Chapter 33
Seph
I brooded over the night’s events until my thoughts went sour.
Hours passed, but the image of K slipping from the trees—
that fleeting, satisfied look—
kept replaying like a glitch in my mind.
Echo must’ve gotten bored of my silence, because she began flicking tiny paper balls at my head.
The first one bounced off my temple.
The second landed in my lap.
The third hit me square between the eyes.
“I got the hint,” I muttered, picking one up. “You’re getting better at your aim.”
A rustle, then my pen lifted and scribbled across the page she used to communicate with me.
A tiny smiley face.
Despite everything, the corner of my mouth twitched.
“How strong are you really?” I asked quietly.
She hesitated, then drew a question mark.
“I’m sorry,” I corrected softly. “I mean… can you leave this room at all?”
Another pause.
A sad face.
Then a question mark beside it.
Then—
slowly—
another.
Like she didn’t quite know the answer either.
“I’m sorry, Echo.”
A soft brush of air skimmed my cheek — gentle, apologetic. She’d heard me.
Another thought tugged at me, something that had been gnawing at the edges of my mind since the fire.
“The other day,” I whispered, “when you got scared… why were you scared for me?”
The pen hovered.
Stilled.
Then moved with jerky, urgent strokes:
C U D N T F E L
I frowned. “You couldn’t feel what?”
A beat.
The pen scratched again.
U
My breath hitched.
“You couldn’t feel me? Do you feel me?” I asked, voice barely above a breath.
Echo hesitated — long enough that unease prickled along my spine.
Then she wrote:
I N S I D
Inside.
A cold ripple went through me.
I leaned back on my bed slowly, staring at the word, my heart thudding hard against my ribs.
Echo could feel me.
But only from the inside.
What the hell does that mean?
“When you feel me… is it only when I’m in the Institute?” I whispered.
The pen moved immediately:
Y E S
“And what do you feel, Echo?”
My voice softened. “When you feel me?”
A pause — like she wanted to get the word right.
Then:
F R E N D
A shaky breath left my lungs. I hadn’t realised how tight they’d been.
“You’re my friend?” I asked.
Y E S
Warmth pricked behind my eyes. “I’m glad,” I murmured. “God knows I could use a friend or two.”
I barely had time to exhale before a frantic knock hammered at my front door.
I jolted upright.
Echo’s pen rolled off the desk.
Cautiously, I crossed the room and opened the door.
Ash stood there.
Wide-eyed.
Alert.
Like he’d run through a storm and was still listening for thunder.
The moment he saw me, the tension in his shoulders broke — his whole face lit up in this raw, relieved way that made my heart lurch.
“Hey,” I breathed.
He didn’t say a word.
He just moved — fast — throwing himself at me in a desperate, impulsive hug.
I flinched back on instinct.
His expression shattered.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” he blurted, stumbling away from me, fists clenched at his sides like he was holding himself together by sheer force.
“Ash—wait.”
I stepped forward and touched his shoulder, grounding him before he spiralled.
“It’s okay. I’m not…”
I swallowed hard, the truth heavy but steady.
“I’m not scared of you, Ash.”
His breath hitched — a sharp, disbelieving sound.
Like that one sentence was something he had needed for years.
Slowly, cautiously, he leaned into my touch, closing his eyes.
A low, almost involuntary rumble vibrated in his chest — not quite a purr, not quite a sigh, something primal and painfully earnest.
“There was a fire,” he murmured, voice rough with worry. “And I was looking for you. The winds told me you were near it.”
“The wind told you?” I asked gently.
He nodded, opening his eyes but not moving away from my palm.
“I can hear them sometimes,” he said quietly. “They come and go. They… whisper things. When something’s wrong.”
My chest tightened.
Of course they would whisper about me — my power always woke in chaos.
“I’m okay,” I said softly. “I was there, but I’m fine.”
He breathed out shakily, relief washing over him so hard his knees almost seemed to go weak.
But beneath the relief…
his aura crackled.
Uneasy. Searching.
“I was scared for you.”
“I know. Do you want to come in?” I asked him.
He nodded, his smile immediate. He bounded on to my couch.
I took a breath and moved slowly.
“Where’s the firebug?” he asked, looking around.
I frowned. “She’s in the hospital. She was there last night. And don’t call her that.”
His eyes went big, real fast.
“I’m sorry. Is she hurt?”
“I don’t know what happened. All I know is that I saw the fire take and I found her.”
“Did she light the fire?” he asked.
I frowned again. “Everyone is going to think so. But I don’t think she did it.”
“She’s a pyro,” he said bluntly.
“That doesn’t make her automatically guilty,” I snapped.
Ash whimpered.
Actually whimpered.
I stared at him. “Gods, aren’t you supposed to be the scariest mage in this entire place? And here you are giving me puppy-dog eyes.”
“Is it working?” he asked hopefully.
Despite myself, I snorted. “A little. Not gonna lie.”
He lit up, grin bright and boyish. “You have the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen.”
Heat flared across my face, and I ducked my head, letting my hair fall forward like a curtain.
“Ash…”
“I know you said no touching,” he murmured. “That’s okay. I won’t touch if you don’t want me to.”
His voice softened, reverent in a way that made my heart stutter.
“But you are so beautiful, Seph.”
From the open bedroom, a flutter of paper slid into the air — unsteady, playful — before drifting straight toward me. A tiny heart was drawn on it.
It landed neatly in my hand.
Ash barked a delighted laugh. “Now that’s my kind of ghost.”
A phantom breeze ruffled his hair.
He grinned, flicking out a pulse of air magic in answer.
The two forces — Echo’s subtle shimmer and Ash’s wild gust — met in the middle of the room, swirling like excited children.
My books rustled.
A pile of worksheets toppled.
“Hey—hey! You two.” I tried not to laugh. “Don’t mess up my room.”
A combined gust — absolutely intentional — knocked over one of my bead boxes.
Beads scattered like spilled stars across the floor.
“Echo!” I groaned.
Ash dropped into a crouch beside me immediately, helping scoop them up. “What are these?”
“Um… nothing. Just a stupid hobby.”
My cheeks burned. Why was everything embarrassing around him?
“Nothing you do is stupid,” he said simply.
My face got hotter. “I make jewellery. Necklaces. Earrings. Sometimes bracelets.”
“Bracelets?” His gaze flicked to the one on my wrist.
Instinctively, my fingers curled over it.
“I didn’t make this one,” I said quietly.
“Oh.” He blinked, accepting that without probing — which almost made it worse. “Well, I like the colours. I think I saw one the other day in our room—”
Knock knock.
We both jumped, heads snapping toward the doorway.
Dev leaned against the hall wall, spinning his blade between his fingers with absent precision. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes flicked over the scattered beads… then to Ash’s proximity… then to the bracelet I was clutching.
“Hope I’m not interrupting,” Dev drawled.
Which, coming from him, meant he absolutely knew he was.
“Hey, Dev. How are you?” I tried for polite, formal — the safer choice around him.
“Getting on.” His eyes flicked from me to Ash to the bead box on the floor. “I thought I’d escort you to breakfast. But I see you already have company.”
“Breakfast sounds great,” I said quickly.
Ash brightened instantly. “I can run ahead and get your food ready!”
“Ash, you don’t have to—”
“I want to.” He bounced on his toes, a grin stretching across his face. “I like doing stuff for you, Seph.”
And gods help me, I melted.
I reached out, taking his hand. For a moment, his fingers closed around my glove like it was precious. Like he didn’t realize how dangerous it could be for me to hold on longer.
I let go before I had to, flexing my fingers against the sudden hollow absence of warmth.
Ash didn’t seem bothered. He beamed at me one last time, then dashed out the door with a gust of wind that lifted my hair off my shoulders.
The moment he was gone, the room fell still.
Dev hadn’t moved.
He was watching my hand.
“So,” he said.
“So?” I echoed.
“You touched Ash?” His voice was calm — too calm.
I curled my fingers into a fist. “You make it sound dirty. I held his hand.”
Dev’s mouth tugged into a low, knowing smile that sent heat up my neck. “It’s just interesting, that’s all.”
“I can touch,” I said defensively. “To an extent. Unless I’m emotionally overwhelmed. Then all bets are off.”
“You can?”
He stepped closer, the blade flipping silently between his fingers.
“It took me a long time. Years,” I said. “When you’re alone in a room, it’s amazing what you figure out about yourself. I can control it on most of my body. Except—”
“Your hands,” he finished for me.
“My gloves are a good shield. They need to be. My hands are like… conduits. Most of it focuses there.”
“But that’s not why you wear gloves.”
“Yes and no,” I admitted quietly. “I spent a long time with no autonomy. I’ve never really known what it’s like to be…”
I hesitated.
“Touched,” Dev said, voice lower now — something warm and dangerous flickering beneath it.
I gave a small, sheepish smile. “Yeah.”
He watched me too closely. Too intently.
“Would you… would you ever touch me?” Dev asked quietly.
I stilled. “Do you want me to?”
He stared at me. The air around me thickened with tension. His hands clenched, like he wanted to reach for me. But then something crossed his face, a type of resolve that confused me.
“Maybe one day.” he said quietly, stepping back.
“Then maybe I will. One day.” I said, my voice quiet. I felt warm in a way I didn’t understand. I rubbed my gloved hand across my face and looked around the room, trying to distract myself.
For a moment, we were silent.
“With Ash…” I swallowed finally. “I don’t know. I feel him. He needs touch. It grounds him. So I’m… trying. I want him to feel safe with me.”
“Safe?” Dev scoffed. “Watching the way he was with you in here — there’s nothing safe about the way Ash feels for you. Or K.”
“Dev.”
“Hear me out, Seph.” He stepped into my space, eyes sharp. “K cares about you. He really does. And he knows he’s fucked up along the way.”
“Why do you keep defending him?” I snapped. “Why isn’t he here, defending himself?”
Dev went still — really still.
“Maybe,” he said, voice low, “because you keep shutting him down.”
I lifted my chin. “Whatever K has done, those were his choices. I shouldn’t have to chase him for answers when, for three years, he never once gave me the same courtesy.”
“You’re right.”
I blinked. “I am?”
Dev nodded once.
“K should have talked to you. He shouldn’t have cut you out. That part’s on him.”
A tightness pulled at my chest, unwanted and familiar.
“But,” Dev added quietly, “he wouldn’t have done it for no reason.”
I crossed my arms. “There’s always a reason. Doesn’t make it good.”
“Didn’t say it did.”
He didn’t move any closer, but somehow the space between us had changed — charged, tense, like he was holding something he refused to drop.
“You two have things you need to talk about,” Dev said. “And you’re both avoiding it.”
“I’m not avoiding anything,” I lied.
Dev’s mouth twitched — not a smile, just… knowing.
“Sure,” he murmured. “If you say so.”
I looked away.
“Look, tonight there’s a bonfire. Out by the woods. The guards let us relax a bit on the weekends. K will be there. You should come.”
“Maybe I’m busy,” I said, raising my chin. “I was going to go see Jess.”
Dev actually laughed. “They will never let you in.”
“Why not?”
“They think she burned down the hall, for one. Of course she’s guarded.”
“She didn’t do it!” I snapped. “I know it!”
“How?” Dev asked, his voice calm.
I just stared at him, willing him to understand. “How do you think?”
He watched me closely, then nodded, realising. “Well, Shit.”
I laughed. “Shit is right.”
Dev rubbed his chin, looking thoughtful.
“If I can get you in, will you come to the bonfire?” he said finally.
“Dev – “
“Please, Seph.” He said.
Please.
Dev said please.
“Fine. If you can get me in to see Jess I will go to your stupid party.”
He grinned at me. “I think you have a deal.”