POV: Mason Reed
Tessa had gone quiet, and that was weird. Because if there was one thing I'd already learned in five hours of knowing her, it was that silence wasn't her thing.
We were perched near the edge of the courtyard fountain when a sharp whistle cut through the air. Someone—blonde, confident, glowing like he stepped out of a magazine cover—sauntered into view, spinning a silver dagger casually between his fingers.
"Speak of the devil," Tessa muttered. "And there he is. Logan Hayes."
The name made the whispers around us snap louder.
I raised a brow. "That's one of the Hayes?"
Tessa nodded. "Middle child. Lightning user. Charmer. Dueling prodigy. Breaks rules, hearts, and occasionally doors. Thinks he's the universe's gift to magic."
I watched as Logan strutted across the courtyard, a cocky grin on his face as he approached a small cluster of upperclassmen. One of them, a guy in a dark crimson uniform, stepped forward. Too fast. Too aggressive.
"You owe me a rematch, Hayes," the guy growled.
Logan's dagger stilled in the air, catching sunlight like a flash of warning. "I owe you nothing, Ashwin. Unless you want another public defeat and another bruised ego to cry about."
Tension cracked, literal sparks snapping around Logan's fingers.
Tessa exhaled like this was Tuesday.
"They hate each other," she explained. "Logan fried him during a duel once—spectacularly, I might add. It's been bad blood ever since."
I blinked. "Charming."
"Oh, he is," she said, smirking. "And devastatingly pretty, but you don't want that mess unless you have a fire extinguisher and a therapist."
Logan's stormy eyes flicked toward us for the briefest moment, and then he flashed a smile that could've short-circuited the Academy's lights.
I gave a little shrug. "Not my type."
"Good," she said. "He's everyone's type, and that's the problem."
Before I could comment, the crowd shifted again.
And there she was.
Long dark hair pulled into a sleek braid, posture straight like a blade, eyes the color of steel warmed by sunlight. She was elegance sharpened by fire.
Tessa leaned in. "That's Liliana Hayes. Oldest. Fire user—like you. Except scarier. Intimidating. Wicked smart. She aced her Elemental Mastery trials in record time."
"She's beautiful," I murmured.
"Yup," Tessa agreed. "But approach with caution. Liliana doesn't suffer fools. She'll see right through you before you've decided what to say."
Liliana's gaze scanned the crowd, sharp and knowing. She nodded politely to someone, but her eyes never softened. She moved like someone who'd already done this a hundred times and had no time for the games.
And then everything got quiet.
Like, weirdly quiet.
Even Logan stopped laughing.
From the far end of the courtyard, a lone figure stepped through the archway.
Tall, lean, dressed in black like he wanted to disappear into the shadows he didn't seem to fear. Hair dark, eyes unreadable. A stillness surrounded him like ice that hadn't yet cracked.
Caleb Hayes.
"That's the youngest," Tessa whispered, suddenly serious. "Caleb."
My chest tightened before I could stop it.
Tessa continued, low and careful. "No one really knows what his ability is. Or if he has one. Rumors say he's powerless. Some think he's just here because of the Hayes name."
Caleb passed Logan without even a glance. Logan's smirk flickered but he didn't speak.
The crowd watched him like he was a puzzle they couldn't solve.
And the guy—Caleb—looked like he didn't care one bit.
But then Ashwin—the same guy who had beef with Logan—scoffed. Loudly. "Didn't know they were letting non-magicals tour the courtyard."
That's when Caleb stopped walking.
Just one step.
Just one.
But that pause—like a lion pausing before a pounce—set off a ripple of unease through the air. His gaze turned toward Ashwin. No magic. No words.
And still, Ashwin flinched.
"That," Tessa said softly, "is a guy who's one second away from burning down someone's world."