Chapter 24
Seph
I dreamed of water.
It surrounded me, numbed me. There was light, but it was blurred, distorted—like I was looking through something thick.
Where am I?
Something was in my throat. Rubber. Invasive.
I gagged, panic flaring as I tried to breathe.
What is happening to me?
I tried to move. Tried to strike out—
My hand hit glass.
Solid. Unyielding.
Glass?
Help me.
The word clawed at my chest, silent and useless.
HELP ME.
I woke with a violent jolt in my dorm room.
I sucked in air, coughing, one hand flying to my throat. For a second—just a second—it still felt tight. Raw. Like something had been there and only just been removed.
My heart hammered as I forced myself to breathe normally.
I sat up, dragging a hand down my face.
On the desk beside my bed lay the scraggly note my… ghost had drawn.
Echo.
I smiled despite myself and stood, peering at it. The paper lay there as if it were watching me back.
A faint whisper brushed my cheek. Not a sound—more a feeling.
Sad.
Knock knock!
The sharp rap on the door made me jump.
I hurried over and pulled it open to reveal a grumpy, dour-faced guard.
Ivan.
He shoved a folded note into my hand and turned away without a word.
“Good morning to you too,” I muttered, shutting the door.
I looked down at the note.
Good morning, Persephone.
Please come see me in my office at 8am.
Regards,
MW
“Fantastic,” I grumbled, grimacing.
As I stood to go wash up, I couldn’t help but look back at the page on my desk.
“Echo?” I called softly.
I felt her phantom touch at my back. I closed my eyes. I smiled.
She was still here.
“I’ve got to go out. But I’ll come back.”
A gentle touch at my back answered me.
“Don’t get into trouble today.”
The room was silent—
but in my mind, I swore she was smiling.
**
Miranda Wild was back at her desk when I entered her office, prim as a dagger and twice as sharp. She looked up, and the disapproval in her eyes hit me before she even spoke.
“Good morning, Miss Quinn,” she said once the doors closed behind me.
“Warden.” I nodded.
“So.” She folded her hands. “How have you settled in this week?”
“Fine, I suppose. Monstrous creatures notwithstanding.”
Her lips thinned. “Yes, that was a horrible thing. A local homeless person on a nasty trip. Drugs. They’re killers, you know.”
Considering Darkmoor was surrounded by nothing but forest and rocks for miles, I wasn’t buying a word of it.
“Do we have many homeless people around the school?” I asked.
“More than you think!” She brightened, falsely. “Why, just the other day I was in town and saw at least two.” She smiled conspiratorially, like this was some sort of shared joke.
“Right,” I said flatly. “So… is this why you brought me here? To talk about my week?”
“Miss Quinn,” she sighed, placing a hand over her heart as though wounded, “I am not the monster you want me to be. I care very deeply for the… people within these walls. I want everyone here to remain healthy and well.” Her voice softened, but her eyes stayed cold.
Calculating. “Though I must admit, I do have some concerns about you.”
“Concerns?”
She waved a hand, rolling her eyes like I was being dramatic. “It has come to my attention that you’ve been spending quite a lot of time with several less… desirable individuals in this facility.”
“You told me to make friends,” I reminded her.
“Yes, well,” Wild sniffed, sitting back. “Miss Quinn, though we aren’t exactly advertising it, you do come from rather precious stock.”
I leaned back in my chair. “Would you rather a particular group of people? Or just not the ones I’ve already met?”
“Miss Quinn.” Wild steepled her fingers. “Your father is a very important man. He asks about you all the time.”
A lie. I didn’t need magic to know that.
She continued anyway. “Should I tell him you’ve been spending your time with the feral air mage? The one who collects knives? The pyro? Or the Hawthorne boy?”
I held her gaze. “They look out for me. They’re strong. I’d think Father would be pleased.”
Her smile sharpened. “He has sent me a list of preferred families to focus on.”
Of course he had.
She slid a folded paper toward me on the desk like it was a peace treaty.
I opened it.
Lyra’s name was near the top.
A laugh bubbled out of me before I could stop it. “Lyra wants nothing to do with me.”
“Well, she’s not the only one.” Wild tapped the paper with one lacquered fingernail. “Oliver Donahue. Rod Jameson. Victor Lightwood. All here. All excellent candidates. They come from good, solid stock.”
I stared at the list, each name feeling like a chain.
“Do you want me to date one of them?” I asked flatly. “Should I just spread my legs now and be bred?”
Her eyebrows jumped. “Goodness, no! Though,” she added with a delicate shrug, “alliances do form naturally between the right kinds of people. And you, Miss Quinn, come from exceptional lineage. Your father would be devastated if you wasted your time with… scraps.”
I set the list down. “Scraps,” I repeated. “By which you mean actual human beings.”
Wild waved a hand lightly. “You’re being dramatic.”
“I’m being realistic.”
She tilted her head. “And the feral air mage? What would you call him?”
The image of Ash guiding me toward the bed last night flashed in my mind—gentle, quiet, controlled in a way I didn’t think he was capable of.
My stomach knotted. “He’s not dangerous to me.”
“Well,” she said, adjusting her papers, “until your father gives explicit permission, I must insist you keep your distance from those boys. They’re not suited to someone of your background.”
“No one here knows my last name or who I am.”
“Be that as it may, should it come out, it is important to make the right… impression.”
I blinked. Slowly. “So you’re banning me from my friends.”
Wild sighed theatrically. “No, dear. I’m simply guiding you toward what’s best for you. For all of us.”
There it was.
The truth underneath.
Not about my health.
Not about my safety.
Control.
Always control.
Her smile thinned. “I’m glad you understand.”
“Oh, I understand perfectly,” I said. “You don’t want me choosing the wrong allies.”
“I don’t want you choosing the wrong future,” she corrected.
“Same thing.”
“My dear. You have been looking at your time here all wrong. Yes, for some, this place is a prison. It’s true.
But for others – Darkmoor is an opportunity.
To change. To better yourself. Once you leave us, you will have a much better understanding of what is expected of you in the future.
Of what you can do for your father and the council. ”
“So magnanimous,” I crossed my arms.
Wild folded her hands, the picture of patient condescension. “You are your father’s daughter. One day, what he has could be yours—”
“I don’t want what he has. And he doesn’t want me either.”
A flick of irritation crossed her face. “Be that as it may, his reputation reflects on you. And your… associations reflect on him.”
“Associations,” I echoed. “You mean friends.”
“Friends,” Wild repeated, as though it were a foreign word. “Miss Quinn, you are not some ordinary girl who can afford to attach herself to trouble. You are different and you and I both know that.”
“My father didn’t care what happened to me for years,” I said. “And now he cares who I eat lunch with?”
Wild’s expression did not change. “Your father entrusted me to keep you on the right path.”
“And that list?” I nodded toward the paper. “That’s the path?”
She didn’t deny it.
Of course she didn’t.
“Oliver Donahue is from a very established line,” she said. “The Donahue’s have produced brilliant healers for generations. Rod Jameson is practically royalty among light-born. And Victor Lightwood—”
“—likes to spit in people’s food and got suspended for beating his roommate with a chair.”
Wild blinked once. “Boys will be boys.”
I stared.
Then I laughed.
Sharp. Cold. Too loud.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Miss Quinn, I am offering you guidance.”
“You’re offering me a collar,” I said. “You just want me to like it.”
Something flickered in her expression—annoyance, maybe. Or fear.
“Your father would be very disappointed in this tone.”
I laughed out loud. “My father is always disappointed.”
Her gaze sharpened. “Then perhaps you should try harder not to be the cause.”
That did it.
The pressure in my chest tightened, burning beneath my ribs.
“I’ll spend time with whoever I choose,” I said quietly.
Wild smiled like I’d said something adorable. “Not until your father gives permission.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
She leaned forward, eyes glittering.
“Then you won’t see them again.”
A chill ran down my spine.
Not from her.
From the certainty in her voice.
She meant it.
I stared at her. “If I don’t listen to you… what happens then? What exactly will you do?”
Her smile sharpened. “Well, there is the matter of your name. We could make things a little more complicated around here.”
“So you want to blackmail me,” I said, voice flat. “I can’t use my name because it shames my family, but you’ll expose it the moment I don’t obey. Tell me—do you think my father would like that?”
“Miss Quinn—”
“No.”
I leaned forward, planting both hands on the table.
“Let me make something clear. You don’t scare me, Ms Wild. If you want to release my name—do it. I don’t care. Don’t you see that?”
Her nostrils flared. Her eyes thinned to razor slits.
“You know what I am,” I said softly. “You know what I can do. Remember that next time you try to threaten me.”
“Tread carefully, Miss Quinn,” she hissed.
I straightened. My shadow stretched long across her desk.
“No, Ms Wild. The only one who needs to be careful… is you.”
**
I left her office alone and just kept walking. It was early morning and very few people were out and about. But I didn’t want to go back to my room. And the boys would be in the cafeteria.
So I went out the door to the lake.
My spot was empty for once, and it saddened me. I missed the slight smell of smoke, and the overwhelming presence of my stranger.
For a moment he made me think of the dragon.
My dragon.
I don’t know why I thought that.
They both had the same presence. The same strength.