9. Company
Chapter nine
Company
Ash stays far longer than Oberon ever did.
There is something in the way he settles in, the ease with which he drapes himself across the chair, his weapons hanging at his sides with a casualness that speaks of confidence.
I can't help but watch him, studying every inch of his relaxed posture, every subtle movement. He isn’t worried.
Not like I am, anyway. He carries his weapons with him as if they are part of him, not expecting me to grab one and use it to escape.
I have my doubts.
Can I get past the wards if I try?
Maybe Ash doesn’t think I am capable enough to do anything about it.
Maybe he thinks I am weak. But that is his mistake. I have put on weight, I have been building my strength, and he underestimates me if he thinks I won’t fight back when the time comes.
I sit still, scrutinizing him with the kind of careful observation that only a prisoner can afford. His face remains unreadable, but there is something in his eyes, a kind of awareness that tells me he can see every flicker of skepticism that I can’t hide.
He doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he just sits there, calmly stretching. He must notice me eyeing his weapons and follow my chain of thought.
“You could give it a shot,” Ash says unfazed, “but I wouldn’t recommend it.”
I shrink back slightly, feeling the weight of his gaze piercing me.
He has an unsettling way of looking at me, like he can see right through any walls I try to put up.
That look makes me feel small, almost vulnerable.
But I refuse to show it. “Leave whatever lesson Oberon deemed necessary this week and be on your way,” I snap, trying to gather any last shred of dignity I can manage.
Ash raises an eyebrow, taking me in with a calculating focus, before allowing a smile to stretch across his face. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easily today, Sunshine,” he says with a playful grin.
Today? As if he has all the time in the world to annoy me with his presence.
“You think this is all just a game?” I growl, my hands digging into the table’s surface as anger bubbles up.
“That I am some sort of pet?” I clench my teeth, hating how he seems so unbothered by everything I feel.
“Oberon brings my lessons and leaves. I don’t want or need your supervision, or whatever it is you think this is. ”
“Company,” Ash replies simply, a slight shrug pulls at his shoulder, as though it is the most natural thing in the world.
I scoff, incredulous. “Company? I don’t want your company. Save yourself the trouble and the time and leave.” The demand in my voice cuts through the air like a blade.
He doesn’t seem fazed. I think, in fact, I may have even amused him further. His eyes flick over me, considering something for a long moment before he speaks again.
“Maybe I want your company, then,” he says with a mischievous glint in his eyes, leaning forward slightly from where he sits.
“Maybe I was bored and decided to ask Oberon if I could fill in for him today. Maybe, just maybe, I was curious about his new . . . pet. As you called it.” He tilts his head, the teasing still there in his voice.
“You’re not as much of a handful as I expected, though.
Guess that just means we’ll have to find a way to make things a little more interesting, right? ”
Pet. The word strikes me like a blow. I can feel the heat of my blood rising in an instant. Pet? I’m not anyone’s pet. I’m not some prize for Oberon or anyone else to claim. I bare my teeth at him, a growl rising from deep in my chest. “I am no one's pet!”
Ash's grin only widens as he leans back in his chair, clearly enjoying the reaction. “Well, that’s a relief,” he says with a light chuckle. “I don’t particularly care for pets. I much prefer my company a bit more . . . challenging.” He tilts his head slightly, his gaze playfully appraising.
I roll my eyes at his casualness. “Did you come here to actually teach me anything, or were you just so bored that you had to show up at my door to annoy me with your terrible sense of humor?”
“Oh, come now! Can’t it be both? I bring wisdom and bad jokes, the total package.
” Ash exclaims, delight dancing on every word.
“I mean, who else is going to brighten your day with questionable humor and life-changing knowledge?” he continues, every word laced with a carelessness I admire and loathe. “Really, you should be thanking me.”
I can’t hide the glint of amusement now reflecting in my own face. “The total package, huh?” The words are not as sharp as I want them. “Tell me, does the ‘life-changing knowledge’ come with a refund policy if it turns out to be as bad as your jokes?”
Ash’s smile deepens. “Oof, tough crowd,” he muses, placing a hand over his heart like the words sting. “Nope, no refunds. You get the full experience: delightfully terrible jokes, top-tier wisdom, and my undeniably charming company!”
Ash continues, “I’m a pretty rare find.” He holds up a hand, lifting his fingers as he names off his apparent qualities. “Charm, wit, devastatingly good looks.” He gives a mock bow. “Truly, you couldn’t have asked for a better teacher.”
I can’t contain the annoyance on my face, not that I try to hide it. “Lucky me,” I say flatly, every word laced with sarcasm.
“Ouch.” He clutches his chest again as though I’ve wounded him. “Brutal. But I’ll win you over eventually. My charm is relentless.” He chuckles with an exaggerated sigh. “You’re welcome, by the way. I usually charge extra for the full experience.”
It only takes a few hours for the strain to set in, my muscles aching and energy waning.
The lessons are tougher than I’d expected: summoning magic, manipulating elements, pushing myself further than ever before.
Surprisingly, Ash watches me with a focus I didn’t anticipate, especially after all his earlier mockery.
He only lets the occasional joke slip, careful not to let it break my concentration while keeping his attention locked on my progress.
But even with his well-timed distractions and the stark contrast between his laid-back attitude and Oberon’s teasing intensity, I can’t shake the resentment curling in my gut.
He is still here, standing in Oberon’s place.
He has been a part of this from the beginning, maybe not the worst of it, but enough.
Enough that his easy charm and careless smirks do nothing to change the past.
I hate him for it, no matter how effortless he makes it seem to fall into conversation, no matter how tempting it is to forget, just for a moment, what he is.
I’m not stupid. If Ash is willing to talk, then I will let him.
If he wants to play the part of an amused instructor, then fine, I will play along.
Because somewhere between his arrogance and his clever remarks, there are answers.
Answers I need. And if I have to smile through clenched teeth and let him think he is winning me over, so be it.
I am going to use him to find a way out.
By the time the lessons are over, I am exhausted, physically, mentally, and emotionally. My body aches from the strain of the magic, and I am drained, barely able to keep my eyes open.
Ash, however, doesn’t seem tired at all. He packs up his things and stands to leave, but not before asking one more question.
He tilts his head, a mischievous glint in his eye. “So, how long have you been gracing this cabin with your presence?” he teases. “If you have been keeping track, that is.”
I shoot him a look. “Long enough to question my life choices.”
But the question swirls through my mind.
It seems simple, but the answer isn’t. I have no idea.
I haven’t kept track. Weeks? Months? Time blurs in this place, each day flowing into the next without distinction.
I can’t even remember when I last stepped outside, felt the wind, or the sun on my skin.
The seasons outside haven’t changed much, so surely it hasn’t been too long.
He grins, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Ah, so my company has been that memorable. I knew it.”
I don’t answer right away. I have no real answer to give him. Instead, I shoot him a sharp look. “What does it matter, anyway?”
He chuckles again, the sound rich with satisfaction, as if my confusion is his favorite form of entertainment.
“Seems like it's been a while since you’ve seen the outside world, huh?” He gives me an exaggerated once-over, eyes dancing with playful sarcasm.
“Don't worry, I won’t judge you for looking a little . . . starved for fresh air.”
It is a simple observation, but it cuts deep. Before I was locked in here, I hadn’t been allowed outside either. Captivity has become my life. This place, this small cabin, is all I know now.
I glare at him, fighting the rush of emotions that rise inside me. “I’m fine.”
Ash doesn’t seem convinced, but he doesn’t push further, his stare lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary.
“I’ll see what I can do about that,” he says, his voice smooth, though there is a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“I can’t promise anything, but I’m pretty good at getting things .
. . done.” He gives me a sly grin, as if daring me to test him. “But don't get your hopes up.”
I snap, my voice cutting through the air. “Are you going to leash me up and take me for a stroll, show me off like some kind of pet?”
His laughter roars out, deep and rich, filling the small cabin and shaking the air around us.
It is a sound I haven’t heard in so long, a real, genuine laugh.
The kind of laughter that doesn’t carry malice, but warmth.
It is a sound I didn’t realize I needed, but once I hear it, I feel the weight in my chest lighten, just a little.
His eyes glint with that same maddening playfulness as he takes a slow step back, his smirk widening. “Now that’s an idea,” he teases, his tone dripping with taunting consideration. “But I think you’d prefer to walk me, wouldn’t you?”
He leans in slightly, the distance between us charged with an unspoken challenge. “Maybe next time,” he adds with a wink.
I roll my eyes. “You really think highly of yourself, don’t you?”
He taps his chin, pretending to think. “Well, when you’ve got this much charm, it’s hard not to.”
I scoff. He is infuriating but intriguing, I have to admit. “Right. And what would I owe you for such an offer?” My mind races, I don’t really believe he has any control over that, and taunting me with it makes my blood start to boil.
Ash shrugs, the mischievous glint never leaving his gaze. “Who says you’d owe me anything?”
He laughs again, an easy, unguarded sound that fills the room and makes the walls feel a little less suffocating. For a moment, I forget to be irritated.
“I do enjoy watching you get all worked up,” he notes between chuckles. “But I guess you’ll just have to trust me. I will see what I can do. No promises, and no charge.”
I stare at him, searching his face for any sign of a trap. His grin is still there, playful and infuriating, but something else flickers underneath it. Seriousness.
“I don’t trust you,” I state flatly.
Ash pushes off the doorframe and takes a step closer, closing the distance between us just enough to make the air feel thinner. “Good. You shouldn’t. But you’re curious, aren’t you?”
I hate how right he is. “I’m not some pet you can parade around,” I say, lifting my chin.
“Never said you were.” His voice softens a fraction, though the smirk stays. “But you are someone who deserves a little more than this cabin.”
I hesitate. His words aren’t wrapped in teasing this time. And that look in his eyes makes my stomach twist.
Finally, I force a scoff and look away. “If this is a trick, I’m going to make you regret it.”
Ash’s grin returns in full force. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He steps back, walking back toward the door with a dramatic flourish. “Careful, sunshine,” he adds with a wink. “Wouldn’t want you getting too attached to the idea of fresh air just yet.”
And with that, he disappears through the door, shutting it behind him, leaving only the faint echo of his laughter and the whisper of fresh air that seems to linger long after he is gone.