Page 81 of Ashen Souls

I laughed, and eventually, the rhythm of the room dragged us out into the crowd.

I let the liquor and the beat hollow out my head. I moved until my hair stuck to the back of my sweaty neck, until the flashing lights blurred into a solid smear of color, until my legs ached more than my brain did.

The floor literally shook beneath my feet. Someone slammed into my shoulder, shouted an apology that was drowned out by the speakers, and thrust a fresh drink into my hand.

For an hour, maybe two, I was completely empty. Just a tired, drunk girl sweating out a really bad week.

And then the illusion snapped.

Ethan Hale stood just inside the doorway of the common room.

The sight of my mythology professor next to a sticky tower of plastic cups was so absurd it instantly sobered me up by about twenty percent.

“Harper,” I said, grabbing her arm. “Professor Hale is here.”

She blinked, squinting through the strobe lights. “Oh. Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” I muttered. “Why is he here?”

“Is he… allowed to be here?” she asked. “Because this feels ethically complicated. And aesthetically rude.”

Ethan hadn’t moved further into the room. He stood there motionless, in the middle of the neon chaos. And he had already noticed me. Of course he had. There was no polite academic nod this time. His eyes were locked dead on me, cutting through the strobing lights and the crowd.

I stared back at him, suddenly hyper-aware of how short my dress was and how much vodka I’d just consumed.

“That’s… weird, right?” I said. “He’s just standing there.”

Harper tilted her head. “He looks like a man who accidentally walked into the wrong myth.”

“What do I do?” I asked.

She grinned. “You do nothing. Let him panic.”

“I don’t want him to panic.”

“That’s adorable. You absolutely do.”

Ethan finally moved. He had to politely but firmly push his way past a group of guys doing tequila shots, looking too sober and expensive for this room.

By the time he reached us, I was gripping my plastic cup like a lifeline.

“Aveline.” He leaned in just enough to be heard over the noise. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“It’s a dorm party. I’m a student. This is my natural habitat,” I pointed out. The alcohol was making me bolder than usual, and I tilted my head, looking up at him. “The real question is, what are you doing here?”

Ethan’s eyes flicked briefly to Harper, then back to me. “Could I… speak with you for a minute?”

I hesitated. Stepping away with him meant turning my brain back on, and I really didn't want to.

Harper raised both hands, backing away. “I’m going to get another drink. Or start a fight. Either way, take your time.”

“Harper…”

She was already gone, absorbed by the crowd.

I turned back to Ethan. “Sure.”

He nodded, gesturing toward a less packed corner of the room. We moved a few steps aside, pressing close enough to the wall that the music dulled.