as for her.
"She's testing the warnings," he murmured to the night. "And I'm running out of ways to make her stop."