Chapter 1 Jasmine #2
Her apartment is beautifully furnished, all sleek monochrome tones I hadn’t really noticed before.
But the one thing that catches my attention is the view.
A large bay window takes up the wall in front of me, leading onto a small balcony overlooking the district, even the Council building, though I try not to look in that direction.
We never talked about the apartment, but from first glance it was clear the extravagance of this place didn’t match someone who healed animals for a living.
I was also certain we were on the top floor, though I’d never even ventured into the hallway.
I figured pretty quickly that someone must have given this place to her.
They probably had.
“...and it looks like he’s even learnt how to feed the phoenixes, which is really tricky. I’m wondering if he looked it up or something…”
Kacey keeps talking, and I keep drifting, catching a few lines at a time, which is just enough to know what she’s talking about.
After the first night, when we both passed out on the sofa from exhaustion, she woke up in a panic about her animals and who was taking care of them.
She told me that once, after her incident with losing control in the canteen, she’d been advised to take a few days’ leave.
Her ghosts couldn’t be controlled from that distance, but Kacey said the lord-who-shan’t-be-named had someone set up a full monitoring station in her apartment, just so she could have virtual access to every room in the atrium.
He also brought in earth elementals who had worked in other atriums across the district.
Kacey said that ever since, they’ve been kept on call for emergencies.
It all sounded very... thoughtful. I guess.
But when Kacey told me her atrium wasn’t the only one, that there were several more in this district alone, it reignited my anger at her isolation.
The first time we properly spoke, Kacey told me people didn’t like necromancers, feared them, and it still makes me feel sick. She always made it sound like she chose isolation, but it was forced upon her.
So when I saw the screens, saw groups of capable people helping in her atrium after all those years she spent alone… I had to step away.
Until he appeared. The dragon shifter. Kacey’s bond.
I wasn’t even tapping into her emotions, but the dread hit so hard I almost dropped to my knees from the sheer pressure.
So when Kacey wasn’t busy poisoning me with her baked goods or smothering me with her concern, she was glued to her own monitor.
Obviously just to check on her animals. Absolutely nothing more.
“You know he’s only helping because he thinks you’re watching, right?” I say, cutting through her murmuring.
She freezes, but recovers fast, straightening up and walking over with a plate of lemon cake in hand. She doesn’t look at me as she hands it over, then sits opposite on the other sofa.
She stays quiet and for a moment, I feel guilty. But she brought the dragon up first, that makes him fair game.
“Kacey,” I say gently, “I know you’re scared.
I know you’re worried about what all this means.
” I keep my voice soft as she fiddles with the tiny fork.
“But he hasn’t done anything wrong. Not like…
others. He hasn’t hurt you, hasn’t lied, hasn’t even tried to contact you.
If anything, this is his way of showing he cares, he’s just doing it from a distance. ”
I don’t know if it’s deliberate or a subconscious twitch, but she glances towards the front door.
I grit my jaw because I know exactly what she’s looking at. I don’t need to turn.
Mountains of bags and boxes sit by the door, overflowing into the hallway, all delivered over the last ten days.
Not one was for Kacey.
She slowly looks up, meeting my gaze, and I know exactly what she’s implying. No words are needed.
The gifts are their desperate attempt to reach me. Each one, a token of affection piled high. Their fucked up way of showing… something.
They even sent me a new phone. I still don’t know how they knew I’d smashed the first one, shattering it that very night.
But I haven’t opened a single package. I won’t. I don’t even know which one sent them, because I refuse to give them more than a few seconds of thought. That’s how long it took to grab them from the concierge and dump them on the ground.
They had food delivered too. Not just everyday groceries, but extravagant meals on ornate trays. Food I’ve never even seen before.
But I refuse to touch it. Not even the chocolate pastries, especially them. I send it back, every time, telling the staff to enjoy it instead.
If I wanted to eat, I’d make it myself. Kacey’s got enough tinned food to last months, if that’s how long it takes for the lockdown barrier to come down.
I’ll stay put until then. Until I can leave this district and go home—wherever that is.
Maybe not to my family, not after all their lies. Maybe somewhere else entirely? I don’t even know where, especially without paperwork to enter most districts. Maybe I’ll just keep walking...
“Yeah... you’re doing that face again.”
I take a breath, blink away whatever look she’s seeing. “What face?”
“It’s not the ‘scary face’ or the ‘angry face’.”
“Didn’t realise you’d categorised my faces.” I give her a tiny smile, just enough to show I’m teasing.
It gives her a bit more courage. She squares her shoulders. “It’s the face that scares me the most,” she murmurs. “Because it’s like... it’s like you’re not even here.”
I just stare. Expressionless, numb, achy, and so fucking tired.
“Well, I’m definitely here, Kace,” I sigh, picking up the plate, and forcing another fake smile. “Maybe I won’t be after this, though.”
For what feels like the first time in forever, Kacey actually laughs. Not a fake, dramatic sound, but a real, heartfelt laugh. If she’s willing to share that, I decide I’ll let myself feel just a sliver of that joy.
But that joy evaporates when I take a bite.
Is that… salt?
I try not to react, but then Kacey pops a piece into her mouth and chews. Her face is a caricature of everything I just tried to hide.
I at least swallow mine, Kacey just lets hers flop off her tongue, straight back onto the plate.
She stares down at it, whispering, “I think I used salt instead of sugar.”
I press my lips together, holding my laugh in as I nod. She looks at me, lips twitching. I think she’s about to laugh again and for a second, I get that buzz of adrenaline, the thrill of feeling something more—
There’s a soft hum, a vibration.
It’s Kacey’s phone. A phone that hasn’t rung in ten days.
Why is it ringing now?
She looks at me, concern and confusion mingling in her eyes. When it buzzes again, she jumps up and rushes to the kitchen, grabbing it from the counter.
Whoever it is, whoever’s name she sees, freezes her.
I start to rise from the sofa, as her gaze flicks to me, to the phone, to me again. Back and forth—visibly torn.
“Just answer it, Kace,” I say quietly, reassuringly.
From the way she’s reacting, I know it’s one of them. I just don’t know which.
She taps the screen then places it against her cheek, taking a breath before she says, “Hey.”
I can’t hear the voice on the other end, but somehow I know who it is. And just knowing… it makes the ache throb enough to knock me back against the sofa.
Kacey watches with concern, but her furrowed brows say she’s trying to concentrate.
“I’m fine,” she answers quickly, bluntly. Then there’s a pause, and she glances at me. “Erm… both fine. Thanks.”
Part of me wants to get closer, desperate to hear what he’s saying. It’s not because I want to hear his voice. That’s not it. I just want to know why Kacey suddenly looks so worried.
That’s all.
“I—I don’t know if I can,” she murmurs, wary. “Especially not on my own.”
“What?” I mouth.
But Kacey isn’t good at multitasking. She’s listening too intently, licking her lips nervously, and suddenly, irritation bubbles.
I forgot what irritation felt like. It’s a warm, prickling, sharp sensation that stings.
It wakes me up.
I walk over, pointing to the phone she’s clutching so tightly as she stares at me.
“Put it on speaker,” I mouth.
“Are you sure?” she whispers.
I nod, once. She hesitates, then sets the phone on the counter and taps speaker.
“Sorry, Ze—Lord Ezekial. Could you repeat that?”
When she says his name, my body goes still. I forgot what their names could do to me.
“I wouldn’t let you go alone, Kace. You know me better than that.”
His voice.
His fucking voice.
That soft gravel, the slight formal accent, the rasp.
I bite my tongue, trying to dull the stabbing sensation ricocheting through my chest.
“I won’t leave you alone with him. I could come with you or Sai, Julien, Kane. It doesn’t matter who.”
Hit after hit after hit.
Every name is a brutal reminder that they’re real. That the bond is real. That this pain—this tearing ache—is caused by them.
By their absence.
Kacey stares at me, terrified. However I look right now, it must be a face she hasn’t learnt to categorise yet.
Ezekial keeps speaking, clearly mistaking the silence for something else. “He’s struggling, Kace.” He pauses, lets it sink in. “I’m not telling you this to try and manipulate you, but he feels… He thinks you rejected him—”
“I never rejected him. I never said anything! I mean, except ‘no’.”
I stare at her, deadpan, because no is pretty close to a rejection. She must realise this too because she winces, hiding her face with her hands.
I hear Ezekial take a breath, and I can’t help but picture the way he’s doing it. And there it is again, that ache. Like fine needles pushing into my skin.
“It’s your choice, Kace. It’s always your choice.” He says it so… solemnly, like he’s already given up. And for some reason, it makes the ache even worse. “But maybe, you could give him a chance? Just to meet him. Talk to him. That’s it, that’s all he’s asking.”
I feel Kacey’s uncertainty, her worry, but I also feel her excitement. Over the last few days, she’s become quite the stalker, watching the dragon nonstop over the monitors.
“I—I really don’t think I can. Even just—just thinking about it…
I… I don’t know what it is.” She swallows.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She finally drops her hands, eyes filling with tears, chest rising and falling as the words tumble out.
“I know I should want this... I know he hasn’t done anything wrong but I—” Her words cut out, her erratic breathing making it too difficult.
That’s when I remember what a shit friend I’ve been.
“Kacey, we can—”
“I’ll come with you.”
When I interrupt Ezekial, there’s an incredibly still moment. A frozen pause. A silence any one of us could have broken. But somehow, I know, from just hearing my voice, that same painful ache is back for him too.
Kacey stares at me, wide-eyed, already starting to shake her head. She wants to say no, to tell me it’s not needed, but this is exactly what she needs. Someone on her side, someone she can rely on, someone choosing her.
“Are you sure, J?” she murmurs, voice quiet with uncertainty.
I give her a small smile. “Yeah, I’m sure, K.”
“One of us will have to come with you.” Ezekial finally speaks again, but there’s a grit to his voice now. “I can’t let you both be alone with him.”
I want to say I’m more than capable of protecting us both, that I—we don’t need him. Don’t need any of them.
But saying that would mean speaking to him, acknowledging him, and I’m not willing to do that. What I am willing to do is speak to Kace.
“Do you want him to come with us? He doesn’t have to.” I won’t let him say otherwise.
“It doesn’t have to be me,” he blurts, too quickly, like he’s desperate for the conversation to keep going.
But I’m not.
I’m ready for this to end. I’m ready to have the ache stop.
“What do you want, K?”
“You pick,” she mouths.
She wants me to choose, but I just want this conversation to end.
I won’t give Ezekial time to turn this into something noble, into some excuse about keeping us safe. So I think about my options, about the four men who betrayed my trust. And I make a choice.
A choice I know they’ll all regret giving me.