Rynn shifted beside her. "She has another class, is there a problem?"
Orion's gaze moved to him, "She doesn't anymore and you know better than to speak out of turn."
"It's fine," Seravyn murmured. Her tone was even, but her chest ached.
She took a step forward. Then another.
By the time she stopped before him, he wasn't breathing.
He breathed out, shaky, almost soundless. "Seravyn."
Her throat tightened. "You wanted a word."
He glanced past her, toward her friends at the stairs. "Not here."
His hand found the small of her back. Light, barely there, but it was enough to make her forget what air was.
"Walk with me."
The noise of the hall dimmed as they moved towards the outer wing.
She didn't ask where they were going. Didn't trust her voice to hold.
When they turned the corner and the last echo of footsteps faded, he stopped and for a breathless second, she thought he might speak.
He didn't.
He just reached for her.
The air left her lungs when he pulled her in. His arms came around her like a dam breaking, and the world went very still.
It wasn't gentle. It was desperate, her face pressed against his chest, his breath shuddering like he'd been holding it for days.
She froze. Then she broke too.
Her hands trembled as they fisted in his uniform. "What are you doing here?"
He didn't let go. "Come with me."
He led her through another door, out into a secluded garden half-hidden behind the east wing with stone benches tangled in ivy, fountains stilled by frost.
He stared ahead, jaw tight. "I'm enrolled too."
Her breath hitched. "You're what?"
"Ashen path, mostly."
She blinked, trying to make sense of it. "You were a guard. You… you came into my cell."
"I was placed there," he said softly. "Under command. I needed to know what they were doing to you."
Her chest clenched. "And now?"
He turned to her then, eyes softer than she remembered. "Now I can make sure they don't do it again."
She laughed once, brittle. "You think being here changes anything?"
"Sera…"
"No." She shook her head. "A few days ago, I was naked and bloodied on a stone floor. Now they call it a classroom instead of a cell, but I'm still caged."
He didn't argue. Didn't try to comfort her.
Then, quietly, "Does your back still hurt?"
Her breath caught. "That's not the priority, Orion."
"It's mine."
Something twisted inside her. "You shouldn't say things like that."
"I mean them anyway."
She looked away, to the tiny band glinting faintly around her ankle. "What is actually going on?" "Why are you here, really?"
He exhaled slowly. "They keep tabs on me too. I'm not free, not really. But I can move between walls you can't. I can listen. Slip things past their eyes."
"So you're their spy."
"No," he said, "I'm yours."
Her lips parted. "What does that even mean?"
He laughed under his breath, "Do you like Lamia and Rowan?"
She blinked. "They're… alright, I guess. Why?"
"Just making sure you're not completely alone." His gaze dipped, "You're really
…" he hesitated, then said it anyway "really beautiful today."
She scoffed and punched his shoulder. "How does that help anything?"
He caught her wrist before she could pull away, his fingers wrapping around hers, warm and steady. "It doesn't," he said, voice quiet. "But you need to avoid trouble. Try to blend in. Just fit, somehow."
"Oh please," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "It's not like I'm troublesome."
"You look like trouble in this outfit."
She hissed, dragging her hand back and turning away, cheeks burning. "You're impossible."
He only smiled faintly, that half-tilted grin that made her want to both strangle and kiss him. "You should catch up with your friends. Head to class."
"They're not my friends," she said sharply.
"Rynn seemed ready to fight me for you," he murmured.
Her mouth twisted. "Orion, I'm so lost."
Something in him cracked at that. His hands rose to her shoulders, his thumbs brushed slow circles there.
"I know," he said softly. "I'll come find you by sunset. We'll talk properly then."
Her voice was small. "Where?"
"I'll find you."
He stood first, then reached for her hand. She hesitated before letting him pull her up.
They started toward the common grounds in silence.
Halfway there, she stopped. "Wait."
He turned, brows furrowing, but before he could say a word, she closed the space between them and wrapped her arms around him again.
It wasn't like before. It was softer, shaking slightly, her breath caught somewhere between relief and ache.
His arms came up around her, careful this time. One hand brushed a loose strand of hair from her face.
"I'll make sure you're safe," he said quietly.
Her throat burned. She nodded once, stepping back before the moment could swallow her whole.
And then she turned and walked toward Rynn and the others.
He watched her go, jaw tight, as if letting her walk away was the hardest thing he'd ever done.
By the time she got back, only Rynn and Ryver were still there.
Ryver lounged against the railing, boots crossed at the ankle. "We told the others to go ahead and save seats."
Rynn didn't look so casual. His eyes skimmed her face, searching. "How do you know Orion Athlar?"
"I don't," she said.
Ryver snorted. "Yeah, right."
She ignored him."Can we go to the next class?"
Rynn didn't move. "Seriously. Orion?"
She lifted a shoulder. "Didn't catch his name."
Ryver grinned. "Liar."
She started walking anyway.
"Wrong direction babes," Ryver called after her.
She stopped, turned halfway, and deadpanned, "Then lead the way."
Rynn sighed, rubbing a hand down his face as Ryver pushed off the railing with a low whistle.
"Careful Vale," Ryver said as they fell into step beside her. "Whatever's between you and Athlar? People notice things like that here."
"I told you," she said flatly, "there's nothing between us."
"Sure," Ryver drawled. "And I'm the Headmaster's favorite student."
Rynn muttered, "You wish."
"Please," Ryver said, smirking, "he does wish."
Seravyn exhaled, dragging a hand through her hair. "Please tell me the next class doesn't have rats too."
Ryver barked a laugh. "Depends on your definition of rats."
Rynn shot him a look. "Ignore him. We've got Cognitive Psych next."
"Mind games," Ryver said, waggling his brows. "My specialty."
"Your only specialty is detention," Rynn muttered.
They reached the Cognitive Psych hall just as the last bell rang.
Neil, Citrine, and Fey were already there, half slouched in the middle row. Rynn found an empty seat and tugged it out for her without a word.
Citrine turned halfway, "You good? This professor's a mind-fuck."
Seravyn sat, keeping her voice even. "I can hold my own."
"Sure doll," Citrine muttered. "Just…don't look him in the eye too long. He's one of those."
Before Seravyn could ask what those meant, the door hissed shut behind a man in a long grey coat. Long golden glossy hair and sun colored eyes. Faerie.
Professor Taern.
"Good afternoon, initiates," he said "Today we begin with the first rule of survival—shielding."
He paced the front of the class, hands folded neatly behind his back. "Who can tell me what shielding is?"
A hand lifted near the front. "It's the blocking of one's mind from external control, sir."
"Correct," Taern said. "It is a skill taught the moment most of you can walk. There are ranks, of course weak, moderate, advanced."
The Ashen Path, his mouth curved faintly, "are unmatched in both compulsion and defense. As I should know."
He turned, eyes skimming lazily across the room like he could see through their skulls. "Now everyone. Raise your shields."
Seravyn blinked, heart pounding. She had no idea what to do.
"Good," Taern murmured. "Let's see who among you can't hold."
He didn't chant. Didn't move. Just spoke.
"Jump out of your seat."
Every head stayed bowed. Every hand still.
Except hers.
Her chair screeched backward as she jolted upright, the sound cutting through the silence like a scream.
"Oh, fuck," Ryver muttered under his breath.
Taern's gaze found her immediately. "Name?"
"Seravyn," she said tightly.
He smiled faintly. "Vale."
Her chin lifted. "Popular already, huh?"
A ripple of laughter.
"Indeed," he murmured. "Now, Miss Vale, tell me, what does it feel like to have an open door for a mind?"
She said nothing.
The corners of his mouth twitched. "Extend your arms behind your back."
Her muscles seized before her mind caught up. Pain licked up her shoulders.
Rynn's voice snapped, "Professor—"
"Further," Taern said, ignoring him.
Seravyn's teeth ground together. The ache burned white behind her eyes. "This is bullshit."
Taern's eyes gleamed. "Language, Miss Vale. You are being educated. On your knees."
Her knees hit the ground. The sting jolted up her legs, but she stayed upright, panting.
"This is uncalled for," she spat. "You don't even know me."
The compulsion rippled again—she could feel it pressing through her skull.
"Concentrate," he said. "Find the entry of my voice. Build a wall around it."
"I would like to stand up now."
His voice slid through the air. "Drop your head to the ground."
Her body obeyed. Her palms hit the cold floor, breath shuddering.
Laughter broke like thunder across the room.
Then Taern's voice purred:
"Now say it—'Oh supreme ruler, Master Taern. I'm your humble pupil. Fill me up till I'm full of your wisdom and your knowledge is dripping out of me.'"
The class howled.
Seravyn's jaw clenched so hard it ached. Blood tasted like iron on her tongue.
Citrine shot to her feet. "That is absurdity."
Silence slammed down.
Taern didn't even turn.
"Absurdity," he echoed. "Is it absurd to test the limits of weakness?"
"She's bleeding," Citrine snapped.
Seravyn's breath came in ragged bursts. She could feel the sting tearing through her back. The cuts hadn't healed; they were opening again, bleeding through her top in hot, wet streaks.
The smell of iron hit her nose.
Tears spilled down her cheeks, silent and furious. Her lips moved before she could stop them.
"Oh… supreme ruler… Master Taern," she rasped, the words strangled, "I'm your humble pupil. Fill me up till I'm full of your wisdom and your knowledge is dripping out of me."
The class went still. No laughter now, just the slow crawling awareness that something had gone very wrong.
Blood pooled beneath her palms.
Rynn surged to his feet. "That's enough!"
Taern didn't even look at him. "Sit down."
Rynn didn't move. "You're torturing her."
The professor's smile sharpened. "Go for a hike."
The compulsion rippled like a shockwave. Rynn staggered, caught himself.
"No," he hissed.
"Ocypete," Taern murmured.
Rynn gritted his teeth, the veins in his neck straining. "Not today."
" Celaeno."
His body jerked once, then he exhaled and ran straight out of the hall.
A murmur ran through the students. Ryver ran after him.
Taern turned back to Seravyn. "You see, Miss Vale? Resistance is futile without control."
He approached slowly, "Lets have a look shall we."
She could feel him near her.
"Don't," she whispered. "Do not touch me."
He ignored her.
"Do not touch me," she said again, voice breaking.
Taern reached out, fingers inches from her back—
Her head snapped up.
Her eyes weren't blue anymore. They were white. Glowing. Empty and infinite all at once.
"You will not touch me."
The words weren't shouted. They resonated.
Taern froze mid reach. His hand hung suspended in the air, trembling against nothing.
His pupils dilated. "What what are you—"
The class erupted. Gasps, chairs scraping, someone whispered, "She's compelling him, she's actually…"
Seravyn rose, slow, unsteady, white eyes locked on him.
Taern's knees buckled. He fought for breath, but no sound came out.
"Get away from me," she said softly.
He stumbled back, eyes wide in disbelief.
Neil was already moving, he caught her just as her knees gave out, steadying her by the arms.
"Holy hell," he breathed. "You just compelled an Ashen."
Seravyn blinked, disoriented. The white drained from her eyes, leaving them raw and wet. "What—what did I—"
"You don't wanna know," Fey muttered, "Come on. Before he snaps out of it."
Citrine was already grabbing their bags. "She needs the infirmary…"
But Seravyn wasn't listening. Her vision blurred and the world stopped.