Page 119 of Ashen Souls

Fleeing Vesbridge had been the only correct choice. The quiet isolation of the coast steadily stripped away the panic.

When I answered Harper's calls, she unleashed a theatrical fury born of sheer panic. I promised I was safe, begged for space, and vowed to explain everything later.

An exasperated sigh and a reluctant agreement were the best I could get.

Days blurred into a quiet discipline of long walks and cold air, until Sunday arrived much sooner than I wanted it to.

I walked farther along the coast that morning, watching the tide roll in with methodical persistence. Out here, I could almost pretend the darkness haunting my bloodline didn't exist.

I wasn't healed. But the guilt of my own complicity had faded from a deafening scream into a manageable throb.

But the illusion wouldn't last. Today, I had to pack my suitcase and step back into my old routine. Back to classes. Back to Harper’s inevitable interrogation.

Back to Ethan.

I had avoided answering his message. The thought of meeting his eyes after the humiliation at the party and after ignoring his concern for days made my stomach twist with dread.

I hadn’t felt Daeren's presence all week, but hope was dangerous. The sigil remained faintly visible against my wrist, a reminder that escape and resolution were two very different things.

I wasn't just returning to school. I was returning to the board where his game was being played.

I had just stepped onto the dry sand when my phone vibrated. I fished it out, squinting through the harsh light.

Unknown Number: Ms. Hart, I have been reviewing the material you asked about. There are developments. The ring and the symbol engraved on it are older than I initially suspected. I would prefer to show you rather than attempt to explain through text. If you are able, come to Blackmere. – Mr. Caldwell, Blackmere Antiquities.

The name yanked my focus away from the ocean. In the chaos of the past week, I had completely forgotten about that antiquarian store.

I read the text twice.

Older than I initially suspected.

Any new information, any missing piece of this truth, was leverage I needed. My original plan shifted. Vesbridge could wait.

Tomorrow, I was going to Blackmere.

34

Ipacked the moment I returned from the beach.

Dinner that night was simple. Soup. Warm bread. A half-filled glass of house wine. I ate in silence, already mourning the quiet isolation of the coast.

Upstairs, I took one last shower, letting the hot water beat the tight knots from the base of my neck before slipping into bed.

I needed to leave at dawn. The drive to Blackmere would take hours, and I intended to make it back to Vesbridge before nightfall.

For the past week, slumber had meant complete oblivion. No shadows watching from the corners of the room. Just a merciful blackout.

That night, it changed.

Ethan’s office formed around me. The familiar bookshelves and the tall window overlooking the courtyard stood exactly where they belonged, but the air was heavy. Red silk pooled around me.

I sat on the edge of the desk. Ethan stood in front of me.

He didn’t smile. The safe, professional distance he always maintained was gone. His gaze dragged down my throat, stopping at my bare shoulder. He lifted a hand, pausing just before contact.

His knuckles brushed the skin beneath my jaw. A sharp ache flared in my stomach. He traced my collarbone, his thumb sliding up to press deep into the hollow of my throat. My chest heaved, straining the red silk.

He didn't stop. His palm flattened against my waist, fingers biting into my hip. His other hand gripped my knee. He stepped in, parting my legs and pinning me to the desk. The solid weight of his body pressed flush to mine.