Page 130 of Ashen Souls

The cold of the bridge rushed back. I had been standing in nothing but leggings and a hoodie, my teeth chattering and my chest hollowed out. And then, Ethan. I remembered the warmth of his coat as he took me into his arms, letting me cry into his chest, and the rough pad of his thumb wiping the tears from my cheeks.

But the memory of his warmth didn't bring comfort.

“Harper,” I whispered. “If Daeren could reach Thomas... if he could slaughter a man just because he feels like it... what's stopping him from doing the same to Ethan?”

Harper went still for a moment, the pieces clicking into place before she met my eyes. “Logic. Think about it. He didn't kill Thomas just for fun. He needed your rage as a conduit to reach him.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. What if one day he decides Ethan is a threat to him?” I argued, my voice shaking.

“He shouldn't have the reach anymore,” Harper countered. “You said it yourself, Aveline. His power in our world is tied to your devotion. It feeds on the bond. After everything he did to you, to Thomas, after everything we read in that journal today... your feelings for him aren't exactly growing, are they?”

I stared at her, forcing my racing pulse to slow down.

“You tore the ring off and walked away,” Harper reminded me. “If anything, you're starving that connection right now. His reach should be degrading.”

I closed my eyes, letting her words anchor me.

“Anyway,” Harper continued. “I told Ethan I’d make sure you were okay. I tried to politely dismiss him so he wouldn't freeze to death. But he didn't leave, Aveline. He asked me for your number.”

The memory of the message I had not answered suddenly made perfect sense.

Just let me know you're safe. E.

It had seemed harmless at the time. Clean and careful. It had not demanded anything from me. But now I knew the truth. He had stood outside my apartment in the dark and cold just to make sure I survived the night.

“He didn’t mention you by name in class today,” Harper went on. “But when someone asked a mundane question about the essay, he let a heavy beat of silence stretch. Then he looked straight at the back row and said, ‘If anyone needs clarification, my office hours remain open.’”

Her gaze sharpened. “Which he does not usually emphasize.”

The journal lay closed between us, filled with centuries and curses, but my thoughts had shifted elsewhere.

Tomorrow.

There would be another lecture. Another chance to walk into that hall and meet his eyes instead of leaving him to search for me in my absence.

Harper studied me, a slow smile creeping across her face. “Oh. You’re thinking about him.”

“I’m thinking about class,” I said.

“You are thinking about him.”

I did not deny it this time.

“He looked sad, Aveline,” she said again, softer this time.

Daeren was never sad. He had been furious, amused, wounded, calculating, but never quietly disappointed.

“I embarrassed myself at that party,” I said after a moment, staring at the empty glass in my hands. “He saw me unravel. I ignored his message. I vanished.”

“And yet,” Harper replied, “he kept looking at your empty seat. He waited outside your apartment.”

The idea of facing him felt utterly different from facing Daeren. There was no prophecy, no spell forcing my soul toward Ethan.

Just choice.

And somehow, that made it infinitely more dangerous.

“There’s another lecture tomorrow. You can talk to him then. In daylight. In a public building with exits. Without magical rings.”