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The wrought-iron gates of Nevermore loomed ahead, their curling blackwork catching the afternoon light like spider silk spun in steel. For most, the gates were imposing. For Edrisse Leveret, they felt like am embrace. She straightened her shoulders, breathing in the crisp autumn air, and smiled faintly.

Home.

Beside her, Vittorie wrestled with a suitcase that looked nearly as heavy as she was. At thirteen, all elbows and determination, she was eager to prove she didn't need her older sister's help. The suitcase, however, disagreed.

Eddi's lips quirked, "You'll pull your arm out of its socket before you even make it to the courtyard."

With a flick of wrist, the suitcase lifted clean from the ground. Brass hinges snapped straight, the wobbling wheels righted themselves, and the handle extended to the perfect height. The case rolled obediently forward at Vittorie's side, like it had finally remembered its purpose.

Vittorie's eyes rolled, "Show off."

"Efficient," Eddi corrected smoothly. "You'll learn. Why suffer when you've got a DaVinci in the family?"

Eddi's gift was never loud. She didn't summon lightning or vanish into thin air like some of her friends; she coaxed. Machines responded to her as if they'd been waiting for her touch. A buckle that refused to fasten, a lock that wouldn't catch, a pen that sputtered- one nudge from her and they fell into line. It was part brilliance, part instinct, and part sheer elegance.

Even now, as they crossed into the courtyard, Eddi walked with that same grace, her brown hair catching the light in soft waves, the occasional strand of gold, glinting in the already fading autumnal light. Her hazel eyes- green at the edges, amber at the centre- swept across the familiar spires and windows of Nevermore. She didn't stumble over cobblestones or trip under the weight of her own bags. A subtle adjustment here, a mechanical tug there, and everything about her appeared deliberate, untouchable.

Students turned to greet her as she passed: a nod here, a grin there, a shouted, "Leveret! Back again to terrorise the curve?" from across the green. She returned their greetings easily, her smile wry, her wit sharper than the autumn chill.

Vittorie hovered close, her wide eyes darting from one gothic tower to the next. Eddi leaned down just enough to murmur, "Don't worry. Nevermore looks like it wants to bite, but it's all bark. You'll be fine. You've got me."

The words tasted both comforting and guilty. For every step she took forward with Vittorie, there was the tug of someone missing: Jago, left behind under their father's roof. The scar hidden beneath her sleeve twinged faintly, a reminder etched in lightning across her skin. She ignored it, like always. Vittorie didn't need to see her flinch.

"Now," Eddi said briskly, straightening again. "Let's get you settled before Caliban Hall starts a betting pool on how many trunks it takes to bury you,"

Vittorie laughed, the sound light and nervous, and together they crossed the courtyard- the older sister perfectly at home, the younger just beginning her story.

However, first Eddi wanted to drop her own things off in Caliban Hall, she'd left most of her valuable possessions here over the summer anyway, so wanted to offload her few cases, before taking Vittorie to Ophelia Hall.

The stairwell up to Caliban Hall smelled faintly of smoke and floor polish- like it always did when the boys came back from break and immediately forgot the rules about "no indoor fire tricks." Eddi climbed the final steps two at a time, Vittorie trailing close behind, her suitcase still rolling at her side like an obedient pet.

The attic door burst open before she could reach the handle.

"Leveret!" Raff Firethorn grinned from ear to ear, a streak of soot already smudged across his cheek. His eyes glinted a molten orange, the faint shimmer that always gave away his pyro spark. He threw his arms wide. "Look who couldn't stay away!"

"What have I told you about going in my room, if Coach Vlad finds out, I let you boys have a key, I'll be moved...again," Eddi shot back, though her lips curved into a smile, "You smell like charcoal."

"That's called masculine cologne, thank you very much."

Behind him, three more familiar figures jostled into the hallway: Lenny Sterling, tall and broad-shouldered even for a werewolf; Austin Gold, already half-disappearing around the edges as though he couldn't be bothered to stay visible for introductions; and Oliver Squabs, whose feathered hair looked perpetually windswept, as if he'd just landed from flight.

"About time," Lenny rumbled, clapping Eddi on the shoulder with enough force to stagger most people. She barely shifted under the weight. "We were starting to place bets, you’d met some gruesome end under a pile of books."

"Don't listen to him," Oliver cut in, his grin quick and bright. "We all know she’s come back to make sure we all graduate in the same year. Thursday Library Club still on?"

"Excuse me-" Austin's voice floated from somewhere slightly to the left, though his outline was blurry, "She's been pining for her textbooks, all summer, not you, you fool."

Eddi lifted her chin with mock dignity. "It's true. I've been counting the hours until I could bask in the glory of being the only reason you lot will ever graduate Nevermore."

The boys groaned in chorus, and Raff clutched his chest like she'd shot him. "You wound us. Here we were thinking you'd missed our charming company."

"Oh, I did," Her hazel eyes danced. "Missed beating you lot at everything. We all know you need my help with the Blood Cup this season what with Rohaus graduating last year."

Raff lit a flame in his palm just to roll his eyes through it. "You're obsessed, Leveret. It's unhealthy."

"Spoken like a man who can't keep hold of the ball for more than thirty seconds," she said sweetly.

The laughter that followed filled the narrow attic hall, loud and easy, like they hadn't been apart for months. Vittorie lingered at the edge of the group, wide-eyed, watching as her sister sparred effortlessly with four boys twice her size in presence. They treated her like one of their own, and Eddi gave as good as she got- no simpering, no fawning, just sharp quips and sharper grins.

Eventually, Oliver noticed the younger girl hovering and dipped into a gallant bow, wings twitching faintly from his shoulders. "And who might this be?"

"Vittorie." Eddi's voice softened as she nudged her sister forward. "First year. Ophelia Hall."

"Another Leveret?" Raff's grin widened. "God save us all. Lets see if she can last longer than you did, Eds."

"She's not yours to corrupt," Eddi said firmly, though her eyes were amused. "I'll get her settled in Ophelia before you lot scare her off with your bad habits."

"Bad habits?" Austin asked faintly, his shape flickering in and out, "We're role models."

"You're menaces," Eddi corrected.

And just like that, it was like she'd never left- surrounded by laughter, teasing, and the warmth of a family she'd chosen, rather than the one she'd been bound to by blood and vow.

Still, when Vittorie's hand brushed hers, Eddi squeezed back tightly. Her little sister's presence was a relief, yes- but also a reminder of who was still missing, trapped back in their father's house.

By the time Eddi finally wrangled the boys out of her attic room, Vittorie had collapsed on the bed in a fit of giggles. Raff had been the last to leave, tossing a mock salute over his shoulder as Eddi shoved him out the door.

"Get yourselves cleaned up for the Hall dinner," she called after them, hand on the doorframe like a general dismissing her troops. "And Raff- try not to set your tie on fire this year. Tradition's overrated."

Their laughter echoed down the stairwell. When silence finally settled, Vittorie glanced at her sister's lone trunk by the bed and sighed. "Not much to drop off, huh?"

Eddi shrugged, "I travel light."

"Smart," Vittorie nodded, gazing around her sister's other life, as she unpacked her few things.

The walls decorated in a mixture of photos of herself, and their little brother Jago, as well as, the gaggle of boys who had just left. Vittorie's focus was on one particular picture, her sister at the centre, she was so beautiful, and either side of her were boys. All of them dressed in green and gold sports kit, which was splattered with mud and blood from a clearly vicious Bloodrush match. Eddi was holding a large golden cup, and the boys were cheering either side. Vittorie could only hope to be as bold and brave.

"C'mon," Eddi broke her train of thought, not even realising her sister was in such a daze, "Let's get you to Ophelia before they start serving dinner without us."

They crossed the courtyard as the last orange slant of daylight caught the towers. Nevermore seemed sharper in the autumn dusk, its spires cutting against the sky like ink strokes. Vittorie trotted beside her, suitcase bumping obediently behind, eyes flicking nervously toward the looming Hall they were headed for.

"Eddi?"

"Mm?"

"Why...why aren't you in Ophelia Hall? Or Puck?" Vittorie asked quietly, "Aren't those the girls' dorms?"

Eddi's smile twitched. "Sharp eye. You'd have figured it out eventually."

"So?"

"So..." she drew the word out, smirking as though weighing how much to reveal. "Let's just say your big sister made quite the impression in her first year. Isadora Thistle thought she could push me around. Magda Lennard thought she could do worse. It got...messy. Bloody, if you want the truth."

Vittorie's eyes went wide. "Bloody?"

"Don't look so scandalised." Eddi nudged her shoulder with mock playfulness. "I won, didn't I? And since I'm far too clever and talented to expel, they shoved me into Caliban Hall's attic instead. Problem solved."

The false confidence in her tone didn't quite reach her chest. For a moment she thought of the empty bed in her attic room- the quiet she filled with books, with blueprints, with the hum of cogs and clockwork when she couldn't sleep. Lonely wasn't a word she let herself use, not even in her own head.

Vittorie must've caught the flicker in her expression, because she asked softly, "Don't you get lonely? Having no roommate?"

Eddi looked at her little sister then, all wide eyes and nervous bravery. She smoothed her expression into a grin. "I've got Raff, Lenny, Austin and Oliver. They're more than friends- they're family. And now you've got them too. Trust me, they'll watch out for you like a pack of big brothers. Annoying big brothers, but loyal ones."

Vittorie hesitated. "What if I get stuck with a roommate who doesn't like me?"

Eddi snorted. "Then they're an idiot. And you know what we do with idiots?"

"...What?"

"We let them stew in their own misery while we shine so bright they can't help but get jealous." She bumped Vittorie's arm with her own, softer this time. "Anyone would be lucky to room with you, Tori. Don't forget that."

Ophelia Hall smelled faintly of lavender and rose, softer than Caliban's smoky chaos. The long corridor echoed with the voices of girls unpacking trunks and claiming beds, laughter spilling out from doorways. Eddi walked Vittorie through the maze until they reached the last door on the left.

By the time they reached the heavy oak doors of Ophelia Hall, Vittorie's step had grown a little steadier. Eddi squeezed her hand once, hard, then let go.

"Ready?"

Vittorie nodded, though her grip on the suitcase handle tightened.

Eddi pushed open the doors, her hazel eyes glinting. "Welcome home, little sis."

The moment she pushed it open, she stopped short.

Because sitting in the middle of the room- slouched in a chair like it had wronged him- was Isaac Night.

He looked exactly as Eddi remembered: pale skin catching the low light, black hair combed with meticulous precision, dark eyes sharp enough to cut glass. There was something unnervingly still about him, like a clock wound too tight. He glanced up at her entrance gaze flicking once over Vittorie before landing squarely on her.

"Wrong hall, Leveret," he said, voice cool as frost, "Didn't think you were allowed back here."

Eddi arched a brow, letting a sly smile tug her lips. "Bold of you to call me lost while sitting in the girls' dorm. Bit creepy, don't you think?"

Before he could retort, the closest door creaked open. A small figure emerged, clutching a half-folded stack of uniforms to her chest.

“And who’s this?” Eddi remarked, the family resemblance was obvious, but playing games with Isaac was far more entertaining.

The young girl looked like a deer caught in headlights, she froze to the spot as her eyes rapidly twitched from Isaac to the two girls invading her room.

"Francoise?" Vittorie blinked. “Are you Francoise? Ms. Rivera said my new roommate was called Francoise?”

The girl nodded quickly. She was slight, with mousy brown hair and a nervous way of glancing between them all, as though waiting to be reprimanded. But when her eyes landed on Eddi once again, they widened in awe.

"Edrisse Leveret," she whispered, almost reverent.

Eddi's brows shot up. "You know me?"

"She knows of you," Isaac cut in, his tone dry. "Apparently, celebrity status extends even to my own private home."

Francoise ducked her head, cheeks pink. "Isaac mentioned you."

That earned her brother's sharp look, whilst Eddi's lips twisted into a smug grin. "Did he now?"

Isaac's jaw tightened. "Only in reference to Stonehearst’s midterm. When I beat you."

Eddi's smirk only sharpened, a wolf baring its teeth. "Ah, right. The test I had remarked- by the way- I came out a point higher. But by all means, keep telling yourself, whatever will stop your tin heart rusting."

For a mechanical heartbeat, the air between them crackled- sharp, electric, like the promise of a storm. Francoise shifted nervously, and Vittorie's eyes darted between them as though she'd stumbled into a duel.

Eddi smoothed her expression into something sweet and false. "As fun as this is, Night, maybe we should leave our sisters to get acquainted before we're late to dinner. Wouldn't want my fan club to think I’d got lost."

Isaac's lips curved, but it wasn't a smile. "Lead the way."

Eddi tilted her chin high, brushing past him all the grace she could muster. Vittorie gave her a small, grateful smile before turning to Francoise, who beamed shyly back.

Behind them, Isaac's footsteps fell into rhythm with hers. The rivalry had begun again- sharp, cold, inevitable.

The walk back from Ophelia Hall was silent. Eddi didn't bother glancing at Isaac, and he offered her nothing more than the occasional sound of his boots striking stone. Their smiles- thin, plastered things for the sake of their sisters- had evaporated the second Ophelia's door closed behind them. By the time they reached the courtyard, their truce had already dissolved into ice.

They split without a word at Caliban Hall's stairwell, Isaac's sharp silhouette swallowed by the shadows of the boys' floor while Eddi climbed to her attic.

Her trunk was waiting at the foot of the bed. She opened it carefully, pulling out the pressed folds of her uniform. Nevermore purple gleamed in the lamplight, the jacket's edges stiff with starch, the silver embroidery catching against her fingers.

Sliding into it felt like donning armour. The fabric tightens her spine, squared her shoulders, and set her chin high. It wasn't just a uniform. It was a declaration: I belong here. I earned this.

But the pride was always tempered. At her wrist, the cuff threatened to slide back as she adjusted the sleeve. She tugged it sharply into place, ensuring the white lightning-shaped scar along her forearm stayed hidden. Even now, years later, it burned faintly at the memory of her father's vow, a phantom pain she never entirely escaped.

Not tonight, she told herself. Not here.

A knock rattled the attic door before the thought could linger.

"Oi, Leveret!" Raff's voice carried easily through the wood. "You planning to make an entrance or what?"

"She's probably shining her prefect badge," Oliver added in his sing-song tone.

"Ignore them," Lenny's deep voice chimed in. "She's got more important things to do than listen to idiots."

"Like pretending she's not nervous," Austin drawled faintly from somewhere- likely invisible, as usual.

Eddi rolled her eyes, smoothing down her jacket once more. Then she swung the door open, one brow arched in perfect challenge.

"Gentlemen," she said, voice honey-sweet and razor-sharp, "your escort has arrived."

The four of them groaned in mock despair, though Raff was quick to offer her his arm with a dramatic bow.

Together, they spilled into the stairwell, rowdy and laughing, their noise filling the hall like firelight. For a moment, the scar under her sleeve was forgotten.

The Caliban Hall crowd filed out together, a storm of noise and swagger. Raff's voice carried down the corridor, crude jokes tumbling out between the bursts of laughter from Oliver and the rumbling chuckles of Lenny. Austin drifted in and out of visibility, adding snide commentary from thin air.

Eddi walked at the centre of them all, sharp enough to slice through the chaos with a single remark but polished enough to rise above it. She rolled her eyes when Raff mimed fainting over Oliver's latest story, but when he dared her to top it, she landed a quip so swift that the boys howled in delight.

What she didn't notice was Isaac Night, walking just behind with his usual dark silence. His gaze lingered on her a moment too long, eyes full of disdain. Where she thrived on the attention of the group, he seemed only more irritated by it.

"Addams!" Raff called suddenly, spotting the familiar mop of dark curls weaving into their pack. Gomez Addams grinned easily, falling into step with the rest of the Caliban boys.

"Don't tell me you're still hanging out with Night," Oliver teased, "Talk about dead weight."

Lenny barked a laugh, "Does he even talk to you, Addams, or do you just sit in silence and brood together?"

Gomez chuckled, not particularly bothered by the ribbing. Isaac, however, didn't even flinch- his expression unreadable, his silence almost daring them to try harder. Eddi didn't join the teasing, but she didn't stop it either. He invited it, she told herself. He lived for these contests, for measuring himself against her. Why should she step in?

By the time they entered the dinner hall, the din of Caliban Hall drowned out the other dorms entirely. Long tables stretched beneath banners- Ophelia's silver flower, Puck's yellow satyr playing its trumpets, Thisbie's golden lion, and Caliban's glowing moon. Glass lanterns hung midair, flames swaying to the faint hum of enchantments.

Eddi slid into her place halfway down the Caliban table. Across the aisle, she spotted Vittorie waving shyly from the Ophelia bench, Francoise pressed close at her side. Relief flickered through her chest- her sister already had someone to cling to. She returned the wave with a warm smile before turning back to the rowdiness at hand.

It didn't take long for the boys to make trouble.

Eddi flicked her fingers, drawing a platter of roasted chicken down the table without bothering to stand. It slid neatly into place in front of her, earning a cheer from Raff. He, of course, immediately followed up by launching a fireball across the table to light the hair of a wide-eyed Thisbie first year. The boy yelped, patting frantically at the singed ends while the Caliban crew roared with laughter.

"Subtle as always," Eddi murmured, though her smirk betrayed her amusement.

Oliver clapped Raff on the back. "Best trick yet."

Austin had vanished entirely. Moments later, a shriek of laughter burst from the teachers' table as gravy sloshed down into Professor Orloff's water tank, coating his slimy skin in greasy brown streaks. The hall erupted.

All except Isaac.

He sat stiff-backed at the end of the table, jaw tight, every explosion of laughter seeming to needle deeper under his skin. His eyes flicked toward Eddi- never at the boys, never at their antics- always at her, as though she were personally responsible for the circus.

Eddi only laughed louder, leaning back with that unshakable elegance. If her grace was armour, tonight it gleamed brighter than ever.

"Alright, Leveret," Gomez said as the roasted chicken finally made it down the table, "Be honest- what are my chances this year?"

Eddi arched a brow, knife slicing through meat with effortless precision, "Chances at what, Addams? Sleeping with me? Big fat zero, although think Frump would be a little upset, at just the suggestion."

The boys erupted into a fits of schoolboy giggles, whilst Eddi just sipped her drink, with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Gomez's expression flickered with something dark for a second, before he grinned, "Bloodrush. Don't tell me you're not recruiting."

Instead of answering, Eddi tilted her head toward Lenny, who was already busy tearing into his plate. "Ask your soon-to-be captain. He's the one with the finally say."

Lenny leaned back, puffing out his chest just enough to make the boys groan at his smugness. "Depends." he said, voice rough with a laugh, "How fast can you drop the doom-and-gloom baggage? You'll never keep up with us if you're dragging Night around."

The table erupted. Even Raff nearly spat fire with how hard he laughed. Eddi shook her head but couldn't hide her smile.

It was then Isaac finally spoke. His voice cut through the laughter like a knife against glass. "Bloodrush," he said flatly. "Is nothing but sanctioned brawling. Pointless. Brute entertainment for people who can't think of better uses for their time."

The Caliban table went quiet in increments, laughter stuttering out until only the scrape of knives remained. Eddi lifted her gaze slowly, her smile sharpened to something dangerous.

"Funny," she said sweetly, "I didn't realise it was fear talking. But it makes sense. You couldn't stomach losing to me in one more thing."

A flicker- just a flicker- passed over Isaac's expression. The corner of his jaw tightened. He set down his fork with deliberate care.

"Losing implies the game matters," he replied coolly. "It doesn't. Not when real intellect decides futures."

"Ah," Eddi leaned forward, chin resting lightly in her hand, hazel eyes glittering. "So we're back to academics, then? Careful, Night, or I'll have to remind you whose essay got remarked last term. In front of a larger crowd."

The table buzzed with suppressed laughter, everyone waiting for the next blow. Isaac's lips thinned, and Eddi allowed herself one last victorious smile before she turned back to her plate, dismissing him as if he weren't worth the effort.

But the silence between them wasn't gone- it hummed like a taut string, threatening to snap at any moment.

The tension at the Caliban table buzzed in the air long after Eddi turned her attention back to her plate. The boys picked their laughter back up again in spurts, Raff nudging her shoulder and whispering that she'd "landed the knockout blow." Eddi only smirked faintly more concerned with catching Vittorie's smile across the aisle.

A sharp chime rang out above the clatter of cutler. Silver bells suspended from the rafters gave one clear note, and the dinner hall fell into a hush. At the head table, Principal Gaulish rose.

He was as formidable as ever- tall, gaunt, with a head of hair so white it gleamed silver beneath the candlelight. His black robes caught the flicker of flames, trimmed in deep violet embroidery that marked his office. His gaze swept the hall like a blade across whetstone, silencing even the last whispers from the Puck bench.

"Students of Nevermore," he began, voice resonant, "welcome to another year."

A low cheer rippled through the hall. Eddi clapped politely, the boys louder, Raff punctuating the applause with a crackle of sparks at his fingertips.

"As ever," Gaulish, unbothered, "this year promise to test your minds, your bodies, and your willpower. Nevermore thrives when all three are sharpened to a point. Last year, our halls proved themselves worthy of note- Ophelia, in their victory at the Poe Cup." A swell of applause rose from the Ophelia table, Isadora Thistle leading the cheers with a smug flick of her hair.

"And Caliban Hall," Gaulish's lips curved just slightly, "in their triumph at the Blood Cup."

Raff whooped loud enough to make half the table jump. Lenny pounded his first against the wood, Oliver whistled, and Eddi lifted her chin with a smile she let herself enjoy. Isaac did not clap.

"This year," Gaulish said firmly, "let us strive for glory in both fields. Academic, and athletic. The Poe Cup and the Blood Cup will begin at Halloween. Until then- train well, study harder, and remember that mediocrity has no home within these walls."

The hall erupted into applause again, the thunder of it echoing high into the rafters. When it quieted, Gaulish lifted a hand. "A word, too, for our faculty. Some faces are familiar." He gestured to the end of the head table, where Coach Vlad inclined his head stiffly. "Coach Vlad, who has kept our Bloodrush and fencing program both feared and admired across the outcast world."

The Caliban table cheered again, Lenny practically standing on his bench, howling.

"Mr. Fitts, of Mathematics. Mr. Tudor-Pole, also of Mathematics- though," Gaulish allowed himself the faintest smirk, "I expect he will continue to argue the superiority over algebra." A ripple of laughter moved through the room as the two teachers gave identical stiff nods, studiously ignoring one another.

"Professor Stonehearst, guiding you through Advanced Physics and Experimental Chemistry." The tall, hawk-nosed man gave a curt wave.

"And, of course, Professor Orloff, Bioengineering and Genetics."

The fish-bellied man in his tank-like suit glared down the hall, gravy still slick against his glass dome. Austin's suppressed snicker made the Caliban boys nearly choke on their dessert.

Gaulish's gaze flicked toward them- sharp, warming, but not entirely surprised. Then he clasped his hands together. "We also welcome new staff to our ranks, who you will come to know in the days ahead. Treat them with respect, as they deserve. That is all. Eat, drink, and be prepared- for tomorrow begins the work that will define you."

He sat, and with a wave of his hand, the silver bells chimed again. The hum of conversation slowly returned, though a little more subdued.

Eddi finished her meal, laughing at one of Oliver's dramatic retellings of summer escapades, but he mind drifted elsewhere. Vittorie looked happy, settled. That was a relief. Jago was far away, and that was a weight she forced down.

And Isaac Night- across from her, silent, his expression unreadable, his disdain sharp as a blade- was already looking at her as if this year's battles had already begun.

After dinner, the students of Caliban Hall were herded back into their common room- a cavernous, dimly lit space lined with heavy wooden beams and trophies from Bloodrush victories past. The air carried the scent of smoke and polish, half-roughed edges softened by the warmth of a roaring fire.

Most of the boys had traded their uniforms for loose t-shirts and flannel sleep trousers, bare feet dragging against the rug. They sprawled across couches and floor cushions with the ease of those who had lived like brothers for years. Eddi, although wearing slightly more sophisticated black satin pyjamas, had opted to lazy across Raff and Lenny's laps, not thinking twice, as she wrapped her arm around Lenny's neck to keep herself steady as the boys continued to be rambunctious.

Coach Vlad stood at the front, still stiff and square-shouldered even in his rumpled black shirt, arms folded across his broad chest. His moustache twitched as he surveyed the room, and when he spoke, his voice carried the weight of years of common.

"First years, listen. Older years, you'll hear this again until you can recite it in your sleep. Rules are simple. Lights out by midnight. Keep your rooms tidy- no mothers here to do it for you. Get on with your roommate, or you'll make my life difficult, and trust me when I say I'll return the favour. No girls in the boys' rooms. Clear?"

A mutter of agreement spread through the group, some nodding dutifully, others barely pretending to care.

"And," Vlad's gaze swept toward the staircase, "for the benefit of you newer faces- no boy are to set foot in the attic. That is Leveret's private quarters. If you want her to stay in Caliban Hall- and you do, for the sake of winning the Blood cup again this year, and the house Bataloriate- then that rule will be respected. Understood?"

The room gave another murmur of assent. Raff threw Eddi a grin from over Lenny's shoulder. She only rolled her eyes, pulling her legs from his lap, tucking herself completely on the bigger wolf's lap.

"Good." Vlad nodded once, briskly. "Then that's all. Enjoy your evening. Tomorrow, the real work begins."

He left the room, and the moment the door clicked shut, the atmosphere shifted. The fire crackled, the boys stretched out, voices rising again in the familiar racket of teasing and banter.

Eddi was swift to move from Lenny's lap, claiming her usual spot on the broad armchair, legs draped over one arm as Raff and Oliver bickered on the rug below. Lenny leaned against the back of her chair like a wall of muscle, while Austin phased in and out of sight with an infuriating grin.

It didn't take long before Raff leaned over with a wicked gleam in his eyes and spoke loudly, with very little filter as he usually does, "So no midnight visits for you and me this term my love." He fluttered his eyelashes at Eddi, "I guess you could always give me a handjob from across the hall, put that DaVinci to some actual good use, I'll leave my door open for you."

The boys burst into laughter, Lenny doubling over, Olivier nearly choking on his own laughter.

Eddi didn't so much as flinch. She tilted her head, lips twitching into a grin, and with a flick of her fingers, the cushions beneath Raff shot upward, knocking him sprawling onto the floor. When he landed he was on all fours at Eddi's feet, she leant forward in the chair, grasping the bewildered boy by the chin with her slender and delicate fingers.

"That's better," Eddi smirked, stroking Raff's hair, "putting you in your place seems like a wiser use of my power, don't ya think, sparky?"

The eruption of laughter doubled, Raff swearing loudly as he scrambled back up.

"Should've known better," Oliver crowed, "She's quicker than you'll ever be."

"You're all idiots," Eddi said, though the warmth of her tone made it clear she didn't mean it. Leaning forward again, so she cupped Raff's warming blushing face, and pecked his cheek. His ragged breaths of embarrassment evening, as he gave his friend a shy smile.

The boys volleyed back with more jokes, sprawled in their usual chaos. It was the rhythm of years of friendship, an ease born of comfort and trust. Eddi laughed with them, sharper in wit but never cutting, her elegance intact even as she matched them joke for joke.

Isaac sat at the far edge of the common room, half in shadow. He had shed his uniform jacket, sleeves rolled to reveal precise, mechanical movements in the tendons of his wrist as he adjusted notes in a book. He didn't speak, didn't join in, but his eyes flicked toward them all the same.

Toward her.

The way she belonged among them, their laughter orbiting her like fire sound a star, their boyish immaturity never denting the grace she carried so easily. It was foreign to him, irritating in its warmth.

But beneath the disdain, something sharper twisted. Something he would not name.

The first morning of term broke with the usual chaos of Caliban Hall.

Eddi moved with the boys as if they were one living thing- shouts, laughter, elbows jostling, Oliver's wings brushing someone's face, Austin vanishing and reappearing whenever it suited him. It was noisy, messy, and entirely theirs.

"Move it, Gold," Raff barked, shoving at Austin's shoulder as he blinked back into existence in the middle of the corridor.

"Careful," Austin smirked, "or I'll vanish your eyebrows next."

"You'd have to get close enough first." Raff flexed his fingers, sparks dancing between them, "One wrong move and- poof."

"Fire hazard," Oliver chimed in with a grin, snapping his wings open just enough to make both boys stumble. "Do us all a favour, Raff, and set yourself on fire. Would save the rest of us the trouble.'

Lenny barked a laugh, tossing his bag over his shoulder. "You know what a little sadistic fuck he is. He'd enjoy it too much."

Eddi rolled her eyes, though her lips curved as she tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear. "If you idiots could stop trying to kill each other before first bell, that would be great."

"Where's the fun in that?" Raff shot back, grinning.

"You mean you don't enjoy waking up every day to this symphony of testosterone?" Oliver asked innocently.

Eddi smirked. "Oh, I live for it. Truly. It's the only reason I didn't request a transfer."

The boys groaned in unison, tossing playful insults her way and she dodged each one like a queen among jesters, quick enough to sting, never cruel enough to wound.

At the stairwell, the pack split. Raff and Lenny peeled off toward Ms. Garth's classroom, already bickering over who'd be the worse ambassador to the normie world.

"Bet Garth makes Raff sit in the front again," Lenny called.

"You know it’s ‘cus she fancies me," Raff shot back, "You know she can't resist my charisma and smoking hot body."

"Charisma?" Eddi called over her shoulder. "Tell that to the last three normie girls who picked that motley crew of faceless kids over you, to take them to the Rave'n'."

The group howled.

“You spiteful bitch.” Raff squealed, clutching his chest in mock injury before disappearing down the corridor.

Eddi, Oliver, and Austin carried on toward Experimental Chemistry, voices overlapping until they reached the high, arched doors of Stonehearst's domain. The classroom smelled of copper and ozone, as if every failed experiment still lingered in the air. Rows of polished benches gleamed under the gaslight, each fitted with delicate instruments and vials that hummed faintly with enchantment.

"Try not to blow us up, Squabs," Austin muttered, sliding into a seat beside Eddi.

Oliver grinned, his feathers ruffling. "No promises. You're the one who keeps distracting me."

"Distracting you? You mean saving your life."

"Saving me would imply I was in danger."

"You're always in danger when you're near a flame."

"Boys." Eddi said sweetly, tugging her sleeve down to make sure it covered her scar. "Shut the fuck up, before I regret sitting between you, and make you my first test subjects when something explodes."

They quietened, but only a little.

The doors creaked open again, and two more figures stepped inside. Gomez Addams, grinning like he had a secret to share, and Isaac Night, his presence sharp enough to make the air shift. When Gomez exuded warmth, Isaac radiated cool disdain. He didn't look at Eddi as he passed- yet somehow she felt the weight of his gaze all the same.

Professor Stonehearst swept in moments later, all crisp robes and hawk-like precision. His eyes scanned the room like a man searching for weaknesses.

"Welcome back," he said, voice clipped. "As you all know, this is not a class for faint hearts or dull minds. If any of you have gone soft over the summer months, I suggest you leave now."

No one moved.

"Good," he said, "Today, we test retention. Pair work. I want a functioning compound stabiliser by the end of the lesson. Explosions will cost you Hall points. Fatalities will be an inconvenience for me. Choose your partners."

Eddi leaned back, smirking at Oliver and Austin. "Place your bets now- who's blowing us up first?"

Oliver grinned. "Austin. He panics under pressure."

Austin scoffed. "Please. I vanish before anything can explode."

"You vanish too soon and I'll have your seat," Oliver shot back.

Eddi laughed softly, but her gaze flicked toward the front of the room, where Isaac was already setting out tools with a precision that was almost surgical. His jaw tightened, as though the mere sound of laughter irritated him.

And so the first day began- with sparks on one side of the room, shadows on the other, and the certainty that before long, the two would collide.

Professor Stonehearst clicked his fingers, asking for Isaac's assistance, which he humbly obliged, like a dog, Eddi thought. Isaac waved his hand and a series of trays clattered onto the benches, each lined with metals, powders, and vials of iridescent liquid.

"The stabiliser is a test of balance," he barked, "Too little heat, the reaction collapses. Too much, and it ignites. By the end of the lesson, I want a working sample from each pair. Begin."

The room came alive in a chorus of scraping stools and clinking glass.

Eddi glanced at the tray, already sketching formulas in the back of her mind. She pushed a couple of iron rods toward Oliver and Austin. "Here," she said, smirking. "Play nice with the fire and don't set the desk alight. That's Raff's thing."

"Don't tempt me," Austin muttered, but he was already holding a match to one of the rods. Oliver leaned in eagerly, wings twitching as he bent over the flame.

That left Eddi space to breathe. She tied her hair back with a neat twist, using her DaVinci to keep it in place, whilst she laid out her own instruments with precision, and began to calibrate the ratios. Her pen scratched across a notebook, formulas flowing easily from mind to page.

"Pairs, Leveret," came Isaac's voice, cutting and precise from across the aisle, "In case you missed Stonehearst's instructions, that means two. Not three."

Eddi didn't look up. "One of us disappears," she said smoothly, sliding a beaker into place with the flick of her wrist. "So he doesn't count." She added a pinch of powdered silver, watching the mixture hiss. "And last I checked, Addams hasn't moved an inch to help you. So by your own logic, you're working alone."

A ripple of suppressed laughter ran through the students nearby. Gomez grinned, leaning lazily against his tool. "She's not wrong, hermano."

Isaac's jaw tightened, the smallest flicker of irritation crossing his face. He adjusted a dial on his own setup with deliberate care, metal clicking faintly against glass. "Better to work alone than rely on incompetence."

Eddi hummed, pouring a steady stream of liquid mercury into her beaker without spilling a drop. "Funny. That's what I thought last year- until my results outscored yours."

That earned her a sharp look, one that might have cut her in two if she'd bothered to meet it. But she didn't. Her focus stayed on the experiment, her hand steady, her expression serene. It was almost worse than if she'd smirked.

Stonehearst prowled past just then, hawk-like eyes sweeping over her setup. "Good ratios, Leveret. You may have it stabilised before the rest of them catch up."

Isaac's knuckles whitened against the bench.

Eddi shifted slightly on her stool, her focus narrowing as she stretched her power out in several directions at once. The beaker hovered just above the flame, the liquid inside trembling with controlled heat. At the same time, her pen scratched across the page in sharp, even strokes, recording her steps in neat script, but with an invisible force drawing it across the pages.

Her hair, which had slipped loose while she worked, rose and twisted itself back into a knot at the nape of her neck, held by an invisible grip. She barely noticed- her mind moved as easily as her hands.

To her, it was efficiency. To Isaac, watching from the next bench, it was arrogance disguised as elegance. She didn't even need to look like she was trying. She just...was.

His jaw set, and he measured out his own solution with deliberate precision, as though sheer control might outmatch her ease.

Oliver glanced over at Eddi's hovering pen and grinned. "Show-off," he whispered, nudging Austin, who was too busy trying to see how long he could hold the iron rod in the flame before it bent.

"Careful," Eddi murmured without looking up. The rod levitated neatly out of Austin's grip and settled onto the rack, glowing faintly. "If you melt the desk, Stonehearst will use your hide as a cover plate."

Austin made a face but didn't argue.

By the time Stonehearst called for samples, Eddi's stabiliser glowed with a perfect pearlescent sheen, balanced and steady, the flame beneath it flickering but contained. She capped the vial with a small flourish, setting it gently on the tray for inspection.

Isaac placed his own sample beside hers, every motion sharp, clipped. His vial was filled, but the liquid shimmered with a faint irregularity- the reaction just slightly unstable.

Stonehearst leaned over Eddi's first, eyes narrowing as he tilted it back and forth. "Excellent, Leveret. Ratios perfect. A model example."

A murmur rippled through the class.

Then he picked up Isaac's vial. He swirled it, once, twice, the corners of his mouth tightening. "Correct ingredients, Night, but rushed. You sacrificed stability for speed. Remember- perfection requires patience."

The professor moved on, leaving silence in his wake.

Eddi allowed herself the faintest smile, sliding her notebook shut with a soft snap. She didn't look at Isaac- not once. Which was almost worse than if she had

Once again Isaac's hand curled into a fist against the bench, the faint whirring of gears in his chest ticking a fraction faster.

The bell chimed, and chairs scraped as students began to gather their things. Eddi slid her notebook into her satchel, her movements graceful, unhurried. She adjusted her uniform jacket, flicked her wrist, and her pen leapt neatly off the desk into her bag.

Isaac was already watching her when she finally stood.

"Enjoy the applause while you can, Leveret," he said coolly, falling into step just behind her as the room emptied. "One neat trick doesn't make a career."

Eddi didn't turn. "Neither does rushing and botching, Night."

They passed into the corridor, their voices echoing off the stone walls.

Isaac's lip curled. "You think juggling pens and hairpins makes you superior? It's parlour magic. Any DaVinci can wave their hands around and pretend it's genius."

Her stride didn't falter. She glanced at him once, hazel eyes calm, almost amused. "Pretend? Then perhaps you should try it sometime. It might keep your vials from destabilising."

A couple of younger students, overhearing, stifled snickers as they hurried by.

Isaac's jaw tightened, gears clicking faintly in his chest as though his heart had picked up pace. "You're arrogant."

"Confident," Eddi corrected softly. She adjusted the strap of her satchel and offered him a fleeting smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "There's a difference. You'd know that, if you'd ever won gracefully."

Before he could answer, Austin and Oliver spilled into the corridor, Oliver throwing an arm around Eddi's shoulder.

"Oi, Leveret! Coming to Botanics, or are you too busy waving your academic dick in Night’s face?"

Eddi laughed lightly, shaking him off. "Got to go. Wouldn't want to keep the children waiting."

As she walked away with her friends, Isaac lingered a moment longer in the corridor, staring after her with a scowl carved sharp as a blade. The faint tickling in his chest didn't slow.

Botanics passed in a blur- all of them crammed into the greenhouse, Austin making plants vanish mid-lesson and Oliver getting whacked across the knuckles with Professor Blackwood's trowel for trying to pluck feathers from a carnivorous fern. Eddi kept them mostly in line, mostly.

By the time lunch rolled around, the five of them were still laughing, loud as ever, as they filed into the dining hall.

"Go on ahead," Eddi said, slipping her satchel onto her shoulder. "I want to check on Vittorie. First day and all."

"Tell her if she needs help with her homework, Isaac spends most of his nights doing nothing," Raff called, grinning.

Eddi rolled her eyes but waved them off, cutting away from the buzz of Caliban Hall and up the quieter stairwell that spiralled toward Ophelia. The chatter faded behind her.

That was when the ache started.

At first it was a dull throb in her forearm, familiar enough that she froze mid-step. Then the pulse quickened, beating in time with her own heart, until the pain sharpened to a low burn beneath her sleeve.

Her breath hitched. Vittorie.

Eddi broke into a run, boots hammering against stone, ignoring the startled glances of passing students. By the time she reached the corridor, the ache had spread up her arm, lightning flashing beneath her skin.

"Vittorie!"

She shoved the door open with a crack of force. Francoise startled, dropping a book from where she sat on the bed. In one motion, Eddi's power flared- the smaller girl was slammed against the wall, pinned there by invisible hands.

"Where is she?" Eddi's voice was sharp, almost feral, her scar blazing beneath her sleeve. "What's happened to her?"

Francoise let out a squeak, wide-eyed. "N-nothing! She just went down to lunch! She's fine!"

Eddi blinked, chest heaving. Her power held a beat longer before she forced it to recede. Francoise slid to the floor, trembling, clutching her book to her chest.

The burning in Eddi's arm eased as suddenly as it had come, leaving only a faint throb. Cold dread replaced it.

Not Vittorie.

Her knees felt weak as she sank onto the edge of the bed, dragging her sleeve back, careful to shield it from Francoise's startled eyes. The scar still glowed faintly, like embers under skin. Somewhere, somehow, Jago had cried out- and the vow had heard.

Francoise's frightened gaze followed her. "You...you thought I-?"

"I thought my sister was in danger," Eddi said quietly, voice rough. She tugged her sleeve back down, hiding the mark. "I was wrong."

Eddi didn't say another word to Francoise. She pushed herself up from the bed, sleeve tugged down tight over her forearm, and strode out, her steps too fast, too sharp against the polished floorboards of Ophelia Hall. The ache in her scar had dulled but the dread had only grown heavier, coiled in her stomach like lead.

Jago. Something had happened. She knew it in her bones.

She rounded the corner so fast she nearly bowled someone over.

"Eddi-?"

It was Vittorie, wide-eyed, clutching her lunch. Before she could blink, Eddi had seized her in a desperate embrace, arms wrapped tight around her younger sister's small frame. Her hands patted quickly down Vittorie's arms and shoulders as though to make sure every bone was still intact.

"Are you hurt? Did anything happen? Are you all right?" The questions tumbled out of her, quick and fierce.

Vittorie wriggled in her grasp, cheeks flushed. "I-I'm fine! You're making a scene- people are staring!"

Eddi didn't let go right away. Relief surged through her, fierce enough to sting her eyes, but it was tangled with dread, heavier and darker, because the vow hadn't lied. If Vittorie was safe here, then the pain meant only one thing.

It was Jago.

At last, she eased her hold, her smile too brittle to convince anyone. "Just checking. First day nerves, you know?"

Vittorie frowned, clearly unconvinced, but she glanced around at the curious onlookers and sighed. "You're so dramatic."

"Runs in the family," Eddi said lightly, though her chest still ached with the ghost of burning.

She smoothed her sister's hair, let her go, and forced her feet to carry her back down the stairwell, away from the questions in Vittorie's eyes.

>

The fire in the Caliban common room burned low, its orange glow casting restless shadows along the old stone walls. The usual raucous chatter had dwindled; most of the boys had drifted off to their dorms, leaving only the crackle of flames and the occasional thump of footsteps overhead.

Eddi sat curled in an armchair a little apart from the others, knees drawn up, her purple satin pyjamas glinting faintly in the firelight. A heavy book rested open in her lap- On the Nature of Soul and Science- but her eyes hadn't moved over the same page in nearly ten minutes.

In front of her, a long stretch of parchment was spread across the low table. Her pen hovered above it, swaying slightly in the air under her command. She had started half a dozen sentences, each struck out as quickly as they appeared.

Father, she'd written once, before slashing through it. Too bold. Too likely to provoke his cruelty.

To the maid, another line read, abonded midway. If he found the letter, the punishment would fall on her instead. On Jago.

Her scar ached faintly beneath her sleeve, a reminder that doing nothing was just as dangerous as doing the wrong thing.

The pen trembled, dipped in ink, hovered as she tried to decide who she could risk trusting.

The heavy slam of the common room door made her flinch.

"Leveret!"

Isaac's voice cut through the room like a blade. He strode in, his uniform jacket unbuttoned and his hair a little disheveled, fury flashing sharp in his eyes. The whir of the clockwork in his chest ticked audibly in the otherwise quiet room.

Eddi raised her head, her pen clattering down onto the parchment with a blot of ink. "What is it now, Night?" she said coolly, though her heart still hammered from the scare.

"You laid hands on my sister." his voice was low, venomous, carrying far more weight than a simple accusation. "You pinned her to a wall like she was prey."

The room seemed to shrink around them, the fire popping in the silence between his words.

Eddi's mouth tightened. "She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I thought Vittorie was in danger."

"That justifies terrifying Francoise?" Isaac's tone was razor-sharp, his fury almost personal. "She's never done anything to you."

Eddi held his gaze, unflinching. But inside, the scar burned. If only you knew.

Eddi rose slowly from the armchair, the book slipping shut in her lap. She set it aside, squaring her shoulders. "Your sister is fine. Shaken, maybe, but fine. You don't need to storm in her like a madman."

Isaac stalked closer, the faint tick-tick in his chest matching the clipped rhythm of his steps. "Don't dismiss this, Leveret. You frightened her half to death. She's not one of your little playthings you can toss around when you lose your temper."

"My temper?" Eddi's laugh was sharp, bitter. "You think you, you know what losing my temper looks like? You’ve seen nothing."

His eyes burned, darkened and relentless. "I know that you're reckless. You treat this school like it's yours to command- the teachers, the boys, even the halls themselves bend to you. And now Francoise. She doesn't worship you like the rest of them, she doesn't need-"

"Careful, Night." Her voice dropped, cool as glass. "If you think I want your sister's admiration or anyones for that matter, you're more conceited than I thought."

For a moment, they just glared at each other, the air between them taut as wire. Eddi felt the firelight catch on the sharp line of his jaw, the tautness of his shoulders as he stood in front of her, all heat and fury. Against her better judgement, a flicker of something dangerous stirred in her chest- attraction, inconvenient and unwelcome.

She turned, ready to walk away. "This conversation is over."

But Isaac's hand shot out, closing around her forearm.

The scar seared instantly, white-hot beneath her sleeve. Eddi flinched as though burned, panic sparking like lightning up her nerves. Her power flared without thought- an invisible force shoved Isaac back, hard enough that he stumbled into the edge of a table, books crashing to the floor.

He stared at her, stunned, anger and confusion warring on his face.

Eddi's breathing came quick, her sleeve still tugged tightly down. She forced her voice steady, though it trembled faintly with the aftershock.

"Touch me again, Night," she said coldly, "and you'll learn what reckless really looks like."

She swept past him without another glance, her footsteps echoing sharply up the stairs toward the attic.

Isaac remained in the firelight, chest ticking audibly, his hand still tingling from where he'd grabbed her. Anger simmered in him, yes- but underneath it, something else. Something that unsettled him more than the push of her power ever could.

The library was quiet, save for the scratching of pens and the occasional rustle of parchment. Afternoon sunlight spilled through the high windows in hazy beams, catching on the floating ladders that drifted between shelves like lazy ghosts.

Eddi sat at a broad oak table, her posture perfect, her notes immaculate. Lines of formulae and diagrams spilled across the page, her quill gliding with effortless precision under the guidance of her DaVinci gift. But her eyes- sharp hazel, usually lit with humour- were fixed too hard, too long on the same set of calculations.

Raff leaned back in his chair until it balanced dangerously on two legs. "You've been quiet," he said, twirling a flame lazily above his palm. "Too quiet. Which means you're either plotting a new way to humiliate Night, or..." He tilted his head, studying her. "...something's eating you."

Eddi didn't look up. "I'm studying."

"You're brooding," Lenny countered, sprawled sideways in his seat, boots up on the table. "And you've been doing it since dinner the other night. What’s happened?"

"Nothing." The word was clipped, efficient. Her quill didn't pause, though the ink on the page had long since dried.

Raff arched a brow. "Nothing? You expect me to believe that? I've know you since you were twelve, Leveret. You don't get that storm cloud look on your face over 'nothing's."

Lenny smirked, "Maybe she's heartbroken. Secret lover? Hidden tryst? Unrequited passion-"

"Just fuck off, Lenny."

Eddi flicked her wrist and his chair tipped backwards, dumping him onto the floor with a thud that made the nearest librarian hiss. Eddi didn't so much as glance up.

Raff chuckled, dragging Lenny upright by the collar. "Still got some fire left in her. She'll be fine."

Before Eddi could reply, a voice like honeyed venom cut through the aisle.

"Well, well. Look who crawled out of her attic."

Eddi stiffened. The quill in her hand froze mid-word, the others which floats, halted their scratching.

Isadora Thistle leaned against the nearest bookshelf, a picture of casual elegance. Blonde hair fell in waves around her shoulders, her Ophelia Hall blazer pristine, the captain's badge pinned just above her heart gleaming in the sun. Her smile didn't reach her eyes.

"Leveret," she drawled, sauntering closer. "Still hiding in the shadows, behind your pack of puppy dogs, I see.”

Much to Isadora’s annoyance Eddi didn’t break her concentration, if it weren’t for the way her left hand clenched against the desk, it would have appeared Eddi hadn’t even noticed her arrival.

Raff's flame snuffed out instantly. He sat up straighter, eyes flicking between the two girls. Lenny crossed his arms, bristling.

Eddi finally looked up, her expression cool, almost bored. "Isadora. Still here? Pity. I had thought that after I wiped your face with the floor during last year’s final, you’d have found a hole to crawl into and die.“

The air between them crackled- not with magic, but with something older. A rivalry that hadn't dulled in years, only sharpened with time.

Isadora toyed idly with a lock of hair, pretending to glance at the rows of books, though her gaze never truly strayed from Eddi.

"So studious," she purred. "It's almost sweet, the way you pretend you're one of them. But I suppose you'll need all the protection you can get...especially with tryouts tonight."

Eddi arched a brow, still cool, still sharp. "Tryouts? Is that what this is? You stalking me through the library because you're terrified Caliban are going to keep their Blood Cup title?"

Isadora's smile widened, wolfish. "Please. You got lucky last year. Very lucky. I don’t fancy your chances this time.”

Eddi scoffed, “Luck was nothing to do with it, you’re just simply shit at the sport. And this year, your hall will have to suffer further embarrassment under your captaincy.”

Raff and Lenny giggled like school girls, Lenny poked his tongue into his cheek, trying to disguise his laughter, but Raff was less coy, pressing a hand to his mouth with clear delight.

“We both know you'll never wear the captain's badge. Caliban could win a hundred Cups, and you'd still just be-" she tilted her head, her voice lowering to a mocking whisper, her eyes lingering a little too long on Lenny- "the bitch in the whelping pen."

Lenny shot up form his chair, hackles rising, fists clenching. "Watch your mouth, Thistle." His voice was a low growl, carrying across the aisle. "You've clearly never paid attention to Eddi on the field, or you wouldn't be talking so brave. She could run circles around your entire Ophelia squad blindfolded."

Isadora's eyes flicked to him, amused. "How touching. The new captain standing up for his little mascot."

"Captain," Lenny repeated, leaning over the table with a smirk, "That's right. Which means it's my squad you'll be dealing with, not your paper-thin lineup. Half your best players graduated last spring, and you still couldn't manage the Blood Cup. You think you've got the grit to take us down this year?"

Isadora's smile faltered- just slightly- but she covered it with a toss of her hair. "We'll manage. We always do-"

"Didn't last year, though." Eddi cut in with a shrug, Isadora's eyes flashing with red hot rage, before she continued.

"-Caliban boys are all brawn, no brains. And you-" She let her gaze rest on Eddi again, sweet and cutting at once- "You're just a distraction. Pretty to look at, maybe even clever with your little tricks. But you'll never lead. Not here. Not anywhere."

For a heartbeat, silence stretched. Raff's jaw tightened, his flame sparking unbidden in his palm. Lenny was half out of his chair, eyes flashing.

And Eddi- Eddi didn't rise, didn't snap, didn't give Isadora the satisfaction. She leaned back in her chair, folded her arms, and said, smooth as silk:

"Better worry about your own Hall, Isadora. From where I'm sitting, you don't have the players, you don't have the bite, and frankly-" her lips curled in a quick, dangerous smile- "you don't have me."

Raff let out a sharp bark of laughter, loud enough to draw the librarian's glare. Lenny grinned, with a wolfish smirk.

Isadora's cheeks pinked, but she recovered quickly, chin lifting high. "We'll see, won't we? Out on the field."

She turned on her heel, her shoes clicking sharp against the floor, and swept away between the stacks.

Raff let the fire in his hand puff into smoke, "I hate her."

"Everyone hates her," Lenny said, flopping back into his chair, "That's why she's so smug."

Eddi finally dipped her quill, resuming her notes with technical precision, though her pulse was thrumming hot in her throat. "Let her talk," she murmured. "I'll let my skills on the field answer her."

>

The rain fell in sheets, hammering the wards that shimmered faintly over the Bloodrush pitch. Thunder cracked overhead, the perfect fanfare for the start of the Caliban Hall's tryouts. The field itself was restless, the enchanted soil shifting as though it could already smell blood. Mud clumped at boots one moment, then slicked into ice the next, only to melt into fog that curled low across the ground.

Bloodrush was never played on still earth.

Eddi stood at the edge of the pitch, arms crossed, her purple practice kit plastered to her athletic frame by the storm. The boys had told her she looked like she was born for the rain- lean and sharp, thunder sparking in her hazel eyes. She brushed it off, as usual. All that mattered was the game.

The rules were simple in theory, brutal in practice.

Two teams. One glowing, unstable orb- the Wraithstone.

Get the stone into the opposing goal zone, slam it past the wards, and survive the flare of magic that came with scoring. The Wraithstone itself was part of the danger; semi-sentient, it resisted the unworthy, burned palms, lashed with shocks if held too long. It wanted aggression. It fed on it.

There were no real fouls in Bloodrush. Outcast abilities were fair game. Claws, fire, invisibility- if you had it, you used it.

And still, the game divided into roles:

Runners, fleet-footed and fearless, darting past bruisers to score. Eddi, Oliver, and Max Inkwood- a wiry psychic, who leant into the raven'[s view of the world, giving him the knack for dodging blows before they landed- the three of them made up the speed of the Caliban squad.

Bruisers, built to block and break. Lenny's wolf strength and Raff's fire already anchored the team, though they were still hunting for a third.

Strikers, specialists at stealing the Wraithstone mid-play. Marshal Wolpers, who could spark electricity through the stone itself to jolt it free, and Chester Owlet, a quick-shouldered wolf pup, held the line. They needed one more.

Wraithkeepers, the last defence at the goal zone. Austin, with his ability to vanish and reappear in bursts, was unmatched- he was infuriatingly smug about the fact.

"Perfect weather," Raff said, grinning like a devil as he tossed a small flame between his fingers, the rain sizzling it out before it grew. "Field'll eat half these tryouts alive before the stone even gets them."

"Good," Lenny growled, pulling his hood tighter over his broad shoulders. "I don't want anyone who isn't willing to bleed with us."

Eddi flexed her hands, drawing shapes and pattern in the mist curling over the pitch. She didn't need to say anything. The fire was already alive in her chest. Bloodrush wasn't just a game to her. It was where she left her father's voice behind, where she wasn't anyone's replacement mother, anyone's tether. Out here, with the Wraithstone thrumming like a second heart, she was just Eddi- fast, sharp, and unstoppable.

Coach Vlad's booming voice cut through the storm. "Caliban Hall! Line up. Let's see what kind of meat we've got this year."

The boys filed forward, rowdy and eager, jeering at each other under their breath. Eddi held her place in line, chin up, as the new hopefuls gathered nearby. Some looked nervous, others hungry. A few already had mud streaking their uniforms, courtesy of the field shifting beneath their feet.

Her eyes flicked once, unbidden, across the pitch. There was a smattering of spectators despite the unruly rain. A mixture of first years, not allowed to trial due to Caliban rules; some girls giggling and conspiring as they ogled the young talent on the field. Eddi even noticed a couple of Puck and Ophelia players, spying no doubt. However, her eyes fell on a spectator most unusual; Isaac Night was there, leaning against the barrier, not playing but watching. He looked like he was carved from the storm itself- dark, sharp-edged, disdainful. His gaze slid over the team, over the tryouts, and lingered just long enough on her to make her pulse stutter.

She set her jaw, ignoring him.

This was her place. Her game.

The Wraithstone flared to life at the centre of the pitch, glowing a violent white-blue, crackling against the rain.

It was time.

The Wraithstone pulsed in the mud like a heartbeat, its glow violent and erratic, the stormlight caught inside it. Even from the edge of the pitch, the air around it crackled, daring someone to touch it first.

"Runners...up!" Coach Vlad bellowed.

Eddi was already moving, mud sucking at her boots as she launched forward. Oliver flapped at her side, lean and sharp, while Max lagged a pace behind, his gaze unfocused as if he were already seeing the moves about to happen.

The Wraithsone wasn't neutral- it had preferences. As Eddi scooped it from the muck, it jolted against her palm, not rejecting her but testing her, its energy burning against her skin. She tightened her grip and ran.

The field shifted beneath her feet, the mud turning slick, then suddenly solid stone as though the ground itself wanted her thrown off balance. But she kept her stride even, tucking the orb close as Oliver darted ahead to block, flapping his golden wings in an attempt to distract.

A bruiser from the tryouts- too big for his uniform, shoulders hunched like a boulder- charged straight for her. Lenny intercepted, the impact of wolf-blood strength against raw muscle echoing like thunder. Eddi darted past them both, Max shouting a warning before the ground split open just ahead. She didn't think, she just leapt, vaulting the crack as the Wraithstone sparked against her arm like live wire. Using her DaVinci to lift her own feet over the ground.

She slammed the stone down in the scoring zone, as her feet met solid ground- a circle etched into the earth by ancient wards- and the flare hit her like a shockwave, tossing her back into the mud. She rolled backwards over her shoulder, but she found her feet, instead of sprawling in the mud. Her laugh tore out with the rain.

"Again!" Coach Vlad roared, his grin feral.

The tryouts weren't laughing.

The drills turned brutal quickly. Raff's fire was searing against the storm, hissing as rain doused it, but he used the steam to blind opponents. Austin blinked in and out of sight near the goalposts, appearing just in time to yank the Wraithstone from grasping hands, or catching it close to the ground, just as the tryout would push to score. Marshal electrified the orb itself, forcing a tryout to drop it screaming, before he himself hit the floor with some kind of fit, while Chester ripped into the mud with claws to keep others off balance.

It was chaos, and the Caliban team thrived in it. They weren't polished. They weren't clean. But every rough edge locked into place when they moved together.

By the time Gomez Addams stepped onto the pitch, the storm had soaked them all through. He looked pale against the lightning, his uniform too neat, too dry, as if he were trying not to be here at all. This would explain Isaac's unusual appearance at the pitch side, clearly dragged unwillingly by his roommate for moral support.

"Addams!" Vlad barked. "You want a spot, prove it. Stone's live."

The Wraithstone hit the mud with a heavy thud, and Gomez stared at it a second too long. The orb pulsed, rejecting his hesitation with a small crackle.

"Pick it up!" Lenny barked.

He did. And it burned him immediately. Gomez's jaw tightened, but he didn't drop it. He ran, awkward but fast, the Wraithstone's glow wild in his hands.

The bruisers were on him instantly. Eddi darted forward, intercepting, her body low and sharp as she tackled one broad-shouldered tryout out of the way with a swipe of her hand, heading to meet Gomez half way. Oliver swept past the other, nimble as smoke. For a moment, Gomez had a clean line.

Then the Wraithstone flared, testing him harder, searing at his palms. He faltered- and Eddi was there. Addams managed to light a spark from his finger tips, but Eddi caught it in her invisible grip before it could shake its way down her body. Flicking her wrist, the shock rebounded hitting Gomez square, the stone flying from his palm, Eddi caught it as it sailed into the air, and Gomez collapsed to the ground. Sucking the stone into her palm with the altering of her wrist, the orb calming against her grip once it met her waiting hand.

"Lesson one," she called over her shoulder, sprinting for the scoring zone as Gomez gaped at her. "Keep your bolts to yourself, when you're messing with a DaVinci."

The wards lit with another flare as she slammed it home.

From the barrier, Isaac was still watching. His face was carved stone, unreadable in the stormlight, but his eyes were tracking her. Every move, every strike of the Wraithstone against her palms.

Eddi didn't notice. She was too busy pulling herself out of the mud, shaking rainwater from her hair as Coach Vlad barked orders at the next group of hopefuls.

Bloodrush was where she lived.

The rain had slowed to a steady curtain by the time Coach Vlad called the last whistle. The Wraithstone dimmed, sinking into the mud as though it were spent, and the tryouts stood in a rough, bruised line. Some were panting, some bleeding, most of them plastered in grime.

Vlad stalked along the row, hands behind his back, his black hair dripping rain. His eyes gleamed with the same savage pride he carried every year. "Not all of you are fit for Caliban. But tonight, a few of you earned it."

He stopped in front of a lanky boy with ink-dark eyes and a twitchy grin. Orion Nettle. "You. Striker. That swarm trick- nasty. I like nasty. You'll do."

Orion grinned wider, a ripple of flies materialising briefly at his collarbone before dispersing.

Next, Vlad pointed at a broad-shouldered boy still smouldering faintly from his own misfire. Vaughan Filly, another Pyro. "Bruiser. Anyone who nearly roasts their teammate alive and still keeps going earns a shot."

Oliver coughed meaningfully behind Eddi, shaking a wing that was still singed at the edges. Eddi elbowed him lightly before he could mutter something fatal under his breath.

"And-" Vlad continued, voice low and rough. "our bench." He turned to three others, his lip curling as though to remind them their places weren't permanent. "Lyre. Ferlet. Addams."

Gomez stiffened where he stood, mud streaked across his pale cheek, but he nodded once, jaw clenched. Isaac's shadow lingered on the barrier behind him, unmoved as ever.

Vlad stepped back, folding his arms. "That's my say. Now your captain's."

Lenny Sterling pushed foward, his wolf's grin broad and unashamed, teeth flashing in the stormlight. He scanned the team, his muddy hands flexing once, and then clapped them together hard enough to make several tryouts flinch.

"Listen up! This year's ours again. I don't care if Ophelia Hall thinks they can steal it. I don't care if Thisbie Hall gets their hands on new strikers. We've got fire. We've got teeth. We've got her."

He jabbed a clawed thumb toward Eddi. She froze, blinking at him through mud dripping from her lashes.

"And since I'm now captain, after our glorious leader, Ryland Rohaus, parted ways following his graduation from Nevermore last year, he granted me his blessing in my decision," Lenny went on, "That decision is, I'm making Edrisse Leveret, my co-captain."

A ripple of noise surged through the group- some cheers, some mutters, a few raised brows at the break in tradition. But Eddi barely heard any of it.

Her throat was tight, her arms covered in bruises and streaks of blood, her boots caked in mud, but none of it mattered. The pride swelled sharp and fierce in her chest. She wanted to laugh, to cry, to throw herself against Lenny like the brother she'd never had, but she kept her chin up and her smirk sharp.

"Don't go soft on me now, Sterling," she teased, before striding forward to grip his forearm in a "bro-hug". Mud smeared between them, and she leaned in close just long enough to murmur. "You'll regret that when I outshine you."

Lenny just grinned wider. "Not possible."

Behind them, the team broke into applause, some mocking, some genuine. The rain came down harder again, but Eddi didn't care.

She was Caliban. She was co-captain.

And if Isaac Night had seen the way she glowed through the storm, that was his problem not hers.

>

By the time Eddi returned to Caliban Hall, the corridors were dark and quiet, the storm still rattling faintly at the windows. She tugged her damp hair tighter into a knot at the back of her head, her uniform clinging unpleasantly against her skin. The boys had long since vanished upstairs, smug and steaming after their showers. She'd had to wait until the bathrooms were cleared out- another reminder that there were no provisions for a girl in Caliban.

The common room was nearly empty. Nearly.

Only Isaac sat there, hunched over one of the deep armchairs, a notebook balanced on his knee and a sharp-ribbed pen scratching across the page in quick, clipped strokes. The firelight caught against the angles of his face, making his expression sharper still, as though he belonged to shadow more than flame.

"Hiding in the dark again?" Eddi's voice cut through the silence, her usual teasing lilt roughened by exhaustion. "Careful, Night, people will start thinking you're plotting something."

She angled toward the stairwell, mud-caked boots squelching faintly against the floor. But Isaac's voice stopped her cold.

"Impressive showing out there."

The words were flat, not praise but barbed. He didn't even glance up from his page. "For someone wasting her brilliance on a brutish spectacle."

Eddi's spine went taut. She turned back to him slowly, eyes narrowed. "Brutish spectacle? That brutish spectacle takes more strategy than your precious equations. But I wouldn't expect you to know- there's no neat formula for guts."

That made him look up, pen stilled mid-air, his expression cool and unreadable.

"Guts are cheap," he said quietly, "Intellect is not. And it's pathetic to see someone so capable wallow in mud just to feel cheered by halfwits."

Eddi's lips curved into a sharp smile, though her hazel eyes glittered hard. She stepped closer, the firelight catching the streaks of mud across her jaw, the pride still fresh in her posture.

"Well," she said softly, but fiercely, "better to wallow in mud with friends, than rot in shadows with nothing but your fragile ego for company."

His jaw flexed once, a small betrayal of tension. She didn't wait for him to answer.

With a final flick of her muddy hair, Eddi turned and strode toward the attic stairwell, leaving Isaac alone with his notes, the fire, and the echo of her words.

By the first weekend back at Nevermore, the rhythm of the term had begun to hum again- familiar, loud and a little lawless.

Caliban Hall had reclaimed its title as the noisiest dorm on campus within days. Raff had already set off two accidental fire alarms (the second apparently on purpose to dodge a pop quiz from Ms. Garth). Austin had vanished halfway through lunch on Thursday and reappeared in the staff corridor, holding Professor Orloff's coffee as if nothing were wrong. Lenny, newly minted captain, had spent most of the week barking orders at the Bloodrush squad, and the rest of it trying to stop Oliver from dive-bombing other students during flying drills.

And Eddi- well, Eddi had slipped back into her element.

She moved through the school's twisting corridors like she belonged to them: sharp-minded in class, sharper-tongued with her friends, always with her sleeves pulled down tight over the lightning-scar that pulsed faintly beneath. In Experimental Chemistry, she dominated the front row, her DaVinci powers flowing effortlessly between pen, beaker, and book. In Advanced Physics, she challenged Professor Stonehearst's theorems with unnerving accuracy.

But if she was honest, the real challenge of the week had nothing to do with science.

It had to do with Isaac Night.

Since their confrontation in the common room, the two of them hadn't spoken- not properly. Yet wherever she turned, there he was: across a lab table, or sitting two rows behind her in lectures, always immaculate, always infuriating. They hadn't exchanged more than a handful of words, but every glance felt like a held blade- a quiet, mutual refusal to back down.

Eddi told herself she didn't care. That he was background noise, static in an otherwise perfect week.

But every time she caught his brown eyes flicking toward her- cool, assessing, and gone again too quickly- something in her chest sparked like the Wraithstone.

By Friday night, even her friends had noticed.

"You're doing that stare thing again," Oliver murmured at dinner, nodding discreetly toward Isaac at the far end of the hall. “At Night.”

"I don't have a stare thing," Eddi replied, looking back at her untouched plate. “Especially not at him.”

"You so do," Raff grinned. "It's all...fiery glare, academic dominance, and subtle I-want-to-strangle-you energy. Kinda hot."

Eddi rolled her eyes, "Fuck off Raff. You're imagining things."

"Sure," Austin said, vanishing briefly, then reappearing on her other side with a sly grin. "Imagining things. Like how he's definitely glaring back right now."

Just as Austin vanished again, Eddi flicked her wrist tying his shoelaces, which caused a loud clattering and banging sound, before Austin reappeared crumpled on the floor. A few other students around giggling as Austin glared daggers at Eddi, who didn’t give him a second look.

Lenny snorted. "Forget him. We've got more important things to worry about. Like the party tonight."

Eddi looked up, caught off guard. "Party?"

"The first-week bash," Raff said, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "Whole school. You can't skip it, co-captain."

Eddi sighed, but the corner of her mouth twitched. "Fine. But if anyone sets fire to the woods again-"

"That was one time!" Raff protested.

Eddi's laugh cut through the noise, bright and easy. Still, as the boys launched into plans for the evening, her eyes strayed once more toward the far end of the room- where Isaac sat alone, head bent over a book, his meal untouched, ignoring the laughter around him.

Or at least pretending to.

After dinner, the castle hummed with weekend energy- doors slamming, laughter echoing down the stairwells, and the faint buzz of whispered plans for the night ahead.

Eddi didn't follow the boys back to Caliban. Instead, she wound her way towards Ophelia Hall, her footsteps softer here, where the air always smelled faintly of rosewater and candle smoke. She told herself she just wanted to check in on Vittorie- make sure her first week had gone smoothly- but truthfully, it was the first quiet moment she'd allowed herself all week.

Vittorie's room was warm and golden when she knocked. Her little sister opened the door almost immediately, a wide smile breaking across her face.

"Eddi! I didn't think I'd see you tonight."

"I figured I'd better check in on my favourite first-year before she forgets I exist."

Vittorie rolled her eyes, pulling her sister inside. The room was neat and dainty- fairy lights strung above the twin beds, ribbons tied around the wardrobe handles. Francoise's side of the room was tucked and tidy to near perfection, her books lined in exact order.

They'd barely begun talking- Eddi listening fondly as Vittorie described her week of classes and Ophelia Hall gossip- when the door creaked again. Francoise slipped in quietly from dinner, still in her uniform. The instant her eyes met Eddi's, her face drained of colour.

Eddi sighed inwardly.

Vittorie noticed immediately. "Francoise? Are you alright?"

"I-yes, of course," she stammered, clutching her satchel. "Just...surprised."

Eddi offered a rueful smile. "Don't worry. We had a minor misunderstanding the other day. All in the past now."

Francoise looked like she wanted to sink through the floorboards, but she nodded quickly.

Vittorie frowned between them, clearly sensing there was more to the story, but let it drop. "Well, I'm glad that's sorted. Because- Eddi- you'll never guess! There's a party tonight. In the woods. And I was thinking..."

Eddi raised an eyebrow. "Oh no."

"Oh yes." Vittorie clasped her hands dramatically. "Francoise and I were hoping we could come with you."

Eddi hesitated. "It's not exactly a-uh-school sponsored event. And it's usually loud. And chaotic. And probably dangerous."

Vittorie's eyes went wide and pleading. "Please? You won't even notice we're there. I promise! We just want to meet people. It'll be fun."

Eddi sighed. The thought of chaperoning her little sister at a Caliban-heavy bonfire made her want to evaporate on the spot- but the excitement on Vittorie's face undid her resistance in seconds.

"Fine," she relented. "But you both stay near the firelight, and if you see Raff with a bottle, you run."

Vittorie squealed, throwing her arms around her. "You're the best!"

"I'm aware," Eddi muttered, though she couldn't help smiling.

As Vittorie spun away to pick an outfit, she paused suddenly. "Wait-Eddi, could you do my hair? I've been trying to braid it like you do, but it just-"

"-looks like a bird tried to nest in it?" Eddi teased, motioning her over to sit on the bed.

Vittorie laughed, sitting cross-legged in front of her. Eddi began to braid, deft fingers weaving through golden strands, her powers subtly guiding stray locks into place. The familiarity of the act calmed her more than she expected.

After a moment, a small voice broke the quiet.

"Could you...maybe do mine too?"

Francoise stood by her bed, twisting her hands nervously.

Eddi blinked, then smiled gently. "Of course."

The tension in the room seemed to ease at once. Francoise sat very still while Eddi worked, cheeks pink, eyes wide. By the time she finished, her dark hair fell in soft plaits, neat but not severe- a little touch of Caliban flair hidden among Ophelia perfection.

"There," Eddi said, sitting back. "Now you both look like you belong at a party in the woods."

Vittorie beamed. Francoise ducked her head but smiled, shy and genuine.

And for the first time in days, the ache in Eddi's chest- the one that had flared with fear and guilt and too many thoughts of home- eased just a little.

Eddi left Ophelia Hall with a promise.

"Meet me in the quad at eight," she told Vittorie. "And don't bring half the first-years with you, alright?"

Vittorie nodded so vigorously her braid nearly came undone. Francoise just smiled shyly, clutching the end of hers.

By the time Eddi made it back to Caliban, the school had fallen into that dusky, expectant lull before the weekend chaos truly began. The great windows were streaked with rain, the torchlight making the stone walls flicker like they were breathing.

She climbed the final staircase to her attic room, boots echoing against the narrow steps, and paused with her hand on the doorknob.

Something felt...off.

She heard the smallest squeak of a floorboard from behind her bedroom door. Carefully she turned the door knob finding it unlocked.

Her room was dimly lit by a single lamp, neat as she'd left it- but there was a faint hum in the air, the kind of distortion that usually came from someone holding their breath. Her attention was drawn to her bed. The usually pressed sheets of her bed, had the faintest ripple at the bottom.

"Very subtle," she muttered under her breath.

Eddi stepped inside slowly, eyes narrowing. Her gaze drifting to her bedside table where an abandoned glass of water sat. With a flick of her fingers, she sent the contents of it hurtling through the air.

It smashed into the middle of her bed with a satisfying splash.

"Hey!"

The outline of a figure blinked into existence- Austin, dripping wet and spluttering, the rest of the boys appearing in a cascade of laughter as his concentration broke. Lenny had his arm slung around Austin's shoulders, Raff was halfway through eating one of her biscuits, and Oliver's wings twitched guiltily as if trying to hide behind him.

Eddi planted her hands on her hips. "You bunch of fucking creeps."

Raff held up his hands in mock innocence. "We were testing Austin's vanishing range!"

"By sitting on my bed?"

"Well, it's the comfiest one in the dorm," Oliver quipped, and immediately ducked a flying cushion.

"What have I told you about using and abusing the key I gave you. It's meant for emergencies." Eddi rolled her eyes, beginning to hunt through her draws for an outfit tonight.

Austin wiped his face, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry, Ed. They made me."

"Right. Because you have no agency whatsoever."

They laughed, unbothered by her sarcasm- years of friendship had taught them when she was genuinely angry and when she was just pretending.

Eddi sighed, shaking her head. "You're all impossible."

She started rifling through her trunk for something to wear, tossing aside jumpers and old uniforms until she found the outfit she wanted: her favourite pair of worn-in jeans and a top that could only be described as strategically rebellious- modest enough to pass the teachers, doing their nightly patrols, but just daring enough to make the boys sputter.

She turned, one eyebrow raised. "Turn around. All of you."

Lenny groaned. "Again? It's nothing we haven't-"

The sentence died as their bodies jerked simultaneously- Eddi's invisible grip turning their shoulders sharply to face the wall.

"Eyes front," she warned. "Unless one of you fancies seeing how far I can throw a werewolf."

Raff snorted but obeyed. Oliver's wings fluttered anxiously.

Behind them, they could hear her moving- boots scuffing, fabric rustling, a drawer sliding open. When she was done, Eddi released her telekinetic hold and the boys stumbled slightly, all turning back in unison.

She stood there, hair pinned loosely, jeans hugging her long frame, and that top- dark, elegant, a little bit bold- catching the glow of the lamplight.

Raff whistled low. "Caliban's got a secret weapon."

Eddi smirked, tugging on her jacket. "Don't sound so surprised, Firethorn. You knew that already."

Lenny clapped his hands together. "Alright, gang. Woods at nine. Bring charm, wit, and alcohol. Or, failing that, just bring Eddi- she's got enough of all three."

Eddi rolled her eyes, pushing past him toward the stairs. "You're insufferable."

"And you love it," Raff called after her.

She didn't deny it- but she didn't turn around either.

The quad was alive with laughter and echoing footsteps- the unmistakable hum of a Nevermore weekend. Lanterns bobbed lazily above the old stone courtyard, casting golden light over wet flagstones still slick from the earlier rain.

Eddi was the first to arrive, boots crunching through puddles as she tugged her jacket tighter against the chill. She'd half-expected the boys to be late, but they appeared almost in formation- Lenny, Raff, Austin, and Oliver- loud, joking, and already a little too pleased with themselves.

Raff twirled a flask in his hand like it was a trophy. "Don't worry, Ed. I come bearing liquid courage."

"I'd say you're full of liquid stupidity," Eddi said dryly, "but I'll allow it tonight. Just keep it hidden from Vittorie."

"Compliment accepted, as are the instructions."

Before she could retort, a voice called her name from across the quad. Vittorie came hurrying down the path from Ophelia Hall, clutching Francoise's hand. Both girls looked small but radiant in the lamplight- Vittorie in a cream sweater and her hair braided neatly, Eddi's handiwork gleaming under the lanterns. Francoise trailing beside her like a shadow, still a little shy, the braid Eddi had placed in her hair earlier still delicate, but now it was decorated with clockwork clips.

"Eddi!" Vittorie waved, breathless and beaming. "We're not late, are we?"

Eddi smiled despite herself. "Not even close. You two look very-" she glanced at Raff, who was already opening his mouth, "-appropriate."

Raff shut his mouth with an exaggerated sigh.

Lenny crouched slightly to Vittorie's level, his grin softening. "How are you enjoying your first year at Nevermore so far, young Leveret?"

Vittorie straightened proudly. "Very much so."

"Another Leveret," Lenny sighed, mock-serious. "That means double trouble."

Eddi elbowed him lightly. "She's the good one. Don't corrupt her."

Raff leaned toward Francoise, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "And you must be the sister of the great Isaac Night. Is it true he actually bleeds oil?"

Francoisse blinked, caught between laughter and confusion. "No! He doesn't- well, not that I've ever seen."

The boys chuckled, and Eddi felt a faint smile tug at her lips. It was strange seeing Francoise relax, even a little- the nervousness she's shown days ago starting to melt away under the Caliban charm offensive.

Oliver, perched on the edge of a stone bench with his wings tucked neatly behind him, tilted his head toward Eddi. "You sure about bringing them, Ed? The woods can get a bit-"

"Unpredictable?" Eddi finished for him. "That's why they're coming with us. They'll be safe."

Vittorie crossed her arms. "I'm not a child."

Eddi smiled knowingly. "You say that now. Wait until Raff starts a fire."

"I can control myself." Raff protested. "Usually."

Austin's voice came from somewhere behind him- he'd half vanished except for a disembodied grin. "Define usually."

"Alright, knock it off," Eddi said, holding up a hand. "Tonight is about unwinding, not getting us all put on report."

Lenny grinned. "So...regular unwinding, then."

Eddi groaned, but there was laughter in her tone. "Come on, idiots. Let's get to the woods before the Ophelia girls drink all the- fruit juice."

The group began to move as one- Vittorie practically skipping beside Eddi, Francoise keeping close on her other side, and the Caliban boys spilling ahead like a wall of energy and noise. Eddi fell into step just behind them, the sound of their chatter rising into the cool night.

For a moment, under the drifting lantern light, Eddi allowed herself to feel something dangerously close to contentment- surrounded by her chosen family, her sister safe and smiling, and the world beyond the quad still full of possibility.

She didn't see the shadow that lingered near the far archway- Isaac Night, half-hidden beneath the stone arch, watching as she disappeared into the trees with a look caught somewhere between irritation and reluctant curiosity.

The woods behind Nevermore came alive on Friday nights.

It began with the hum of enchantments bleeding into the trees- glowing threads of light twisting between branches, bottles strung up like makeshift lanterns, the bassy thump of some magically amplified record echoing through the clearing.

By the time Eddi and the Caliban boys arrived, the party was in full swing. Students from every Hall mingled across the uneven forest floor- sparks of red and gold magic flaring in the dark, laughter bouncing off the trunks, the air thick with smoke and burnt embers. A pyro from Puck Hall had conjured a bonfire that roared a little too eagerly, its flames changing colour every few minutes depending on who fed it.

Outcasts were showing off in every direction- a vampire balancing on a levitating log, two werewolves arm-wrestling on a boulder, and a siren sitting in the crook of a tree branch, her voice weaving lazy spirals of music through the clearing.

Eddi took it all in with a crooked grin. "Same chaos, different semester."

Raff, already elbow-deep in a crate of bottles, whooped. "That's the Nevermore way."

Austin reappeared beside her, looking proud of himself. "I just saw someone trying to make a crate float to the treetops."

"Did it work?" Eddi asked.

"For about three seconds."

There was a crash somewhere in the distance and then a wave of laughter.

Eddi chuckled. "Classic."

Vittorie's eyes were wide, her whole face glowing with awe. Francoise was less enchanted- hovering close to her side like the shadows themselves might bite.

"This is...loud," Francoise murmured.

"Loud is good," Vittorie said firmly, "It means people are having fun."

Eddi ruffled her sister's hair gently. "Try not to turn into a bird and fly off if it gets too wild, yeah?"

"I won't!" Vittorie promised, giggling. "I see some of the first years from Botany over there- I'm going to say hi!"

Eddi hesitated, "Vitt-"

"I'll be fine," she interrupted, tugging Francoise along by the hand. "We'll stick together!"

Francoise shot Eddi a nervous but earnest smile as she was pulled away. "We'll behave, I promise."

"See that you do!" Eddi called after them, trying not to sound too much like a parent.

When they disappeared into the sea of students, the quiet that followed felt strange- lighter and heavier all at once.

Lenny appeared at her side, grinning, and handed her a bottle of beer dripping with condensation. "You can stop mothering everyone now, Leveret. Time to relax."

Eddi raised an eyebrow. "You're giving me permission?"

"Consider it captain's orders."

She took the bottle with a wry smile and twisted off the cap with a flick of her powers- the metal lid sailing neatly into a nearby bin.

"Show-off." Raff muttered, taking a long swig of his own drink.

Eddi leaned back against a tree, the bark rough through her jacket, the beer cold in her hand. Around her, her friends were already slipping into their usual rhythm- Lenny and Raff talking about next week's Bloodrush drills, Austin drifting in and out of sight as he swiped drinks from unsuspecting students, and Oliver perched high in a branch, wings half open to catch the glowing embers floating through the night.

For a while, it was easy- the laughter, the warmth of the firelight, the way the music seemed to pulse through the ground.

Then she caught sight of him.

Isaac Night- standing just at the edge of the fire's glow, posture taut, face unreadable. He looked as if someone had dragged him here against his will, which, knowing Gomez Addams, was probably true.

Eddi tore her eyes away before he could catch her looking. The last thing she needed was another round of barbed comments tonight.

She took a sip of her drink instead, letting the taste settle bitter and cold on her tongue, and told herself she didn't care that he was there.

But she did.

The fire cracked, sending a halo of sparks spiralling into the canopy. Music thumped from an enchanted speaker somewhere deeper in the woods, the rhythm syncing with the pulse of laughter and the shimmer of outcast powers lighting the clearing on waves.

Eddi tipped back the rest of her drink, feeling the fizz bite at her throat. The noise, the movement, the slight edge of tipsiness- it all dulled the ache that had sat in her chest since yesterday.

She was reaching for another bottle when a voice, warm and too familiar, cut through the noise.

"Well, if it isn't Nevermore's golden girl."

Eddi turned, already half-smiling "Conrad." She said, drawing out his name like a sigh. "Still walking around with that same grin, I see."

The Gorgon grinned wider, his curls already starting to twist slightly under his baseball cap, the faintest hiss betraying the serpents hidden among them. "And you still pretending you don't like it."

"Flattery's a cheap trick."

"Yeah, but it works."

He stepped closer, the firelight catching the edges of his sharp jaw and the silver chain around his throat. Conrad had always been like this- all swagger and laughter, muscles under his uniform shirt, no real sense of when to stop talking. The kind of boy Eddi knew exactly how to handle, because he was predictable. Safe, in his own reckless way.

"How's Caliban treating you?" he asked, leaning against the tree beside her. "Still holding your own with the boys, or have they finally realised you're the brains of the operation?"

Eddi smirked, "I think they realised that years ago."

He laughed, low and easy. "Still humble too."

She didn't answer. The warmth of the fire pressed against her skin, the drink buzzing in her veins. Conrad's gaze slid downward, and she caught the faintest flicker of a snake curling out from behind his ear before retreating again.

"I was just saying to the guys," he went on, "no one makes an entrance like Edrisse Leveret. You've got a whole pack of Caliban idiots orbiting you, a captain's title, and somehow you still look like you stepped out of a painting."

"That's the DaVinci genes for you."

"You mean the curse?"

"Same thing, really."

Conrad chuckled. He moved just a little closer, and Eddi didn't step away. There was a spark of something heady about it- a reminder of all the times last year when she'd let herself lean too far into distraction. He was good at that: making her forget.

Her lips curved faintly. "You always pick the wrong moments to talk to me, Medlar."

"And yet," he said, lowering his voice, "you never tell me to stop."

Eddi didn't reply. She could feel Isaac's eyes somewhere across the fire- she didn't have to look to know he was watching. It prickled under her skin, half irritation, half thrill. Maybe that was why she stayed where she was.

Conrad smiled, taking her silence as invitation. "So, you gonna dance with me, or do I have to turn to stone waiting."

"Cute," she said dryly, "You've been saving that one, haven't you?"

"Maybe."

"Then, no" she said, bushing past him lightly. "You'll have to come up with something better than a snake joke."

Conrad laughed, undeterred, and followed her toward the fire.

Eddi didn't look back, but she could feel the weight of Isaac's stare like static on her skin- the same kind of burn that came before a storm.

After a while of dancing in front of the flames, people too drunk or wrapped up in their own regretful dances to notice the Caliban Queen, courting a Thisbie jester. Eddi decided she wanted a little more fun, to soothe her restless week.

The deeper they moved into the forest, the quieter the world became. The thud of the music faded until only the chirring of cicadas and the faint hiss of rain dripping through the canopy remained.

Eddi's pulse was still racing from the dance- from Conrad's hands on her hips, from the way she'd caught Isaac's gaze just before she pulled Conrad into the dark. She hadn't planned this, but maybe that was why she was doing it.

Conrad stumbled after her, laughing under his breath. "Didn't peg you for the dirty stop out in the woods-type, Leveret." he said.

"Maybe you need to stop talking, or you'll ruin it for yourself."

"Understood."

They stopped beneath a twisted birch, the bark pale as bone in the firelight's distant glow. The ground was damp, and mist coiled around their ankles like breath. Eddi could feel the heat of Conrad's body close behind her, smell the faint metallic tang of his cologne and something older- earthier.

He reached for her hand. She didn't pull away. Instead, she turned, catching the corner of his mouth with a smirk. "You talk too much," she said softly.

Conrad grinned. "Then shut me up."

She did.

Without much hesitation, and with a hint of drunkenness, Eddi crashed her lips into his, feverishly enjoying the way they moved in-sync despite the build up of booze in their systems. Eddi placed her palms on his sharp jaw, to steady herself as she felt her head rush with hormones and the buzz of alcohol.

Conrad's hands went to the pockets of her jeans, roughly squeezing over the muscly flesh of her behind, hinting for her to allow him to lift her. Slamming her back into a tree, she gasped as the air in her lungs was knocked free and sucked down the gorgon's throat, as his tongue fought for dominance inside her mouth.

Balancing Eddi against the tree, Conrad's hand slipped from her ass to grope at her chest harshly, a sinful breathy moan tumbled between the sound of smacking lips and staggered breaths. He pinched her nipple through her shirt, feeling it harden under his playful touch, and Eddi felt herself growing wet through her jeans.

A branch cracked somewhere to their left.

Conrad froze, still half out of breath. "What was that?" he whispered, letting Eddi slide down the tree, back onto her own feet.

Eddi stilled, listening. The forest was thick with rain and shadow, but she could feel it- a presence watching, a flicker of something familiar tugging at the edges of her mind.

Her eyes adjusted slowly. Through the thin veil of mist, she caught sight of a figure just beyond the trees. The faint gleam of moonlight caught on his dark coat, the outline sharp, still.

"Isaac Night." she muttered, the name like a curse.

Conrad followed her gaze, brow furrowed. "You're kidding me. He's watching us?"

"Apparently."

"You want me to-?"

"No." Eddi's voice cut like glass. "Just go."

"Eddi-"

"Go."

Conrad hesitated, then shrugged, throwing Isaac a scowl before vanishing back through the trees.

Eddi stood there a moment, pulling her jacket straight, schooling her expression into something sharp enough to draw blood. Then she stalked forward, stopping just short of where Isaac stood half-shadowed beneath an oak.

"You make a habit of watching people fuck?" she said, her voice low, "Or am I just that fascinating to you?"

Isaac's jaw tightened. "You shouldn't have brought Francoise here."

"Excuse me?"

"She doesn't belong at these things- you know what they're like." his voice was cold, but his eyes burned.

“What a little bit of fun?” Eddi mocked, attempting to hide the way she swayed a little on her feet, “What’s the harm in that?”

"Look at you. Drunk…” Isaac gestured down her body with his eyes, it made Eddi feel a little uncomfortable and she pulled her jacket tighter around herself , “…and dropping your panties for the first moron who gives you a bit of attention? The celebrity really affects your judgment so much you’re willing to be defiled in the woods by a-what was that? a Gorgon?"

Eddi's lips twitched, half a laugh, half disbelief. "You followed me out here to lecture me on propriety? That's adorable."

"Someone should," Isaac snapped. "You act like none of this touches you, like you can just-"

"Because it doesn't," she cut in, voice rising. "You think you get to judge me because you've got that little storm cloud over your head? You don't know anything about me, Night."

"Then enlighten me," he said, stepping closer. "Because all I'm seeing is some desperate whore, trying to prove she's not falling apart."

The air between them crackled- literally. Eddi's telekinesis flared in a faint shimmer, the nearby leaves trembling as if caught in a wind.

"Careful," she said quietly, "You might not like what you find."

For a long second, neither of them moved. Then she turned sharply on her heel, leaving him in the dark, the scent of rain and ozone heavy in the air .

The weekend bled away in a blur of hangovers and regret.

Caliban Hall smelled faintly of smoke and stale beer- a patchwork of laughter and moans echoing through the walls as its residents attempted to recover from Friday night's chaos. Eddi spent most of Saturday and the subsequent Sunday under her quilt, nursing both a pounding headache and the heavy ache of hanxiety- the creeping dread that always followed a night of reckless fun.

She'd told herself a dozen times she didn't care what Isaac Night thought. That his stupid moralistic glares meant nothing. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw that look again- disappointment sharpened into contempt. It shouldn't have mattered. And yet, somehow, it did.

By the time the halls began to stir properly, she'd made a quiet vow to keep her distance- from Isaac, from Francoise, from anything that made her feel complicated.

The boys didn't notice, not really. Raff and Lenny were too busy trying to reassemble their memories of the party. Austin spent half the day nursing burn marks on his arms- courtesy of Vaughan's overenthusiastic pyro tricks- and Oliver nursed his bruised pride after crashing head-first into a tree while showing off.

Eddi laughed where she had to, joined their jokes where expected, but her heart wasn't in it. When Isaac crossed her path in the corridor- which happened more than once- she made a point of not even glancing in his direction. And when Francoise appeared outside the library on Sunday morning, clearly wanting to say something, Eddi turned on her heel and disappeared before the girl could open her mouth.

The ache in her arm hadn't returned, but something else had settled there instead- a low, restless hum beneath her skin, like the storm she'd walked away from in the woods had followed her home.

Monday morning arrived too soon- all fluorescent light and low groans from Caliban Hall.

Eddi moved on autopilot: hair pinned back, uniform immaculate, her sleeve pulled snug to hide the pale white scar that still ached faintly beneath the fabric. She wasn't in the mood for small talk, but Raff had walked her to class anyway, chattering about his failed attempt to heat breakfast with his hands, and how Austin had vanished mid-toast, reappearing half-burned.

“All I’m saying is I’m sensing a deep lack of trust from you lot, and I don’t like it.” Raff huffed, shaking his head disapproving.

Eddi licked her finger tips and extinguished a spike of hair on the top of his head, before answering, “I cannot imagine why.”

By the time she reached Advanced Physics and Experimental Mechanics, the headache behind her eyes had dulled into something manageable- and then she saw him.

Isaac Night, sliding into the room with Gomez Addams and Morticia Frump in tow.

Gomez looked infatuated, draping his arm around Morticia's waist as if she were air he couldn't live without. Morticia, cool and amused, traced a finger down his jaw in silent encouragement. Isaac trailed behind, looking faintly nauseated by their display, jaw tight as he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "God help me."

Professor Stonehearst clapped his hands together. "Ah! My young engineers of chaos! Today, we marry intellect with invention."

He waved toward the long workbenches lined with a pile of scrap metal, gears, cogs, broken clock parts, and a few mysterious objects that hummed faintly when touched.

"Your task," Stonehearst continued, "is simple: build something functional out of what you see here. It can fly, walk, crawl, or implode- so long as it works."

Austin would've called it chaos in a box. Eddi called it heaven.

She'd always had a love for machines- the quiet logic of them, the way they made sense when people didn't. With a flick of her wrist, a dozen pieces of metal floated toward her workspace, orbiting her head like small moons as she selected, sorted, and bent them with sharp precision.

Austin, who shared this class with her, watched, impressed. "You're showing off again, Ed."

Eddi smirked. "It's called talent, Gold. You should try it sometime."

Laughter rippled down the bench, though it cut short when Isaac set his own pile of scrap down across from her, sleeves rolled up, hands already moving.

She tried not to notice how deft her was- the way his fingers worked with his mechanical DaVinci; certainty, fast and exact, as if the pieces already knew where they belonged.

"Compensating for something, Night?" Eddi called, voice light, teasing.

He didn't look up. "Only your noise."

Austin snorted. "Ouch. That's cold."

Eddi's grin sharpened. "Don't worry, Austin, he's just bitter because I build faster and look better doing it."

That got a few chuckles. Isaac's gaze flicked up- brief, cutting, but there was something else behind it. Not just irritation. A flicker of intrigue, maybe even admiration, though he buried it quickly.

Within minutes, Eddi's workstation looked like organised chaos: three separate mechanisms moving under her telekinetic control- one assembling gears, one soldering joints with a heat wand, and one writing her notes in perfect cursive along the margin of her notebook.

Stonehearst wandered past, his eyebrows lifting. "Miss Leveret, I see you've taken the liberty of splitting your concentration again."

Eddi gave a modest smile. "Efficiency, Professor."

He chuckled. "Or showing off. Either way, it's magnificent."

Across the table, Isaac's jaw twitched. He didn't look up, but his hands moved faster, more aggressively, as if every turn of a screw was a silent retort.

By the end of the hour, Eddi's machine- a hovering brass dragonfly with delicate clockwork wings- buzzed gently on the edge of her desk, glowing faintly with soft blue light.

Isaac's creation was smaller: a clockwork frog encased in glass, pulsing faintly with a golden hue.

Both contraptions were flawless.

"Excellent work, both of you," Stonehearst said, beaming.

Eddi smiled, mainly feeling pride in herself, not bothered about sharing praise, she just admired her handy work. "Thank you, professor."

Isaac didn't respond- not aloud, anyway. But his stare said enough: a silent challenge, cool and dangerous, as the faint ticking of his mechanical heart filled the pause between them.

By the time the bell for lunch rang, the sharp scent of metal and oil still clung to Eddi's fingertips despite never touching her little invention physically. The little brass dragonfly- her newest mechanical muse- hovered loyally beside her shoulder as she and Austin made their way down the stone corridor toward the dining hall.

"You're not seriously bringing that thing to lunch, are you?" Austin asked, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes squinting at the creature's faint blue hum.

Eddi glanced at it fondly. "She's house-trained. Which is more than what I can say about you."

Austin gave her a phoney glare, but his face still cracked into a smile, "Until she lands in your soup."

"Then she’d be taking after Oliver."

Austin rolled his eyes, "You're insufferable."

Eddi smiled- the first real one in days- as they reached the wide oak doors to the dining hall, where the noise was already building like a thunderstorm. The Caliban boys were easy to spot: Raff's flame-tipped hair, Lenny's booming laugh, Oliver's wings flicking restlessly against his back.

"Ah, our little genius," Raff said, waving them over, "You missed the best part of Chemistry this morning. Fitts accidentally turned himself blue again."

Eddi smirked, sliding into her seat. "A tragedy for fashion. Such a shame my Advanced physics clashed with your groups chemistry, really feel like I’m missing out."

Raff knew Eddi was being sarcastic but he still pretended to wipe a fake tear, “At least Austin and Oliver can keep you company in my moments of absence.”

Eddi just gave him a roll of her eyes, but a small grin too.

Lenny leaned over, pointing to the dragonfly hovering beside her shoulder. "What's that? Your new pet?"

"Better conversationalist than you."

That earned a round of laughter- even from Austin, who'd already stolen a roll off her plate.

Before Lenny could retort or Eddi could steal her lunch back, Vittorie appeared, bright-eyed and breathless, carrying her tray with a sort of hesitant confidence. She slid neatly into the space beside her sister, brushing a few loose strands of hair from her face.

"Hi, Eddi."

Eddi smiled, her posture softening. "Hey, Vit. How was class?"

"Good! Oh, and- you'll never guess! They announced Ophelia's Bloodrush tryouts are tomorrow."

Eddi froze, fork halfway to her mouth. "Tryouts? Why are you worrying about those?"

“I wasn’t worrying. I’m excited.” Vittorie smiled eagerly. "And I want to go for it! I've been practicing- I'm not as fast as you yet, but-"

Eddi's stomach dropped, the dragonfly faltering mid-air before steadying again. For a heartbeat, the entire table blurred.

"Vitt, that's-" she forced a small laugh, "-that's sweet, but Ophelia doesn't take first years."

"They said they might this year!" Vittorie's grin widened. "Isadora's captain, she's letting anyone brave enough to show up."

At the mention of Isadora, Eddi's jaw tightened. "Vitt if Isadora has opened her mouth, nothing good as ever come of it.”

“I don’t know about that, Lenny might be able to attest to her “skills” after last Fri-“

“Shut the fuck up.” Lenny kicked Raff hard under the table. Eddi fired glares at the both of them, giving a look of “we’ll discuss this later” before turning back to Vittorie, who was still buzzing like an excited puppy.

“Either way," she said flatly, "You don't want to go near that field."

"Why not?" Vittorie frowned. "You played in your first year."

"That was different."

Across the table, Raff whistled low. "Aw, come on, Ed. Let the kid have a go. Bloodrush builds character."

"Yeah," Lenny added through a mouthful of food, "and bone density. Sometimes both at once."

Eddi shot him a look sharp enough to cut steel. "Not helping, Lenny. And what have I told you about eating with your mouth full."

Oliver leaned back in his seat, grinning. "I dunno, Ed. She's got that Leveret spark. Maybe it runs in the family."

The words hit harder than they knew. The scar on Eddi's forearm began to pulse- a slow, searing ache that made her fingers twitch against her sleeve. She forced herself to smile, to breathe through the fire crawling under her skin.

"You'd just get hurt," she said carefully, her voice low now, private between them. "Bloodrush isn't for-"

"-girls?" Vittorie snapped, surprising her, "That's what everyone says. But you play?"

The words stung. Eddi looked at her sister's face- flushed, defiant- and the ache n her arm flared again, sharper this time. The vow was responding to her fear, punishing her for failing to protect.

She couldn't show it. Not here.

Eddi forced a breath, forced her mouth into something like a grin, "Fine," she said tightly. "Try out. Just...don't come home with a black eye. It'll ruin our family reputation."

Vittorie beamed, none the wiser. "I won't! I promise!"

The boys cheered her on, raising their cups in mock salute.

But Eddi's hand stayed clenched under the table, sleeve tugged low, as the faint burn of her lightning-shaped scar throbbed a warning she couldn't ignore.

Eddi tried to tell herself she wasn't nervous.

That the sick twist in her stomach was just ordinary sisterly concern. That the dull pulse in her forearm- faint and rhythmic beneath the sleeve of her uniform- was nothing but her imagination.

But every time she thought of Vittorie standing out there on the Bloodrush pitch, small and brave and so stupidly hopeful, that pulse deepened. Like her scar could taste what was coming.

She'd spent most of the day pretending otherwise. Pretending to be excited. Pretending to listen when Vittorie babbled on about training and tactics, about how she'd been practicing her aerial turns and how Francoise had offered to help her keep balance in flight. Eddi smiled and nodded and even offered a few pieces of advice- the right shoes for the turf, how to read the pitch's terrain shifts, when to pass the Wraithstone instead of forcing a run- but each word felt like it was scraping raw against her throat.

Every time she looked at her little sister's face, all she saw was the blood that might come.

By mid-afternoon, Eddi was pacing the common room in Caliban Hall, her textbook open but unread, the dragonfly from yesterday's project resting quietly on her shoulder. The boys were out- Raff and Lenny at extra practice with their new bruiser, Orion; Austin vanishing his way into trouble somewhere, likely to be Puck Hall, Oliver likely asleep on the roof again. The quiet should have been a relief, but it only left her alone with her thoughts.

She'd tried to write a letter to her father again that morning, but the ink had blotted the parchment when her hand started to tremble. Every draft ended the same way- a line half-formed, a sentence strangled mid-thought. What was she supposed to say? You're hurting them again. Stop. Please.

He'd only laugh.

So instead, she'd channelled her worry into fussing. Into packing Vittorie's kitbag for her after classes- gloves, mouthguard, a spare charm for balance, even a small stitched token from her own uniform that she'd tucked secretly inside one of the pockets. A protective thing. A sister's silent prayer.

Now, as the afternoon began to fade toward evening, she found herself sitting at the window in her attic dorm, watching the sky bruise violet and gold, the first torches beginning to glow along the Bloodrush field far below.

The tryouts weren't until seven. But she could already feel the vow humming low beneath her skin- restless, warning, alive.

Rainclouds had gathered again over the Nevermore pitch, thick and low, turning the world a dull silver-grey. The kind of sky that always seemed to hover over Bloodrush practice- heavy, electric, full of something waiting to break.

Eddi stood just behind the boundary wards, her hands shoved into her coat pockets, watching the Ophelia team assemble for tryouts. Lenny was beside her, arms folded, his bulk cutting a broad silhouette against the misty field. He looked every bit the captain- confident, unbothered- but Eddi knew he was here less for scouting rivals and more to make sure she didn't spontaneously combust from nerves.

"You know," Lenny began casually, "most people would be rooting for their sister instead of glaring at her like she's about to commit a crime."

Eddi didn't look at him. Her eyes were fixed on Vittorie, who stood near the centre line, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she adjusted her gloves. "Most people don't have a family like mine."

"What's that suppose to mean?" Lenny scowled, his brow furrowing, but Eddi just shrugged him off, unwilling to provide further information, instead he chose to change the subject, "Still, she looks good out there. Confident."

Eddi's jaw tightened. "She looks small."

"It'll mean that she's quick, though. She’s half the size you were when you started."

"Exactly."

The whistle blew, sharp and shrill. The Wraithstone sprang to life, pulsing violet light across the slick ground. Eddi's stomach knotted.

Vittorie took flight almost immediately- her body blurring, feathers bursting from her arms in a shimmer of dark gold and copper. Her avian form wasn't quite any species Eddi recognised- something between a kestrel and a hawk, but bigger, broader, her wings thrumming with unspent potential.

She was beautiful. Terrifyingly so.

But all Eddi could feel was the ache.

It started as a whisper- the faintest hum under her skin- and then, as Vittorie dove for the Wraithstone, it spiked into a deep, twisting burn that made her hand curl into a fist inside her pocket.

She bit her lip hard, tasting copper.

The crowd of students shouted as another player- a siren from Ophelia's second year, lifted by a fellow DaVinci- slammed into Vittorie mid-air, sending her spinning sideways. Eddi flinched like she'd been struck herself.

Lenny's eyes flicked toward her. "Hey. You okay?"

"Fine," she said, too quickly.

"You don't look fine. You're-"

"I said I'm fine, Len."

He frowned. "You've been wound up all week, Ed. Talk to me. You're not-"

She forced a weak laugh, rubbing her arm like it was just a chill. "I just need the bathroom okay? Too much adrenaline. Or caffeine. Or both."

"Eddi-"

"Stay," she interrupted, nodding toward the pitch.. "She'll want someone she knows watching when she scores. Make sure she sees you."

Before he could argue, she turned and walked away- briskly, head down- the sound of the crowd fading behind her. Each step sent another pulse of pain up her forearm, a sick, rhythmic throb that crawled toward her shoulder.

She didn't look back. She didn't need to. She could feel it all.

Eddi barely made it through the arched doors that led beneath the stands. The noise of the field was still faintly there- a ripple of cheers and groans carried by the rain- but down in the old stone corridor it was cold and still, the kind of place sound went to die.

She braced one hand against the wall, breathing in short, ragged bursts. The pain in her arm had gone from a dull heat to a tearing, molten agony. It was alive, crawling under her skin.

Her coat slipped from her shoulders; she yanked her jumper over her head, half stumbling as her vision blurred. The scar- that twisted, silvery seam she'd tried to forget- was no longer smooth. It was splitting, fissures running along the old mark, pulsing red. The skin throbbed with every heartbeat, like the wound itself was breathing.

She bit down on a cry, forcing herself to stay quiet, her back pressed to the cold wall.

Vittorie's pain was echoing through her, each blow on the pitch mirrored in fire beneath her skin.

"Stop, stop, stop," she whispered through clenched teeth, her eyes wet, her breath catching. "You're fine, Vitt. You're fine. Please be fine..."

Her knees gave slightly, and she slid down the wall, pressing her arm tight against her chest. The corridor smelled of damp and iron, and she could hear the faint drip of water from the ceiling.

Then another sound- a shuffle, a footstep- and she froze.

"Didn't think the oh-so-powerful Leveret would be caught whimpering in the shadows."

Eddi's head snapped up. Isaac Night stood a few paces away, half in shadow, his expression unreadable. His tie was undone, his sleeves rolled, and there was that same detached smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

She startled, instinctively pulling her jumper over her lap, to cover her arm, her breathing ragged. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Heard crying," he said dryly, his eyes flicking toward her face, then her arm, hidden under the wool bunched in her lap, "Or did the great and powerful, Leveret not want an audience for once?"

Her temper, thin and trembling, flared. "Get out, Night."

He tilted his head. "You look awful. Do you want a nurse, or maybe your fan club of half-wit invalids.

Her voice cracked like ice. "I said- get. Out."

He took a slow step closer, lowering his tone. "You act like you're made of steel, Edrisse. But here you are, sobbing in the dark. Pathetic."

Eddi pushed herself upright, using the wall, rage and pain twisting together, her scar burning bright beneath the jumper she had now wrapped around her forearm. "Watch it, Isaac," she hissed, "You might be mistaking weakness for restraint."

For a heartbeat, neither of them moved- her eyes blazing, his calm cracking just enough to show surprise.

Eddi pushed past Isaac, her shoulder clipping his, but the motion sent another spike of pain lancing up her arm. The world seemed to tilt; she sucked in a breath through her teeth. Beneath the bundle of her jumper, the scar pulsed like molten glass, and before she could stop it, a thin line of blood slipped down her fingertips, bright against the dim light of the corridor.

Isaac saw it. The smirk vanished. His gaze flicked to her hand- then to her face- and for once, he didn't seem to have a single cutting remark ready.

"Edrisse..."

"Don't." She tried to step away, but another surge of agony hit and her knees buckled. She caught herself on the wall, breath shuddering, trying to hide her trembling hand in the folds of her jumper.

Isaac moved forward, hesitant at first, as if afraid she might blast him into the stone. "You're bleeding."

"I said-leave me."

"Stop being stubborn for one minute," he snapped, voice low but sharp. "You can't even stand."

"I don't need your pity."

"Good," he bit back, "Because that's not on offer." He crouched slightly, one hand hovering near her elbow, not quite touching. "You need to move before someone sees you like this."

"I need to find Vittorie-"

"No," he interrupted, tone steely. "You need to stop pretending you're fine." His eyes flicked toward the corridor entrance where faint laughter drifted in from the field. "If Caliban's golden girl collapses in the hall, that'll travel faster than lightning. Is that what you want?"

Eddi glared up at him, furious but unsteady. "You don't know anything about what I want."

"Maybe not," he said quietly, "but I know what'll happen if you keep standing here bleeding all over the floor."

He extended a hand- not soft, not kind, but certain. "Come on."

She didn't take it. "I said I don't need-"

"Fine," he muttered, straightening, "but you're coming anyway." He turned and pressed his palm against a section of the wall behind him. The stone shifted with a low grind, revealing a narrow passageway lit but faint, phosphorescent runes.

Eddi stared, momentarily forgetting her pain.

"No one will see," Isaac said, already stepping aside to let her pass. His tone softened, almost imperceptibly. "You can hate me later."

Eddi hesitated, clutching her wounded arm tight to her chest. The throbbing had dulled to a deep ache now, but she could feel the wet warmth of blood through the fabric.

With a glare sharp enough to slice stone, she stepped past him into the hidden passage.

Isaac followed, the wall sealing behind them with a sigh, swallowing the world- and its witnesses- whole.

The passageway swallowed them in shadow and the scent of old stone. The air was cool, damp- the kind that clung to skin and made every sound seem louder than it was. Their footsteps echoed in uneven rhythm, his steady, hers faltering.

Eddi walked a step behind, one hand pressed tight to her arm, feeling the blood seeping warm through the wool of her jumper. Her head pounded. Every throb of her pulse sent another flare of pain up the scar, but she didn't make a sound.

Isaac didn't speak either. His silhouette moved ahead, tall and rigid, lit only by the flicker of runes along the wall. He knew these tunnels- walked them like he'd built them himself.

Eddi's boot caught on a jut of uneven stone, and before she could stumble, something invisible steadied her- a pressure at her elbow, firm bit precise.

She blinked. "You planning to show off every five minutes, Night?" her nostrils twitched, "Parlour tricks and all."

"Only when it keeps you from face-planting," he said dryly, not looking back.

"Careful. Is that a real heartbeat I can hear?" Eddi mocks, shaking off the invisible hand at the crook of her elbow, wincing when it causes a slither of pain. "Chivalry suits you. You should try it more often."

He made a quiet sound that could've been a laugh or a scoff. "Don't get used to it."

They continued, the silence between them thick but not entirely hostile.

After a moment, Eddi's voice broke through the quiet, "Where exactly are we going? Or are you luring me somewhere so you can finally get rid of your competition?"

He glanced over his shoulder, a faint gleam catching in his eyes. "Tempting as that is, no. The professors at Nevermore tend to appreciate my mind. Despite your...attempts to overshadow it."

"Attempts?" she echoed, arching a brow, the corner of her mouth curving despite herself. "That's cute."

Isaac slowed, his expression flat but his eyes narrowing just slightly. "You're bleeding through that thing, and you're still insufferable."

"Multitasking. It's one of my gifts."

He exhaled, a trace of reluctant amusement in the sound. "Of course it is."

The tunnel began to slope upwards, the air changing- less damp, carrying a faint scent of oil, metal, and chemicals.

"The professors thought it best I have somewhere to work uninterrupted," he said finally, "Quiet. Controlled. Away from the racket you and your entourage cause in the library."

"Noise," she repeated, smirking again. "That's what you call intellectual simulation."

"That's what I call chaos."

Ahead, a narrow staircase spiralled upward, light flickering faintly from the top. When they emerged, Eddi blinked against the sudden brightness.

They were in a wide, circular chamber- all brass and gears and glass, the air humming faintly with power and machinery. Blueprints littered the tables. Half-assembled devices ticked and whirred on benches. A single large window looked out toward the misty spires of Nevermore.

Eddi turned slowly, taking it in. "Iago Tower," she breathed. "I thought this was sealed off."

Isaac moved past her, rolling up his sleeves. "Most people think so. That's why I like it."

Eddi leaned against a workbench, trying to mask the way her arm shook. "So this is your little kingdom of solitude."

He met her gaze, expression unreadable. "Something like that. Sit down before you fall down, Leveret." He flicked his fingers and a chair pulled itself from a corner, landing next to her feet.

For once, she didn't argue.

Eddi tried to take in the room around her, anything to pull focus from the dull roar of pain in her arm. The air hummed faintly with magic and motion- cogs shifting, pendulums ticking, a delicate steam-driven model of a raven spreading metal wings from one corner. She couldn't help herself. She reached out, fingers hovering just above a line of sketches spread across the bench beside her: clockwork limbs, gliders, something that looked almost like a mechanical heart.

'Probably his.' she thought. 'Is that what it looks like...it's beautiful.'

The designs were all beautiful- precise and meticulous in a way that made her stomach twist with both admiration and envy.

Before she could read more than a few measurements, the blueprints snapped into a tight roll and floated neatly to Isaac's side.

"Curiosity kills clever girls," he said, setting them aside without even looking up.

She shot him a look. "Then consider me immortal."

Isaac didn't answer. He'd already crossed the room, collecting a bowl of clean water, a vial of clear antiseptic, and a strip of linen from one of his drawers. When he returned, he set them down in front of her with mechanical precision.

"Arm," he said simply, holding out his hand.

Eddi didn't move. She sat there, the jumper wound tight around her forearm, blood already seeping through the wool. She met his gaze through her lashes, jaw set.

"I said, arm." His voice was calm, but the command in it made her breath hitch before she could stop it.

"It's fine," she lied, but even to her own ears the words sounded thin.

Isaac's eyes flicked to the fabric, to the way it glistened dark under the lamplight. "You're bleeding all over my floor. It's not fine."

He didn't raise his voice- he didn't need to. There was a gravity to him here, in this room. He was composed, assured, every movement deliberate.

"You really don't like giving up control, do you?" he said, softer now, "Even when you're clearly needing help."

Something fluttered uncomfortably in her chest- irritation, defiance, and something else she didn't want to name. She stared at him, then at his outstretched hand, clean lined waiting.

With a small, angry exhale, she began unwrapping the jumper.

The soaked fabric peeled away slowly, clinging to her skin. Beneath it, her forearm was a mess of crimson and lightning white- the scar split and raw, ridged like burning glass. The wound looked as though it had been carved by an electric volt.

Isaac didn't flinch. If anything, he leaned closer, expression unreadable but eyes sharp with focus.

Eddi couldn't quite meet his gaze. She swallowed hard, her breath uneven.

"Fascinating," he murmured- not in mockery, but with something like reverence. "It's not natural. It's...alive."

She tensed at that, watching the way his slim, efficient fingers dipped the cloth in water. When he pressed it gently to her arm, the sting made her hiss through her teeth.

"Hold still," he said quietly.

The tone wasn't cruel. It was careful. Controlled.

She watched him work- the precision of his movements, the way his hands moved in perfect time with one another. His face was unmoved, but his touch was surprisingly gentle. It made her throat tighten for reasons that had nothing to do with pain.

When he finally spoke again, his voice was lower. "What is it?"

Eddi met his eyes, and for a long moment she didn't answer.

Just a dark, defiant look. A silent challenge that said: you don't need to know.

The lamplight caught the gleam of his dark eyes as he held her arm steady. For the first time, she noticed how human he looked in this strange light- and how inhumanly calm.

Eddi pulled her arm back the moment the last streak of dried blood was gone. The movement was quick, almost defiant, the same way a wounded animal hides its limp.

Isaac's hand lingered midair, fingers twitching slightly before he straightened. "It still needs to be bound," he said, already reaching for the linen again.

"It'll close on its own," she cut in. Her voice was sharp, the kind of sharp that only came when she was fighting not to sound afraid. "I just need to find my sister."

"You're not going anywhere like that."

"Watch me."

She stood, meaning to make good on the threat, but her balance wavered- just enough for him to notice. His brow furrowed, and he took a small step forward. "Sit down, Eddi. I'm not asking."

Something inside her snapped. "Back off, Night," she said, and the air between them tightened, his hand reached for her arm, but it had stopped a few inches away.

For a heartbeat neither of them moved. Then he spoke- quiet, measured, every word deliberate.

"You hide behind power," he said, "because you're terrified of being powerless."

The words hit harder than they should have. Maybe because there wasn't a trace of mockery in his tone- only precision, like he was diagnosing a fault in one of his machines.

Eddi froze, mouth half open but with nothing to say. Her instinct was to snarl, to throw something, to remind him who she was. But his gaze held hers, and there was something in it she couldn't name- steadiness, maybe, or understanding she didn't want.

She hated that he looked so calm while she could feel her pulse in her throat.

"I'm not terrified of anything," she managed finally, though her voice sounded thin even to her own ears.

Isaac tilted his head, that slight, infuriating smirk flickering over his lips. "No," he said softly, "You're just bleeding yourself dry to prove it."

The words sank into the space between them like a blade laid carefully on a table.

Eddi swallowed, forcing herself to meet his eyes again. "You think you know me," she said, low and steady.

"I know what I see," he replied. "You'd rather break than bend."

Her jaw tightened. "Then maybe you should stop watching."

For a moment, she thought he might actually smile- not mockingly, but almost impressed. Then he stepped back, hands slipping into his pockets as if nothing had happened.

"Suit yourself," he said, "The tower door will seal behind you."

Eddi didn't trust herself to speak. She turned sharply, storming toward the stairwell, jumper clutched around her arm once more.

But as she stepped into the dim light of the corridor, she couldn't shake the sound of his voice, low and calm and unflinching- bleeding yourself dry to prove it.

It followed her all the way back through the passageway.

When Eddi finally lowered the violin, her arms ached and her throat felt raw, though she hadn’t spoken a word. The last notes of Für Elise hung in the air like mist, curling toward the ceiling before dissolving into silence.

She turned toward the window, half expecting another retort from Isaac; another cutting remark to ruin the fragile stillness, but when she looked back, the doorway was empty. He’d gone as quietly as he’d arrived.

For a long time, she just stood there, bow loose in her hand, unsure whether she felt relief or disappointment. The room still seemed to hum faintly with his presence, and she hated herself for noticing.

By morning, she’d convinced herself to forget about it. She'd spent the rest of the night at Vittorie's bedside. At first she'd only held her hand, then when Vittorie stirred awake asking for her, she could do nothing but oblige. Slipping into the bed, pulling the blanket over the two of them. Vittorie rested her head on Eddi's chest as best she could, with a wince and whimper, keeping her wounded arm clutched close to her chest.

Eddi played with the end of Vittorie's hair, twirling it between her fingers, the gentle motion lulling them both into a slumber.

The following morning, Vittorie was discharged from the infirmary, bruised and bandaged, but smiling bravely when the boys came to help collect her. Raff wrapped an arm around her shoulder and promised, half sternly, that the next person to hurt her would regret it.

After that, life at Nevermore stumbled back into its idea of normal. Classes. Bloodrush practice. Homework that never ended.

Eddi laughed with the Caliban boys in the common room, barked at them during training, and even managed to avoid Isaac Night for two whole days, though she still caught him glancing at her during lectures, that inscrutable look returning whenever she thought the week had settled.

By the time Friday came, even she had started to believe the storm between them might have passed.

The afternoon came, Eddi was running purely on caffeine and adrenaline. The final class of the week-  Advanced Physics with Professor Stonehearst- Eddi was sitting up eagerly, two pens working feverishly in sync, one in her hand, the other being pushed line for line by an invisible force. Each scribble was just as neat as the next despite the pace Eddi was working at.

Oliver and Austin, on the other hand, were very much not enthralled.

Austin was using a stray spring to flick paper balls into Oliver's hair, while Oliver was covertly trying to balance a wrench on the tip of his wing. The feathered limb kept twitching at odd intervals, making the wrench spin wildly before clattering to the floor with a sharp clang.

Stonehearst’s head twitched toward them. “Mr. Gold, Mr. Squabbs — if your creative application of physics continues to be so much more distracting than what I have to say, perhaps you’d like to demonstrate it for the class?”

Both boys mumbled apologies. Folding their arms and leaning hard on their forearms, both attempting to keep themselves from slamming their foreheads into the wooden desk in front of them.

Eddi smirked, leaning forward with her chin on her palm. “Idiots,” she muttered, though her voice was affectionate.

But her attention snapped back to the board as Stonehearst began sketching the outline of a mechanical joint- fluid, elegant, the kind of structure that made her fingertips itch for a wrench and an hour of uninterrupted work.

Isaac Night was a few desks away, silent as always, his own DaVinci causing his pen to click softly as he took notes. When Eddi risked a glance, he was already watching her, or rather, studying her, and she quickly ducked her head back to her notebook.

Stonehearst cleared his throat as the final minutes of class ticked away. “Now,” he said, “before I release you degenerates to your weekend, there’s a small matter of your next homework assignment.”

Groans rippled through the room. From everyone except Isaac and Eddi. Eddi's lips twitched into a gleeful smile, whilst Isaac's doe eyes seem to lighten.

Stonehearst smiled like a cat with a trapped bird. “You will be working in pairs to design and construct a fully functional kinetic device — something that demonstrates precision engineering, creativity, and understanding of mechanical dynamics.”

Austin perked up immediately when he heard the word "pairs", leaning across Eddi to whisper harshly to Oliver. “Dibs on Eddi.”

“Not a chance,” Oliver hissed. “She’s mine, you’d just disappear the moment it came to hard work anyway. Tell him Ed.”

Their whispering swiftly turned into a full-blown squabble- pencil pokes, muttered threats, Eddi did nothing, but roll her eyes, leaning back with a huff, as she avoided the tossing of erasers and rulers- until Stonehearst’s voice sliced through the noise.

“Enough! Gold and Squabbs, be quiet!”

Both froze.

“As fascinating as it is to watch you bicker like hyenas over Miss Leveret’s favour,” Stonehearst continued dryly, “I’ve already taken the liberty of assigning partners myself.”

Eddi’s stomach dropped. She preferred working with either Austin or Oliver, because usually neither would provide her with much insight or distraction, leaving her entirely to her own devices to create and invent.

Stonehearst scanned the room, eyes glinting behind his spectacles. “I’ve paired each of you to ensure the best possible use of your… complementary talents.”

He began reading names off his list. The room buzzed with quiet excitement and dread as pairs were called out: "Gold and Bulwark."

"Oh fuck." Austin slapped his forehead, vanishing as punctuation, his grumbles blindly echoing throughout the atmosphere. Jared Bulwark raised his head from folded arms, his lips were crusted with drool where he'd clearly fallen asleep, a while ago. He was a large boy, and everyone knew, with a brain that wasn't as large as his stomach.

"Squabbs and Mandrake."

"Okay that's kinda a result." Oliver smirked, turning in his chair to look at the vampiric, Flora Mandrake, giving her a coy wave, as she rolled her eyes. Flora was very pretty, with mild intelligence, and Oliver had, had a crush on her since the beginning of Nevermore.

Then finally:

“…and finally, Leveret and Night.”

The words hit the room like a thunderclap.

Oliver’s jaw dropped. Austin groaned audibly somewhere distant. A few students exchanged incredulous glances.

Eddi blinked, certain she’d misheard.

"Sorry Professor, what did you say?" Eddi asked, her pens had stilled, the ink was pooling on the page, as she unintentionally pushed it harder into the paper.

"You and Mr. Night," Stonehearst met her eye with a faint smile. “I expect big things from the two of you.”

Isaac didn’t move, but his gaze found hers across the room, sharp and unreadable.

Eddi felt her pulse quicken.

"But, Professor-"

“Dismissed,” Stonehearst said, waving a hand toward the door, the final bell of the day tolled, drowning out Eddi's protests.

The class erupted into noise as everyone scrambled to freedom.

Eddi stayed seated for a moment, still staring at the board, until she realised Isaac hadn’t moved either. He was still sitting there, notebook shut, eyes fixed on her with the faintest hint of what might have been a smirk.

"Want us to leave you to it?" Oliver wiggled his brows, which earned him a harsh elbow to the gut. "That's a yes then." He managed to strangle out, feeling very winded.

Oliver collected his things, grabbing Austin's bag and chucking it into the room. Austin suddenly appeared as he stumbled to catch it, grumbling something like 'unnecessary', but followed Oliver out regardless.

Chatter fading down the corridor until only two voices remained, the soft rustle of Professor Stonehearst gathering his papers, and the steady tick, tick, tick of the wall clock above the blackboard.

Eddi shoved her notebook into her bag with a thud. “Professor, with all due respect,” she began, crossing to his desk, “I really think it would be more effective if I worked alone.”

Stonehearst didn’t even glance up, busy stacking sheets into a neat pile. “You may think that, Miss Leveret. It doesn’t mean it’s good for you.”

“I work better alone,” she said, more forcefully this time.

Now he did look at her, that faint smile ghosting his lips. “You and Mr. Night are two of the most physically gifted minds in this institution. You can thank me later when your combined brilliance wins Caliban another academic trophy.”

Eddi’s jaw tightened. “That’s not—”

“My word is final.” Stonehearst clapped the last of the chalk dust from his hands, tucking the eraser into its tray. “Good evening to you both.”

Before she could protest again, he swept from the room, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click.

Silence.

Eddi stood there, one hand still gripping the strap of her satchel, the other clenched at her side. Isaac was still sitting in his seat, one leg lazily crossed over the other, expression impassive as always.

“Well,” he said after a beat, “that was… mean.”

Eddi scowled, turning away as she began to gather her things. “Don’t start.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he replied smoothly.

“You didn’t have to. I could hear the smugness.” She shoved a stray paper into her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “Don’t get too comfortable, Night. I’ve no intention of wasting my weekend babysitting your ego.”

Isaac tilted his head slightly, watching her with that maddening calm. “When are you free, then?”

“I’m not,” she said without missing a beat. “Bloodrush practice all weekend.”

He gave a low hum, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Of course. Because chasing a ball through the mud is a much better use of your intellect.”

She turned, fire sparking in her eyes. “We've had this discussion before, Night. You've started to repeat yourself. Really placing the emphasis on the mad part of scientist. It's not about rolling around in the mud, it’s called teamwork.”

“Ah, yes,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “The very thing you're getting your DaVinci in a twist over, as...we...speak."

Eddi’s glare could have melted steel. “If you think I’m going to let you ruin my credit with whatever monstrosity you conjure up in that little lair of yours, you're not as bright as you pretend to be.”

“Likewise,” Isaac said evenly. “I don’t plan on rebuilding the wreckage you’ll make of it with your priorities esquewed.”

She slammed her palms on the desk in front of him with a loud slap, but Isaac did not flinch, his lips twitching as Eddi huffed. “You’re impossible.”

“So I’ve been told,” he said mildly, rising from his seat at last. His height, his quiet confidence, both felt somehow amplified in the empty room.

Eddi rolled her eyes and made for the door. “Fine. You want to ‘work together’? You can come find me after practice tomorrow. I’ll make sure you get a proper education in real mechanics.”

Isaac smirked faintly as she reached for the handle. “Looking forward to it, Leveret.”

She didn’t turn back, but the sharpness of her steps down the corridor said enough.

Isaac stood there for a moment longer, eyes narrowing thoughtfully toward the door she’d disappeared through, before glancing at the half-wiped equations on the blackboard, muttering to himself,

“Teamwork. What could possibly go wrong?”

>

Caliban Hall always felt a little too alive, especially on a Friday evening. By the time Eddi made it back to her attic room, the boys had already claimed it like it was a communal property.

Austin half-lying on her bed with a book over his face, Raff perched backward on her desk chair, Lenny sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the small fire, and Oliver balancing dangerously on the window ledge with a pen tucked behind one ear.

Eddi didn't have the energy to scold them for once again entering her room without permission. Instead, she stood over Raff till he hobbled off her desk chair, joining Lenny in a tackled heap on the floor.

Taking the desk for herself, she spilled the contents of her bag onto the worn wood; her notebook falling open to her previous pages of sketches of botanics, pens clattering irritably against the surface, catching them with her DaVinci before they could hit the floor.

“Could you lot not break anything for five minutes?” she muttered, as Austin’s hand slapped a half finished model off her bedside table, as he stretched blindly with the book over his face.

“Relax, Ed,” Raff said lazily, catching it before it hit the floor. “We’re just keeping morale up before Bloodrush practice tomorrow.”

Lenny grinned. “Yeah, we’re team bonding. You should be proud.”

“I’ll be proud when you all finish your essays,” she said, flicking a look over her shoulder. “And stop using my room as a commune.”

Oliver looked up from the window. “Speaking of essays—”

Austin cut him off, smirking. “You should’ve seen her face earlier in Physics.”

Eddi didn’t even look up. “Don’t start.”

Lenny’s grin spread like wildfire. “Oh, we are starting. We heard, Leveret. Golden boy and Squawky told us all about it. You and Night.”

Raff whistled. “Isaac Night? Our very own prince of perpetual misery?”

Austin rolled over onto his back, kicking his heels in mock glee. “Stonehearst really said, ‘let’s make sparks fly.’”

“Stop it,” Eddi said, though there was a reluctant flicker of a smile tugging at her mouth.

Lenny nudged her foot with his. “So what’s the project? Something explosive, I hope. You two could probably build a death ray before breakfast.”

“Something to do with kinetic conduction,” Eddi said, still not looking up. “And I’ll build it myself, thank you.”

“Bet he’s already drafting blueprints,” Austin teased. “Probably has a secret room somewhere full of half-finished doom machines.”

Raff barked a laugh. “Please, you know he does. He looks like he irons his lab coat before bed.”

Eddi laughed with them, because that was what they expected, and maybe that comment about the lab coat, was something which had crossed her mind before- but even as the sound left her mouth, a thin thread of guilt coiled in her chest.

She could still see the way Isaac’s hands had moved when he’d cleaned her arm, the quiet steadiness of him. The way he had sat on that little chair in the music room, listening intently as she played a symphony of Bach and Vivaldi. His eyes had looked at her, not cruel, not pitying. Just curious.

Austin threw a crumpled page at her. “Earth to Leveret. You planning to daydream through practice too?”

Eddi blinked, refocusing. “No. Just wondering how I'm going to survive a weekend full of you lot.”

Lenny leaned back on his palms, smirking. “You sure that’s what’s bothering you? At least you can spend your evenings with your knight in lab coated armour."

She threw the paper ball back at him, hitting him square in the chest. “You’re hilarious.”

The room erupted in laughter again, filling the narrow attic space with the kind of warmth that could only exist between people who’d bled together on the field. But as the noise settled, and they all drifted into their own pockets of conversation, Eddi’s smile faltered.

Her mind betrayed her , replaying Isaac’s low, measured voice: 

'You hide behind power...because you're terrified of being powerless'

And for the first time, she didn’t know whether to laugh at him… or agree.

>

The field was half-frozen and half-mud, the kind of morning that bit at skin and bone. The sky hung pale and silver, a bruise of dawn spreading slowly behind the mountains and forest.

Eddi’s breath smoked in front of her as she jogged across the pitch, the Wraithstone pulsing faintly on its pedestal at the centre. It hummed like a living thing, hungry even before the whistle blew.

Around her, Caliban’s team stretched and grumbled. Lenny rolled his shoulders, steam rising off his bare arms, claws already half-out. Raff struck a match between his fingers and lit his breath for warmth; Vaughan joined him, laughing as little flares danced in the mist. Oliver was muttering about the cold, his wings twitching irritably beneath his playing cloak.

Eddi pulled her gloves tighter, staring out across the field. She could already feel the low vibration of the Wraithstone in her bones, the thrum that always made her pulse quicken. Normally, that was the only thing she thought about at this hour. But not today.

Today, Isaac Night had taken root somewhere behind her ribs.

The thought of him, of the look he’d given her in that hidden tower, the steadiness of his hands, the words he’d said, pressed against her skull like a bruise. The thought of him watching her play the violin, the thought of him asking her to play...for him. And then there was the other thought: the fact she’d have to face him again after practice. Work with him. Sit close enough to hear his heartbeat.

She shook herself. Focus, Leveret.

“Oi, co-cap,” Lenny’s voice snapped through the fog. “You alive in there?”

Eddi blinked. “Barely.”

He grinned, tossing her the practice ball. “Good. I need you running patterns with Max and Oliver. Bruisers’ll take first defence. Austin’s got goal.”

“Copy that,” she said, catching the ball one-handed. It jolted her fingers, even the fake Wraithstones didn’t like to be handled for long.

Across the field, the rest of the team fell into motion. Runners darted, Strikers circled like wolves, Bruisers thundered down the line. The air filled with shouts, flashes of flame, sparks, the slap of boots on wet earth.

Eddi ran. The cold burned her lungs, and it felt good, clean. Max’s telekinetic push launched the ball her way, and she caught it mid-slide, rolling to her feet in one fluid movement. Oliver soared above, wings beating the fog into whorls.

For a while, there was no Isaac. No scar. No vow. Just Bloodrush - the only language she ever needed.

When the whistle blew to end the drill, she doubled over, panting, her hair clinging damply to her neck. The Wraithstone’s hum dimmed, and so did the spell of focus she’d fought to hold.

“Good run,” Lenny said, clapping her shoulder. His claws had barely retracted; she winced under the pressure.

“Could have been better though. Next practice I want us to do circuits.”

He smirked. “That’s the spirit.”

As the others started joking, their voices carrying across the frozen pitch, Eddi found herself glancing toward the school, its towers cutting through the pale morning light. Somewhere up there, Isaac was probably already awake, sketching out blueprints or sharpening his mind like a blade.

She hated that she knew that. Hated more that she wondered if he’d thought of her, too.

>

The old lift creaked and groaned as it carried Eddi toward the top of Iago Tower, the chains rattling like bones. Her hair was still damp from the Caliban showers, curling stubbornly around her cheeks. She could feel the chill of morning seeping through her jumper, and she hugged her satchel closer, her toolkit thumping against her hip with every sway of the lift.

When the gate finally screeched open, the familiar smell of oil, metal filings, and hot brass met her like a slap.

Isaac was already there, of course he was, hunched over his desk with that same maddening precision. The gears and fragments scattered around him looked almost reverent in the glow of the workshop lamps.

He didn’t look up. “Thought I was supposed to come looking for you?” he said flatly, pen scratching.

Eddi rolled her eyes as she stepped into the room, boots clanging against the metal flooring. “Please. You wouldn’t have bothered.”

“I might’ve,” he replied, voice lazy.

She snorted. “No, you’d have just done the whole project yourself and handed it in with your name plastered across the top.”

“Tempting,” he admitted, still not turning.

Eddi set her satchel down with a thud, leaning back on the workbench opposite him. “Well, I’m not about to let your wounded ego cost me a perfect credit, so here I am. Ready to partner up with the most miserable genius in the building.”

At that, he finally lifted his head, just enough to pin her with that infuriatingly calm stare. “You were the one with the problem, Leveret. I seem to recall you tried to argue with Stonehearst about it.”

Eddi raised an eyebrow. “So it was a relief for you, then? Finding out you’d been gifted with me?”

Isaac’s pen stilled. He didn’t say anything, but the faintest twist of his mouth was answer enough.

“Thought so,” she said with a short huff of laughter, wandering closer, trailing her fingers along each surface as she got closer and closer.

Leaning over his shoulder, curiosity getting the better of her, she didn't notice that she'd pressed her chest lightly to his shoulder, a touch alone that had halted his movements once again. If she hadn't been so intrigued by the sketches beneath his pen, she might have caught the way his breath seemed to stutter. Her damp hair falling over her face, the waft of her violet and patchouli perfume flowering in the air.

The paper in front of him was covered in immaculate blueprints: a lattice of gears, fine clockwork joints, and runic notations. Before she could make sense of any of it, Isaac suddenly snapped back to life, spreading his hands flat across the page like a sulky child, blocking her view.

Eddi straightened, crossing her arms. “You’re gonna have to show me those if we’re gonna do this properly.”

“Not if you insist on breathing down my neck while I’m drawing,” he said evenly, still covering the plans.

She tilted her head, smirking. "Why? Does me being this close make you uncomfortable?" She placed a hand on the desk, bending over his shoulder, pressing herself intentionally now, into his clenched figure.

"Yes," he huffed, shrugging his shoulders slightly, "Makes me think you like me more than you make out."

“Ugh, don’t flatter yourself, Night." Eddi cringed, taking a step away, "I was trying to figure out if those lines were supposed to mean something or if you’d finally lost your mind.”

Isaac gave a small, clipped exhale that might have been a laugh, or irritation, and carefully gathered the pages, stacking them with absurd neatness.

Eddi watched him, turning now so she could perch on the edge of the table, boot heels swinging. “So what’s the plan, then? You gonna keep playing secret inventor, or are we actually collaborating?”

That made him look up properly. The lamplight caught the sharp planes of his face, his expression unreadable. “That depends,” he said quietly. “Can you follow instructions, or do you only work when you’re in charge?”

The question hung in the air, charged like the static before a storm.

Eddi’s mouth curved into something between a grin and a challenge. “Guess we’ll find out.”

There was another pause filled with a crackle of tension before, Eddi flicked her wrist, sliding a stool from across the room, to under her boots, folding her arms, as she continued to sit on the desk Isaac was sitting at. "So,” she began, “what’s your big genius idea, then? Or do I need to start sketching while you brood dramatically into the middle distance?”

Isaac looked Eddi up and down, as she placed her palms behind her, so much confidence.

“I was thinking something with tactical application.” Isaac eventually mused, leaning back in his chair so he was now aligned with Eddi's legs.

Eddi blinked. “Tactical?”

“A compact defense, something similar to a miniature seek and destroy helicopter. Remote-guided. Adaptive response to threat detection.” His tone was smooth, clinical, like he was dictating to an assistant rather than speaking to a lab partner.

“Of course,” Eddi muttered. “Military. Because what this school really needs is another over-engineered death toy.”

He lifted his gaze slowly, that cool, razor-sharp smirk appearing. “You’d prefer something decorative? Perhaps an automatic hair-braider for your sister?”

Eddi's brows rose a little, a smirk flicking up to her eyes, "I'm sure your sister would enjoy borrowing it."

Isaac's tongue darted out of his mouth, licking his lips briefly, Eddi couldn't tell if her comment had annoyed or amused him.

"Yes, it seems she enjoyed you playing with her hair the other night." Isaac mused, he started to slide his pen through his fingers, nonchalantly.

"Oh you mean the same night you called me a whore?" Eddi bit back harshly, there was a spark of anger at her recollection of the night of the bonfire.

"Yes," Isaac responded brightly, which had Eddi's eyes flashing, "The same night I found you humping a gorgon against a tree."

Eddi felt her face flush with heat, she coughed uncomfortably, her skin heating beneath her woollen jumper, “There was no humping, thank you very much.”

“I can't help it, that I've observant,” he corrected.

"Stalker and observer have often been used in the same sentence in a court of law." Eddi crackled back, and once again Isaac was playing with his lip between his teeth, either biting back a smile or a growl.

'Wish he'd stop that.' Eddi thought loudly.

Choosing to change the topic of conversation, away from this growing awkwardness, she leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “Or- hear me out- we build something actually useful. A medical aid. A prosthetic that responds to muscle movement or neural signals. Something that helps people, not just hurts them.”

Isaac tilted his head, intrigued despite himself. “Medicine? You want to spend a week designing a glorified walking stick?”

“I want to design something useful,” she shot back. “Something with purpose. You’d have an advantage, anyway.”

His brow arched. “And why is that?”

Eddi gestured pointedly toward his chest. “You’ve already got a clockwork heart. We could build off your own anatomy—make it replicable—”

His expression flickered, almost imperceptibly, before returning to its usual composed mask. “That’s not an advantage or something for you to exploit, Leveret. That’s private.”

“Everything about you is private,” she teased, leaning closer. “How do you expect me to work with you if you won’t share your toys?”

He countered without missing a beat. “You strike me as someone who prefers breaking toys rather than playing nicely with them.”

"Pot kettle," Her lips twitched, so did Isaac's. “Depends on the toy.”

That earned a faint, genuine laugh from him, surprising them both. The sound was short and dry, like it had escaped before he could stop it.

Eddi grinned. “There it is. You do have a sense of humour. I was beginning to think you’d had it surgically removed along with your empathy.”

“Don’t mistake reservation for absence,” he said, his voice lowering slightly. He leaned closer to the bench where she’d unconsciously spread her legs, out of comfort and nonchalance, as she kicked her boots, close enough that she could smell the faint trace of oil and steel on him. “Restraint is what keeps things from breaking.”

Eddi’s pulse quickened, her eyes trailing over him, as she fought hard to keep her face stoic and serious. “Restraint? Now where's the fun in that?”

Isaac scoffed, his eyes darkening briefly, "Plenty."

Their eyes met, neither willing to be the first to look away. The air between them hummed faintly, as though the whole room had leaned in to listen.

After a long pause, Isaac exhaled, gesturing to his sketches. “Fine. Show me what you’re thinking.”

She blinked, half-expecting him to argue further. “Seriously?”

“I’m not incapable of compromise,” he said dryly. “Just allergic to bad ideas.”

Eddi smirked and slid off the desk, not realising she was practically standing in between his legs, as she bent over to ogle the parchment in front of him. She was too engrossed in explaining her plan, she didn't notice the way Isaac licked his lips as he eyed her up and down, snapping out of his own head when Eddi spoke, smoothly.

“Then you’d better brace yourself. Mine are brilliant.”

They bent over the desk together, shoulders almost touching as the discussion continued, still full of jabs and sarcastic remarks, but now laced with a strange rhythm of curiosity and something warmer, unspoken, threading through the tension.

By the time Eddi finally looked up from the blueprint they’d been dissecting, the light outside the tower windows had gone from gold to deep violet. Shadows were stretching long across the floor, crawling over the scattered papers, tools, and stray bolts that littered Isaac’s workspace. The air smelled faintly of oil and graphite dust, sharp and metallic, yet somehow comforting.

She blinked in surprise at the clock on the wall. “Is that—? Shit, it’s nearly eight.” The two of them hadn't stopped since twelve in the afternoon. Missing lunch and dinner, all without realising.

Isaac didn’t lift his head. He was still sketching a complex gear assembly, his pencil gliding in crisp, measured lines. “And?”

“And the boys will start a search party if I’m not back soon,” she said, sliding off the desk where she’d been perched. Her legs ached from being still so long, and she nearly lost her balance, only just becoming aware, her legs had gone numb after lack of use. However, her mind buzzed with ideas and unspent words.

He looked up then, eyes flickering over her as if weighing whether to say something. “You could stay until we finalise the schematic.”

Eddi paused, halfway through stuffing her notes into her satchel. “Or I could go before my friends think you’ve kidnapped me.”

“Would that be so terrible?”

His tone was mild, but the question hung between them, laced with something heavier.

Eddi frowned, thrown by the faint trace of sincerity beneath the sarcasm. “You’re not charming enough to get away with that, Night.”

He gave the faintest ghost of a smile. “I wasn’t trying to be.”

The air thickened again, not quite uncomfortable, but close. Eddi broke it first, snapping the buckles on her satchel shut. “We’ve got all weekend to finish this. Don’t wear yourself out brooding while I’m gone.”

“I don’t brood,” he said automatically.

“Sure,” she replied, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “And I don’t argue.”

He turned his pencil between his fingers, looking as though he might reply, but then he only said, quietly, “Perhaps you should focus more on your studies, rather than mothering a mayhem of miscreant morons.”

Her brow furrowed, a beat of anger flickered her veins. “My studies are always my focus. And I do not mother them.”

“Just smother.”

Eddi growled under her breath, stepping backward toward the door. “Goodnight, Isaac.”

“Eddi—”

She stopped.

He hesitated, the word dying in his throat. Whatever he’d meant to say turned into something flatter, safer. “Don’t lose my schematics.”

She rolled her eyes. "Our schematics.”

And then she was gone, boots echoing along the metal floor, the sound of the elevator cage rattling open then closed.

Isaac watched the doorway long after the sound faded, the workshop suddenly too large, too still. He turned back to his desk, but the ink on the page had started to blur, his focus slipping.

For the first time in a long while, Isaac Night didn’t want to be alone with his own thoughts.

>

The Caliban common room was a blur of noise and warm light when Eddi burst through the door. The boys were sprawled across the mismatched couches and beanbags, mid-argument over whose turn it was to deal cards.

Oliver looked up first. “Well, look who finally remembered she lives here!”

Austin snorted. “We were this close to filing a missing person’s report .”

“Please,” Raff added, slouched upside down over the arm of the sofa. “If Isaac had kidnapped her, she’d have rammed her DaVinci where the sun don't shine, and escaped probably with the nerd's blessing.”

The laughter that followed was loud and easy, the kind that normally drew a smirk from her. But tonight, it just scraped against her nerves.

Eddi dropped her satchel onto the floor with a dull thud. “Hilarious. Truly.”

Lenny, perched on the back of the couch, tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “You’re really late, Leveret. We were about to get a little worried."

Eddi knew that Lenny was now being sincere, so she gave him a sad smile, and a slow blink, "I was fine, just lost track of time doing all the work, you know what I'm like."

She walked to him slowly, giving him a fist bump as she stood in front of him. Glancing at his hands, she saw he was holding a small envelope, and she jutted her chin at it.

"What's that?"

"Coach Vlad came by earlier," Lenny handed the envelope over, and Eddi's stomach plummeted when she saw the oh-so-familiar cursive of her father's handwriting, "He said you had mail.”

That made her pause, swallowing thickly. “Mail?”

Taking the letter from him, the paper was heavy, the wax seal dark and precise, unmistakable. Her father’s crest.

Her hand hesitated before she took it from him fully. The world seemed to shrink around the sound of tearing wax.

The letter unfolded like a verdict.

Her hands began to shake before she reached the end. She could feel the blood drain from her face, the room suddenly too bright, too loud.

Austin leaned forward, grin faltering. “Eddi? You...you okay?”

She folded the letter quickly, like the sight of it alone, will bring about only more heartache. “Yeah. Fine.”

“Doesn’t look fine,” Lenny said, sliding off the couch to stand beside her.

“I said I’m fine.”

Her voice was brittle, too sharp, and the boys fell silent. She shoved the letter into her coat pocket and turned away, eyes burning, throat tight. The noise of the room swelled again, softer now, voices unsure how to fill the space she’d just carved through them.

Without another word, Eddi walked toward the stairs to her room.

Lenny moved as if to follow her, but Raff caught his wrist. “Give her a minute,” he muttered.

Upstairs, behind her locked door, Eddi leaned back against the wood, the weight of the letter dragging her down. Her scar burned faintly under her sleeve, a phantom ache that felt like her father’s voice made flesh. She knew that potentially before the night was out, it would thrum hotter and louder.

And she knew, as the words replayed in her mind: Jago will teach you the meaning of your failure, — that she wouldn’t sleep that night.

>

Eddi lay flat on her back, staring at the ceiling beams that cut through the darkness of her attic room. The moonlight slid in through the slanted window, painting pale lines across the floorboards. Her eyes burned, but sleep wouldn’t come. Every time she blinked, she saw her father’s letter. 

Jago will teach you the meaning of your failure.

She rolled over. Then rolled back.

The silence of the room pressed in, heavy and suffocating. Her heart was beating too fast for stillness, too loud for peace.

Finally, she threw the blankets aside and stood. The wooden floor was cold beneath her feet, and it creaked with age. She began to pace, back and forth, arms crossed, the letter’s words echoing in her skull like a curse.

The scar on her forearm was quiet. No pain. No splitting. Just that dreadful anticipation humming beneath her skin.

When she realised sleep would never come, she grabbed her hoodie and headed downstairs.

The Caliban common room was dark but for the fire that burned low in the hearth. Its glow was soft and orange, throwing dancing shadows across the walls. The couches were empty. The boys had all gone to bed hours ago.

Eddi dropped onto the sofa nearest the fire, curling her knees to her chest. The quiet should have soothed her. But it didn’t. It only gave her too much space to think.

She stared at the flames.

For a moment, she thought she heard something, soft, almost like a whisper.

Her name.

"Eddi."

She blinked, leaning forward. The fire popped and hissed. Again, faint, but clearer this time. "Eddi…"

The sound crawled up her spine.

She rose slowly from the couch, taking a step toward the hearth. The flames shifted, stretching, reshaping.

And then she saw him.

A small figure crouched within the blaze, a boy with firelight hair and trembling shoulders. His knees were pulled up to his chest, his face streaked with tears of ember and smoke.

“Jago?” Her voice cracked.

The flame-boy lifted his head. “Eddi…”

The sound of his voice, broken, scared, tore through her. She dropped to her knees in front of the fireplace, reaching out a hand instinctively. The heat licked her skin, but she didn’t care.

“Jago, it’s alright, I’m here—”

Before she could finish, another voice thundered through the fire, deep, cruel, unmistakable.

Her father’s.

“Enough! Stop your crying, she isn't coming!”

The flames roared. Jago’s tiny form screamed, a sound like glass shattering, and the fire exploded outwards.

Eddi gasped and threw up her arms as the burst of heat hit her face-

And then-

Silence.

She jerked upright, heart hammering, chest heaving as she tried desperately to suck in a deeper breath. She has been asleep, she had been dreaming…or had she? Had it been a vision or just a creation from her own imagination? Or both?

The fire still burned, small and steady, as if nothing had happened. The common room was empty. The couch creaked beneath her as she pushed herself upright, breath trembling.

It had been a dream. Or a vision. Or something else entirely. That’s what she told herself anyway.

Her scar throbbed once beneath her sleeve, a dull pulse, like a warning.

Eddi pressed her palm against it, closing her eyes, her voice barely a whisper. “Jago.”

Eddi’s pulse was still a wild drum in her chest, her skin clammy from the heat of the dream. She was sitting forward on the couch, hand clutched to her arm, when a low voice drifted through the silence.

“You always talk in your sleep?”

Eddi’s head snapped up.

Isaac stood halfway down the staircase, arms folded loosely across his chest, a shadow among shadows. The dim light from the fire caught the sharp lines of his face, glinting off his pasty features.

“What are you doing—” Eddi’s voice cracked; she swallowed hard. “—wandering around in the dark again? Don’t you ever sleep?”

Isaac started down the last few steps, his expression unreadable. “Your attic is directly above my room,” he said coolly. “I was trying to sleep. The pacing made it… difficult.”

Eddi blinked, she actually felt like she believed him. “Oh.”

He gestured toward the couch. “I came down here for some peace, but apparently, you’ve claimed that too.”

Eddi rubbed at her eyes and muttered, “Sorry to ruin your beauty rest.” She shifted aside, moving her legs so he was able to pass her, she mumbles. "You clearly need it."

Instead of heading for the far end of the room, Isaac crossed to the armchair beside her and sat down, the firelight catching in his deep brown irises. Eddi froze, her back straightening instinctively.

For a long moment, he said nothing, just watched her. Then, quieter, “Are you alright? You were mumbling in your sleep.”

Eddi stared into the fire. “Fine.”

“That’s not an answer,” Isaac replied, his tone clipped.

“It’s the only one I’ve got for you,” she shot back, the edge in her voice returning as she turned toward him.

Isaac exhaled sharply through his nose, leaning back in the chair. “You make it impossible to have a conversation that isn’t an argument.”

“Maybe I don’t like having conversations with you, feels like an interrogation.”

“Maybe it's because you always seem to have something to hide,” he countered.

The words stung more than she’d admit. Eddi stood abruptly, her bare feet silent on the rug. “You’ve got a lot of nerve calling anyone secretive,” she said, arms crossing defensively. “You’re the one who lurks in shadows, brooding like some second-rate Byronic hero. I don’t owe you explanations, we’re barely even acquaintances, as far from friends as outcast-ly possible.”

Isaac’s gaze lifted to hers, cool and steady. “You think I don’t know that?”

The silence between them crackled, louder than the fire.

Eddi’s breath came shallow, her heartbeat uneven — half from anger, half from something she didn’t have the words for.

“Then stop acting like you do,” she said finally, softer this time, before turning away toward the stairs.

Isaac didn’t stop her, but his voice followed her, low and calm.

“Whatever it was, Eddi,” he said, “it didn’t look like nothing.”

She paused at the first step, back rigid, hands curling into fists.

"I will see you later today, to continue our project," she spoke coldly, without turning around, "I'll assume you're at the tower."

Then she climbed the rest of the stairs without another word.

Isaac stayed where he was, the fire reflecting in his eyes, the name she’d murmured — Jago — echoing quietly in his mind.

>

The Caliban breakfast table was a mess of half-eaten toast, crumpled papers, and mugs that had half finished dregs of coffee and juice. The smell of burnt coffee lingered thick in the air, but Eddi didn’t seem to mind. She tipped the pot again, filling her chipped mug to the brim with inky liquid.

“Another one?” Raff yawned, rubbing his eyes. “Pretty sure your heart’s gonna explode if you keep drinking that sludge.”

Eddi gave a tired half-smile, not looking up. “You’d need a heart for that to happen.”

The boys groaned in mock offense.

“Dark,” Oliver said around a mouthful of cereal. “Even for you.”

She shrugged, curling her hands around the steaming mug, letting the heat sting her palms. The shadows under her eyes looked darker than usual, her hair pulled into a messy knot that hadn’t seen a brush since dawn.

Lenny, who’d been quiet up to now, leaned across the table. “You sure you’re alright? After the letter?”

Eddi’s eyes flicked up- too quickly. “Yeah. Fine.”

“What did it say?”

She hesitated, the lie slipping out before she could stop it. “Our dog died.”

Raff frowned. “You have a dog?”

Lenny blinked, chewing that over. “You never mentioned a dog.”

Eddi was already standing, sliding her satchel over her shoulder. “You never asked.”

“Wait—” Lenny started, but she cut him off with a grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes, it was fake, but that was intentional.

“I’m meeting Isaac. We’ve got to work on that project for Stonehearst.”

“On a Sunday morning?” Oliver groaned. “He’s got you whipped already.”

Eddi smirked faintly. “Please. No one whips me.”

She grabbed an apple from the table and started for the door before they could ask any more questions. The lie burned in her throat like the coffee she’d just swallowed, but she pushed it down, one foot already on the stairs leading up to Iago Tower.

The top floor of Iago Tower was humming again, the steady whir of gears and ticking of clockwork echoing off the stone. Isaac was already bent over his desk when Eddi arrived, sleeves rolled, ink smudged on his fingers. He didn’t even look up when the door creaked open.

“Morning to you too,” she muttered, dropping her satchel onto the floor with a heavy thud.

He didn’t answer. Just a scratch of graphite and the faint metallic click of a winding key in his chest.

Eddi rolled her eyes and knelt, pulling out her notebook, pen, and a handful of worn volumes she’d scavenged from the library. Medical Mechanics: Normie Advances in Prosthetics, The DaVinci Effect: Ethical Boundaries in Outcast Innovation. She set them down in a neat pile, mostly to make a point.

“So, I was thinking,” she started, her tone sharp enough to cut through steel, “if we combined a pressure-valve system with the rotational gear design you’ve got there, we could stabilise a synthetic artery model. It’d—”

Isaac didn’t look up.

“—never mind. I'll just fuck off and die then.”

Eddi sighed and sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor, pen in hand. Fine. Let him sulk.

She began scribbling equations, friction ratios, heat transfer rates, muttering under her breath. But halfway down the page, her hand froze.

The scar on her forearm twitched. Just a flicker, like a muscle spasm. She rubbed at it absently through her sleeve, trying to ignore the strange heat creeping beneath her skin.

Then came the itch. Deep, under the flesh. Crawling.

She drew a sharp breath.

Not now.

Eddi shook her arm, trying to pass it off as irritation from her jumper, but the itch deepened, turning into a sting that made her teeth clench. Her pulse hammered in her throat.

“No,” she whispered, eyes wide. “No, no, no—”

The whisper wasn’t quiet enough.

Isaac paused mid-sketch, glancing toward her over the rim of his notes. “What now?”

She didn’t answer. Her hand clutched at her sleeve, nails digging into the fabric as the pain sharpened, lightning shooting through her veins.

“Leveret,” Isaac said, straighter now.

“Nothing!” she barked, voice cracking on the word.

Her body jerked forward. She bit down hard on her pen, muffling the cry that wanted to rip free. Blood bloomed through the cotton of her sleeve, dark and spreading.

Isaac was on his feet. “Eddi—”

She curled in on herself, trying to turn away from him, hiding her arm. The sound that left her wasn’t a word, just a strangled gasp between clenched teeth.

Isaac took a cautious step closer. “You’re bleeding.”

Her head snapped up, eyes bright with pain and fury. “Don’t-” she hissed. “Just-don’t. Leave me alone.”

But he didn’t stop. The look on his face wasn’t pity- it was calculation, fascination, concern all tangled together.

When she flinched back again, he caught sight of the blood soaking through the fabric, the faint crackling heat beneath it, like the wound was alive.

Whatever this was — it wasn’t normal.

Eddi pressed herself into the corner of the tower, her back scraping against cold stone, as she tried to scuttle to the shadows, to hide herself and the pain. The world had narrowed to the pulse in her arm, every throb a white-hot brand that made her vision blur.

“Eddi,” Isaac said again, his voice closer now. Too close.

“Don’t,” she rasped, dragging herself tighter into the wall, pressing herself against the frosty brick. Her knees hit the wall with a hollow sound. “Please—just—stay back.”

But he didn’t. Isaac moved the way he always did, deliberate, stubborn, precise, until he was kneeling in front of her. The smell of iron and machine oil hung between them.

The blood was dripping steadily now. Drip. Drip. It hit the stone in tiny red splatters, bright in the tower’s half-light.

Eddi pressed her sleeve to her arm, sobs clawing their way up her throat. The sound wasn’t loud, but raw, like a wounded animal.

Isaac reached for her shoulder. She flinched, tried to shove him away at first, desperate to wallow in her guilt and misery alone. When his hand managed to settle on her shoulder, she went to shove it off, but her hand caught his wrist instead. She didn’t push. She clutched.

His skin was cold, almost lifeless, the strange chill of someone who had touched death and learned to live with it. It sent a shock through her, but it dulled the fire burning under her flesh.

“Let me see,” he said softly, but firmly.

She shook her head once, violently. “No, you don’t—”

But he was already peeling back her sleeve. The fabric clung to her arm, sticky with blood. When it came free, he saw it, the split skin, raw and seething, like something beneath was trying to break through. It wasn’t a wound so much as a curse.

The air hissed faintly around it, as though the skin sizzled in imaginary heat.

Isaac swallowed, he had a strong stomach, years of personal experimentation had seen to that, but he'd never seen something so violently grotesque on a living human. “What is this?”

Eddi couldn’t look at him. Her vision blurred, her breath catching in stuttered gasps as she tried to speak.

“It’s—” She bit the word, tears cutting through the blood she'd accidentally smeared on her face, from where she'd tried to stem the bleeding. “It’s an unbreakable vow.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, quiet but heavy enough to fill the tower.

Isaac stared, his jaw tightening. “A vow?” He'd only read about this, in a book on ancient magic and curses, he'd thought had long been outlawed.

She nodded once, stiffly, pressing her arm against her chest, like she could cage the pain there.

“It binds us,” she whispered. “It punishes me for their pain. If I don't keep them safe. If I don't keep them happy.” Her eyes flicked up to him, hollow and sharp all at once. “And I broke it.”

Isaac didn’t move for a moment. Then, with a slow exhale, he lifted his free hand, palm turning upward. The air shifted.

A cloth slid across the desk behind him, folding neatly into his grasp. The bowl followed, water sloshing softly against the rim as it floated through the air. He set them beside her without breaking eye contact.

“Hold still,” he murmured.

He dipped the cloth, wrung it out, and began to clean the blood from her arm. His movements were precise, almost clinical, but there was a stillness to them that felt… deliberate. Careful. The cloth moved in slow, circular motions, tracing the angry lines that split through her skin.

Eddi watched him through a haze of pain and exhaustion. The water stung, but she didn’t flinch. She didn’t dare.

“Explain,” he said quietly.

Her throat worked around the word no, but it didn’t make it past her lips. Something in the way he was tending to her, measured and unhurried, made resistance feel pointless.

“It’s a vow,” she said finally, voice trembling against the quiet hum of the tower. “An unbreakable one.”

“You said that,” he replied, wringing out the cloth again. “But you didn’t say what it is.”

Eddi hesitated. The air felt thick with the weight of memory. Her eyes fixed on the dark red water pooling in the bowl.

“It’s between me and my father,” she said at last. Her voice grew quieter, words dragged out like splinters. “I’m to protect my siblings-from harm, from anything that might taint them. Physical. Mental. Whatever he deems… unworthy.”

She drew a shaky breath, it stuttered in her throat as Isaac's cloth crossed over a particularly sensitive part, a quiet 'sorry' fell from his lips, but he continued to tend to the wound.

“If I fail, I’m punished.”

She lifted her arm slightly, the motion weak, but enough to show him the jagged red seam splitting through her flesh, starting at her ring finger, and zigzagging around her palm and forearm.

Isaac’s hands paused, just for a moment. “Why would your father—”

“He doesn’t see us as his children.” The words came quicker now, sharper, as though they’d been festering too long to stay contained. “He doesn’t see anything like that. To him, we’re extensions. Branches on his tree. Tools, meant to carry his name and his work. Nothing more.”

Her voice cracked, but she forced herself to keep going. “There’s a reason all his children have different mothers. He doesn’t build families, he breeds them. He creates them. Like experiments. So that his influence lives on when he doesn’t, finding the perfect specimen to provide him with the perfect child.”

She looked away, swallowing hard. “He’ll never die, not really. Not while we exist.”

The tower was utterly still. Only the soft clink of the bowl broke the silence as Isaac set the cloth down.

His jaw was tight. His eyes were unreadable.

“He made this vow,” he said, voice low. “And you accepted it?”

Eddi’s lips parted, to answer, to deny, but no sound came. She only looked at him, something raw and desperate flickering in her eyes.

Isaac’s fingers stilled where they rested against her arm. The faint ticking of his mechanical heart filled the silence, a cold, metallic rhythm against the hush of the tower.

“How old were you?” he asked quietly, realising his first question was going to go ignored and unanswered.

Eddi blinked at him, startled by the question. “What?”

“When you took this vow,” Isaac clarified. His voice had dropped, low and measured, but beneath the control there was something unsettling.

She hesitated. Then, broken: “Twelve.”

The word seemed to hit him like a physical blow. Isaac’s expression cracked, the first true fracture Eddi had ever seen in his careful composure. His mouth opened, but no sound came. His eyes, sharp and analytical by habit, now looked… human. Shocked.

“Twelve,” he repeated, almost to himself. “That’s—” He cut himself off, unable to find a word that fit.

Eddi looked down, her voice steadier now, not because it didn’t hurt, but because she had told this story to herself so many times it had worn smooth inside her mind. “He said it was the only way to discipline me. Before, there was nothing he could do, nothing that mattered. I didn’t care what he said. Didn’t care what he took from me. Didn't care how hard he beat me.”

Her gaze drifted to the window, pale morning light brushing over her face. “Then he realised I cared about her. Vittorie.”

Isaac didn’t move.

“He made me kneel,” Eddi continued, her voice hollow. “Then he cut from my ring finger," she turned her hand over in Isaac's and showed where the skin had split, the only straight cut across her whole hand and forearm, the bloody trail came from her ring finger to the bottom of her palm, "It has to be from this finger, it's the one with the artery that goes straight to your heart. He cut from there to my wrist."

"Then he made me swear to protect her from every harm, every threat. I didn’t understand what I was agreeing to, I didn't know what he meant, not until the first time she fell down and cut her arm.”

Her own arm trembled in his grasp. “The scar appeared that night. He said it meant the vow had taken. That the pain I felt was proof that I was finally… useful.”

Her eyes shone, though no tears fell. “Jago wasn’t born yet. But my father said every child after Vittorie would be bound to it. That I was to protect them all, his entire legacy.”

Isaac’s face had gone pale. Paler than normal. His jaw tightened, his hands curled slightly, though he kept them steady where they touched her skin.

“And when I fail,” Eddi said softly, “he doesn't hurt me. He hurts her. He hurts Jago. Because he knows… that's so much worse for me.”

The silence that followed was so deep it felt like the tower itself was holding its breath.

Isaac’s voice, when it came, was quiet, a whisper edged with fury. “He uses your love as a leash.”

Eddi swallowed hard, eyes flicking toward him. “He uses it as a lesson.”

He shook his head once, sharply. “That isn’t discipline, Leveret. That’s cruelty refined into control.”

Something flickered between them, not pity, not sympathy, but a recognition. The look of one engineered creation staring into the eyes of another, and realising neither of them were entirely human by choice.

Isaac’s hand lingered on her arm longer than he should have. His thumb moved unconsciously, tracing the edge of one of the raised cracks where the blood had dried. The silence between them had thickened again, not uncomfortable, but heavy, alive with unspoken things.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than before, but there was something fierce beneath the calm. “Why don’t you break it?”

Eddi’s head snapped up. “What?”

“The vow,” Isaac said. “You’re clever enough to find a way. You could find something to override it, counter it—”

“I’ve tried,” she cut in sharply, her voice raw. “You think I haven’t?”

Isaac froze.

Eddi’s hand came up to wipe at her face, though the tears hadn’t fallen. “He designed it that way. He made sure it couldn’t be broken without consequence.”

“What kind of consequence?” Isaac asked, though he already felt he knew the answer.

Eddi looked at him, her eyes suddenly very old — too old for seventeen. “If I try to break it, it’ll end me. And it’ll take Vittorie and Jago with me.”

Isaac blinked once, twice. “End you?”

She nodded. “The vow binds our lives together. Mine to theirs. I’m the tether. If I sever it, the thread burns out at all three ends. I don't care what happens to me, I'd have killed myself by now if it meant we could all be free. But the thought of them losing their young lives too....breaks my dark heart.”

Something in Isaac’s chest stuttered, his mechanical heart giving a strange, halting whirr. He looked away, jaw working, the fury beginning to spark in his eyes. “He built that into you.”

Eddi managed a bitter half-smile. “He builds everything that way. Nothing leaves his hands without a failsafe.”

Isaac stood abruptly, pacing a short, restless line beside the workbench. “So he made sure you’d never escape. You’d protect them, or you’d die with them. It’s not a vow, it’s a cage.”

Eddi’s voice was quieter now, more measured. “It’s both.”

Isaac turned to look at her again, his expression softening despite himself. “And you just live with that?”

“What choice do I have?” she murmured. “If it keeps them safe, then I’ll take the pain.”

Isaac stared at her, searching her face as if he might find the flaw in her logic, the weakness in the spell. But there was none, only resolve, quiet and unyielding.

After a long moment, he said, almost under his breath, “Maybe you’re stronger than I thought you were, Leveret.”

She huffed, a sound halfway between a scoff and a laugh. “Or just more stupid.”

Isaac’s lips twitched faintly — something like a smile ghosted there, before fading again.

"You're anything but stupid."

Isaac’s jaw tightened, eyes flicking from her face to the wound on her arm, then back again. “What does it mean?” he asked, his tone low, not quite demanding, but close. “Right now. The blood, the pain-what’s happening to you?”

Eddi hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. She didn’t want to say it aloud, saying it would make it too real.

But Isaac’s stare was unrelenting. Cold and clinical on the surface, but there was something trembling beneath it, a glimmer of genuine concern.

She swallowed hard. “It means…” She trailed off, eyes dropping to the dark stain spreading through the rag around her arm. “It means Jago’s been punished.”

Isaac froze. “Punished?”

“By my father.” Her voice cracked on the last word. She blinked rapidly, trying to hold herself together, but her throat was closing in on itself. “I got a letter from him. Earlier. Said I failed to protect Vittorie during the tryouts. That I let her get hurt. It's why I couldn't sleep last night, I've been waiting for this.”

Isaac’s brow furrowed. “So he—he hurts the boy, for something that was out of your control?”

Eddi nodded once, tightly. “It’s his way of reminding me what happens when I fail him. And even here...he can still touch me.”

For a heartbeat, Isaac said nothing. His hands went still, one still resting on her wrist, the other hovering over the bowl of water. The faint whirring sound from his chest filled the silence, steady but strange, like the grinding of gears behind ribs that had forgotten how to breathe.

“That’s barbaric,” he said finally. The word came out clipped, bitten off like something he didn’t want to taste.

Eddi let out a breath, a laugh, but there was no humour in it. “You think I don’t know that?”

“I think,” Isaac said quietly, “you’ve lived with it so long you’ve started mistaking endurance for choice.”

That landed sharper than either of them expected. Eddi looked up at him then, eyes glassy and full of defiance. “You think I want this?”

“No,” he replied, his voice steady again. “But I think you’ve decided it’s easier to bleed than to fight.”

The words hung between them like a blade. Eddi’s throat worked, but she couldn’t find anything to say. Her hand, the one not slick with blood, curled around into a fist, holding in the words she wanted to scream, but didn't have the energy for.

Isaac dipped the cloth again, wrung it out, and pressed it gently back to her arm. His touch was still precise, still measured, but the mechanical detachment had cracked; his jaw was tight with restrained fury.

“He’s a monster,” he said finally, under his breath.

Eddi didn’t argue. She just closed her eyes.

The silence in the tower had turned heavy, like dust settling after an explosion. The faint ticking of Isaac’s mechanisms was the only thing that dared to fill it.

Eddi tried to push through it, reaching for the sketchbook and mechanical parts strewn across the worktable. “We should probably get back to the project,” she said, forcing a brisk tone she didn’t feel. “Stonehearst will have both our hides if we don’t have anything to show him before Tuesday's lesson.”

Isaac didn’t look at her right away. His hand was still braced on the table, fingertips faintly stained with her blood. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but firm. “I don’t feel like studying much more tonight.”

Eddi blinked, thrown off by how human he sounded. Then she scoffed, trying to make it sound like amusement rather than defense. “Isaac Night, turning down extra study time? Should I alert the Principal? You might be coming down with something.”

He didn’t rise to the bait. Didn’t even twitch a smile. He just started gathering her scattered books and notes, stacking them neatly before tucking the loose pencils inside the cover.

The silence pressed in again.

When he reached for her satchel, Eddi’s reflexes were faster. She snatched it out of his grip, the movement sharper than she intended. “I can manage,” she said, slinging the strap over her shoulder.

“I wasn’t implying you couldn’t.” His tone was even, but there was something tired under it, something she couldn’t quite name.

“Well, good,” she said, her voice brittle as she turned toward the door. “Wouldn’t want to strain your precious hands.”

Isaac didn’t answer that either. His shadow stretched long in the dim lamplight as he turned away, wiping the last traces of water and blood from the worktable.

Eddi hesitated at the threshold, just long enough for the ache in her arm to remind her of everything she’d said, everything she’d shown. Then she added, softer but no less biting, “Don’t worry, Night. I get it. You don’t want to play with broken things.”

Isaac’s head snapped up, but before he could form a reply, she was already gone, boots echoing down the tower stairs, her satchel banging lightly against her hip.

He stood there for a long while after the sound of her footsteps faded, staring at the space she’d occupied, at the rag, still soaked crimson, folded neatly beside his blueprints.

Then, with a slow, mechanical sigh, he folded the cloth away, grabbing his own things.

>

By the time Eddi reached Caliban Hall, her hands were trembling, and her eyes stung with unshed tears. She shoved the blood-stiff jumper deeper into her satchel, pulling her sleeves down to hide the drying gash beneath, and forced the burn in her throat back down where it belonged.

The common room was alive with noise, Raff and Oliver arguing over a deck of battered playing cards, Austin had vanished and was hovering coins above their heads, every now and then, he'd drop one on their foreheads, a ghost of a grin hung above them as they desperately flapped their hands, hoping to catch Austin with a flying fist. Lenny was sprawled across the couch like a dog who owned the place. All of them looked up when she appeared in the doorway.

“Hey,” Lenny greeted her with a smile, which quickly turned into a frown, when he noticed Eddi's sunken eyes. “ You okay? What's up?”

Eddi opened her mouth, but nothing coherent came out. Her chest ached. The walls were closing in. She felt the panic bubbling up, panic that she desperately wanted to keep suppressed. So with great force, she smiled, thin and unconvincing. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

The boys exchanged a look that said liar.

Raff was the first to move, lifting himself up from the couch, his palms behind him as support. “Tired, my ass. You look like the Wraithstone's just torn you a new one.”

Not the most tactful of the group, but with well meaning, he threw a cushion at her, which she blocked with her hands, not her telekinesis, much to the boys surprise. They all shared a look, one that Eddi didn't have the energy to notice, as she collapsed into an armchair opposite Lenny.

"I'm tired, that's all." Eddi insisted, tipping her head back over the edge of the chair.

Before she could make anymore protests, Lenny was on his feet, grinning like a wolf, as he stalked his way towards the chair. “You know what that face needs?”

Eddi didn't lift her head from its tipped position, but she did dart her eyes downwards, watching him as he came closer. She lifted a single finger to wave in his face.

“Lenny. Don’t. You—”

But he already had her in his arms, pinning her onto the couch. She shrieked and kicked, laughter breaking out of her despite herself as Raff and Oliver joined in, tickling her sides mercilessly.

“Stop! I swear—” she gasped between laughs, tears prickling the corners of her eyes.

“Not till you smile properly,” Lenny said, fingers digging playfully at her ribs.

“Okay! Okay! I’m smiling! You bastards—”

They relented, collapsing in a heap around her, breathless and triumphant. Eddi pushed her hair out of her face, cheeks flushed from laughing. For a moment, the world didn’t hurt so much.

Then Raff leaned forward, his grin softening. “Alright, out with it. What’s actually wrong?”

She was still catching her breath when the door creaked open.

Isaac stepped into the room like a shadow given shape, all dark clothes and unreadable eyes. His presence cut through the warmth like a gust of cold wind.

Raff straightened immediately, his easy humour hardening into suspicion. “What did you do?” he demanded, pointing a finger. “She looks like she’s been crying-don’t tell me you—”

Eddi shot upright, voice sharper than intended. “It wasn’t him.”

The boys stared. She swallowed and forced her tone gentler. “It’s nothing to do with Isaac. It's the letter I got from home. About… my dog.”

Lenny frowned. “The dog we didn't know you even had, the dog you've never mentioned.”

“I do,” she said quickly. “Did.” The word lodged in her throat, so she stood, smoothing her sleeves down again. “Anyway. It’s fine.”

Raff still looked unconvinced but sank back onto the couch, muttering under his breath. Isaac crossed the room in silence, heading for the stairwell that led to the boys’ dorms.

Lenny, ever the chaos incarnate, glanced between them and grinned. “You sure you’re cheered up yet, Leveret?”

Before she could reply, he lunged again, catching her around the waist, lifting her off her feet, and peppering her face with exaggerated kisses.

“Lenny!” she yelped, laughing despite herself, shoving at his shoulders. "Got off me, you dirty dog."

“You’re smiling again,” he said smugly, setting her back down.

She was still laughing when she glanced toward the stairs and froze.

Isaac had stopped halfway up. One hand on the railing. His expression dark, the set of his jaw was tight, and his gaze- cold, cutting- was fixed on her and Lenny.

The laughter caught in her throat.

Lenny followed her gaze. “What?” he narrowed his eyes at Isaac, "You want to take a picture for your personal collection, you creep."

Isaac's jaw ticked, but he didn't say anything else to the group, instead he gripped the railing harder before continuing his assent up the stairs.

"What the fuck is his problem?" Raff grumbled, all of the boys exchanged a look, but Eddi's gaze was still fixed on the now empty stairwell. But even as she sank back onto the couch, she could still feel Isaac’s stare like a weight against her skin.

>

By Monday morning, Eddi’s nerves were a mess of static.

Classes hadn’t even started yet, but she’d already caught Isaac’s eye three times across the dining Hall. Each time, the same dark look. The same stormy stare that made her skin crawl with confusion and something else she refused to name.

She’d told herself it was fine, he was probably just brooding like he always did, but every time she looked up from her breakfast, there he was again. Watching.

“Oi, Leveret!” Oliver’s voice yanked her back to the present. “You spacing out again? You’ve barely touched your toast.”

Eddi blinked, dragging her focus back to the table. The Caliban boys were in full swing- laughing too loud, slapping each other’s arms, making the kind of racket that had already earned them three glares from the teachers’ table.

Lenny was balancing a fork on his nose. Raff was egging him on. Austin was using his vanishing trick to float a bowl of cereal dangerously close to Oliver’s hair.

And in the middle of it all sat Eddi, shoulders hunched but smiling despite herself.

Ever since she’d stumbled into the common room that night, eyes red, voice brittle- the boys had made it their personal mission to keep her smiling. They pounced on her when she walked by, poked her ribs, slung arms over her shoulders; their affection was loud, clumsy, and constant.

Normally, she’d have recoiled. Her DaVinci current was unpredictable, her telekinesis always humming just under her skin. But with them, she didn’t mind. The rough-and-tumble warmth grounded her, made her forget the ache in her arm, the letter in her bag, the eyes that followed her from across the hall.

Lenny threw an arm around her now, pulling her half against his chest. “You’re thinking too hard again,” he said, grinning.

“Someone has to,” she shot back.

“Oh, she’s still got that silver tongue!” Raff crowed, laughing.

Before she could retaliate, Lenny caught her chin between his hands, squishing her cheeks together so her words came out garbled. “Look at this serious face! Doesn’t suit you, Leveret.”

“Lenny—let me—go—” she sputtered, laughing despite herself.

The table burst into laughter again. Grapes rolled, juice spilled, Oliver nearly choked from laughing too hard.

And then—everything froze.

Eddi felt it before she saw it, the heat prickling at the back of her neck. She turned her head just enough to catch sight of Isaac standing by the doors to the hall, tray in hand, eyes locked on her.

His expression wasn’t blank this time. It was dark, simmering—something taut and unguarded in his jaw as he watched Lenny’s hands still holding her face.

For a heartbeat, Eddi forgot to breathe.

Then Isaac’s nostrils flared, his lips pressed into a hard line, and without a word he set his tray down- too forcefully- and turned on his heel.

The clatter of the doors echoed after him.

The table went quiet for a beat before Raff leaned forward, fork halfway to his mouth. “...What’s his problem?”

“Who, Night?” Oliver said, shrugging. “He’s always in a mood.”

Eddi forced a laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah. Probably just doesn’t like mornings.”

But even as the boys went back to bickering and throwing food, she found herself glancing toward the doors again, the echo of his stare still prickling under her skin.

>

The greenhouse classroom smelled of damp soil and citrus sap. Morning light filtered through the warped glass panels, streaking the benches with gold.

Eddi sat with her chin propped in her palm, a pen spinning lazily between her fingers as Mr. Selpie droned on about cross-pollination. It was easy work; child’s play, really. She’d already finished the homework Selpie hadn’t even assigned yet.

Next to her, Lenny was anything but bored. He’d managed to coax one of the creeping vines from the pot between them into curling around his wrist like a living bracelet.

“Think I could bring this thing to Bloodrush?” he whispered, grinning. “Trip up the opposing team—whip their ankles—bam!”

Eddi smirked. “You’d end up strangling yourself before the first whistle.”

Lenny laughed under his breath, leaning closer. “You wound me, Leveret. No faith at all.”

“None,” she said, biting back a smile.

They were whispering now, snickering about game tactics and how many bruises Raff had left on his shins during training, the kind of low, easy chatter that made the dull lesson bearable.

Across the room, Isaac’s pen scratched sharply against paper.

He’d been quiet the entire period, hunched over his notes, that usual meticulous precision in everything he did. But with every laugh that slipped from Eddi’s mouth, his grip on the pen seemed to tighten.

Finally, he snapped.

“Could you keep your mouth shut for five minutes?” Isaac said, voice cutting across the greenhouse like glass shattering.

The room fell silent. Selpie glanced up from his diagrams, frowning.

Lenny turned, still grinning, he’d never been good at letting things go, it was his werewolf hot-bloodiness. “You got something to say, Night?”

Isaac didn’t even look up from his page. “I just did.”

“Oh yeah?” Lenny shoved his chair back, the legs screeching on the tile. “Why don’t you say it again- maybe without hiding behind your fancy handwriting?”

Eddi’s stomach dropped. “Lenny, don’t-”

But it was too late. Lenny took a step forward, and Isaac finally raised his head.

The air shifted.

For a split second, it was as though the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. The vines at the edge of the tables trembled. Eddi felt the static rise in her palms a heartbeat before it happened-

-Lenny hit the ground hard, the pot beside him toppling with a crash of soil and ceramic.

The whole class gasped.

Eddi shot to her feet, heart pounding. “Isaac!”

He stood where he was, calm, collected, his hand still outstretched from the flick of his telekinesis. “He was distracting me,” he said coolly.

Eddi glared, kneeling to help Lenny up. “What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“No heavy petting in class,” Isaac said, unbothered.

“Enough!” Selpie's voice thundered from the front of the room, cutting through the tension. He looked livid. “All three of you—detention.”

Eddi and Isaac opened their mouths to argue, but Selpie's glare left no room for protest.

Lenny muttered something foul under his breath, brushing dirt from his shirt. Eddi shot Isaac a look that could have shattered glass- but he just stared back, unreadable, a faint flicker of something like regret passing across his face before he turned back to his desk.

The bell rang like a mercy, and Selpie's voice was still echoing behind them when the students spilled out of the greenhouse into the corridor. The air outside was cooler, sharp with the scent of damp stone.

Lenny was still fuming, his hands balled into fists. “Fucking telekinetic freak,” he muttered.

"Hey." Eddi chastised, gesturing to herself silently, but she knew he hadn't meant her.

"Sorry, not you," Lenny spoke gruffly, but his attention was already drawn elsewhere before he could make any meaningful apologies.

Storming ahead until he caught sight of Isaac’s dark coat disappearing around the corner. “Oi! Night!”

“Lenny, don’t—” Eddi called, but he was already halfway there.

Isaac turned at the sound of his name, his expression unchanging, the faintest curl of a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. When Lenny got close enough to swing, Isaac only raised his hand and wiggled his fingers lazily in front of Lenny’s face, a silent threat humming in the gesture.

“You really want to try this again?” His voice was quiet, but the corridor carried it like thunder.

Lenny froze. The lights above flickered, responding to the static tension that always seemed to cling to Isaac.

Eddi stepped between them, her jaw tight. “Lenny. Move. Go find the boys. I’ll deal with this.”

He looked ready to argue, but one look at her face and he backed off, muttering something under his breath before shoving his hands into his pockets and disappearing down the hall.

When the corridor finally emptied, Eddi turned back to Isaac. Her hands were clenched at her sides, fury simmering under her skin.

“What the hell was that about?” she demanded. “You can’t just throw people across the room because they talk too loud!”

Isaac shrugged, leaning against the wall like this was nothing more than a mildly inconvenient conversation. “I wasn't enjoying watching that mongrel slobber all of over you. Would have thought that sort of thing was beneath you.”

Eddi blinked. “Excuse me?”

He tilted his head, eyes cool, voice deceptively calm. “You asked what it was about. That’s what it was about.”

A slow, incredulous smirk crept across her face. “You jealous, Night?”

Isaac’s eyes flicked toward her, dark and measured. For a second, she thought he might deny it, but he just smiled, a sharp, dangerous thing that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Jealous?” he echoed softly. “Of that mutt? Please.”

Despite Isaac rolling his eyes in mock jest, his knuckles were white against his sides.

"You're a poor liar, Mr Night." Eddi replies cooly, she's got him, and she knows it, now it was like a cat playing with a mouse. Or that's what she hoped it was, "Careful, I nearly heard that heart of yours stutter."

Eddi’s smirk deepened, and she took a slow step closer, just enough that the space between them hummed.

Isaac’s mouth parted, the barest flicker of surprise crossing his face, the kind of expression he’d kill before anyone else could see. His eyes darted to her lips, then back up, cold and hard again.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, a little too fast, a little too clipped.

Eddi tilted her head, enjoying the shift in his composure. “Mm. Maybe not.” She leaned in, close enough for her breath to graze his jaw. “But I know that wasn’t about Lenny. You just don’t like losing control. You and I. Are much the same."

Isaac went still, every line in him pulled taut, as if he couldn’t decide whether to grab her or walk away.

Before he could respond, Eddi straightened up, brushing past him with deliberate ease. “I’ll be in Iago Tower tonight,” she said over her shoulder. “We are going to finish that project.”

He turned to face her, ready with something sharp, but she was already walking away, her braid swinging, her laughter soft and mocking as it echoed down the corridor.

Isaac’s jaw tightened. He watched until she disappeared around the corner, his pulse still pounding, his fingers twitching as if to summon something, but nothing came.

Just the faintest trace of her voice, teasing, defiant, and still under his skin.

>

The hinges of the tower door gave their usual protesting creak, and Isaac looked up immediately, for once, not pretending he hadn’t been waiting.

Eddi stepped through the threshold, shaking out her hair, the dark curls catching the faint light of the desk lamps. She looked nothing like the sharp-edged girl who’d stalked down the corridor that afternoon- the cardigan, the loose jeans, the way she moved with quiet ease. But there was still something about her presence that seemed to fill the room.

Isaac’s sketchbook was propped up like a shield against his chest, though he wasn’t doing much sketching. His pencil hung idle between his fingers.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Eddi said, dropping her satchel onto the floor with a thud. The tools and books inside rattled like distant thunder.

“I wasn’t,” Isaac replied. Too quickly.

“Mm.” She crouched to pull everything out, spreading notebooks, rulers, and scraps of parchment across the floor in a chaos that made Isaac’s eye twitch. Then, with a small flick of her fingers, the blueprints on the far desk lifted into the air, unraveling like sails in a breeze. Lines shimmered faintly in the glow of the lamps, her DaVinci energy pulsing faintly through them.

She began to draw in midair, mechanical joints and valves forming with elegant precision. “If we’re actually going to finish this,” she said, tone breezy, “we’re doing it my way. Something useful. Not just a toy for warmongers.”

Isaac tilted his head, watching the gears spin and click together in her floating design. “You think you can do all that by yourself?”

Her lips curled. “Already am.”

That did it. Isaac’s jaw tightened, and his own DaVinci shimmered into being, the sketchbook rising off the desk, pencil darting through the air as invisible hands corrected one of her alignments.

“You’re off by three millimeters,” he said evenly.

Eddi gave a mock gasp. “Three millimeters? Tragic. How will this drawing of a machine that doesn't exist...ever recover?”

He met her sarcasm with a flat look, but the faintest hint of a smirk tugged at his mouth as he countered her next line with his own adjustments, their invisible forces tangling midair.

Soon, their twin energies danced together, blueprints shifting, lines crossing, metal parts suspended between them in an elegant orbit.

For a rare moment, they weren’t arguing, not really. It was competition, yes, but threaded with fascination. Every time Eddi leaned in, Isaac’s focus sharpened. Every time Isaac added a correction, Eddi met it with something more brilliant, more chaotic, more alive.

Silence thickened between them, not the uncomfortable kind, but something electric. The only sounds were the scrape of a floating pencil and the hum of the DaVinci currents twisting through the air like music neither would admit to hearing.

Isaac broke it first. “So, we’re not going to talk about earlier?”

Eddi didn’t look at him, she simply adjusted a gear alignment with a sharp flick of her wrist. “I don’t see the point,” she said. “We’ve got work to do. Unless you’d rather talk about your emotional issues instead?”

He huffed out a quiet, humorless laugh. “I don’t have emotional issues.”

“Sure you don’t,” she murmured. Her tone was teasing, but her eyes flicked briefly toward him, sharp and curious, as though she wanted to see if she could make him crack again.

The space between them hummed, half blueprint, half tension.

For a while, there was only the sound of their DaVinci hums; soft, low, mechanical, like two symphonies straining for dominance.

Then Isaac’s hand faltered. His head tilted, just slightly, as though the air had shifted too fast around him. The suspended blueprint shuddered, the lines rippling once before collapsing into a scatter of graphite.

Eddi caught the movement immediately. “What-?”

“I’m fine,” Isaac interrupted, though his voice was thinner than usual. He pressed a palm flat to his chest, the faintest crease forming between his brows. “Just… dizzy. You move like chaos embodied. It’s nauseating.”

Eddi blinked, suspicion flaring in her eyes. He didn’t look dizzy- he looked off. His skin had paled, and the faintest sheen of sweat gathered along his temple.

"I'm nauseating now, am I?"

"Yes...Maybe...no-ugh not everything is about you Leveret." Isaac stammered, as he found his desk shakily.

She stepped toward him as he sat back against the edge of his worktable. He angled himself slightly away from her, as if distance could mask the sound she could now hear: a subtle grinding, like gears catching and slipping.

“Isaac,” she said quietly, kneeling beside him. Her fingers brushed the hem of his sleeve, but she stopped short of touching him. “What’s happening?”

He didn’t look at her. His jaw tightened as he rubbed the heel of his palm against his sternum, as though trying to ease something back into rhythm. The faint clink of metal filled the silence.

“Nothing,” he managed. “It just… stutters sometimes.”

“Your heart?”

His eyes flicked to hers, sharp, defensive, the reflex of someone who never let anyone look too closely. “It’s fine.”

Eddi tilted her head, her expression somewhere between curiosity and quiet reproach. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Isaac gave a humorless breath of laughter, but it broke halfway. “You think everything has to be a secret with me,” he said, still avoiding her gaze. “Maybe you should try keeping one or two to yourself for once.”

Her mouth twitched, a shadow of a smile, but it didn’t last. “You’re the only person who knows my deepest, darkest secret,” she said softly. “And I don’t even get to know what’s keeping you ticking?”

That made him look at her. The light caught the steel flecks in his eyes, not cold, exactly, but hard. Protective.

“You wouldn’t understand it.”

“Try me.”

He didn’t. Instead, his hand shifted again, a small motion that drew Eddi’s eyes to the spreading dark patch on his jumper, a glint of silver grease shining against the fabric.

“Isaac,” she murmured, frowning. “You’re...leaking.”

He looked down, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his face. “It’s nothing.”

Eddi’s expression sharpened. “Take it off.”

“What?”

“Your jumper,” she said, already rising to her feet. “If anyone’s playing nurse tonight, it’s me.”

Isaac froze, utterly wrong-footed by her tone, the command in it. “That’s not necessary—”

“Neither was patching me up in your tower,” she interrupted, voice firm but gentle. “But you did it anyway.”

She stood there, one hand on her hip, the other outstretched as if daring him to argue.

For a moment, Isaac didn’t move. The gears in his chest whirred faintly again, a subtle rhythm that seemed to sync with the sound of Eddi’s breathing.

Then, finally, he reached for the hem of his jumper.

Isaac hesitated.

For a heartbeat, he simply stared at her, the challenge in her gaze, the steadiness of her voice. Then, with a sharp exhale through his nose, he lifted the hem of his jumper and pulled it over his head.

The motion was mechanical, deliberate, as though he had to remind himself not to think about it.

Eddi expected scars, maybe metal plates, but not this.

His skin was pale under the lamplight, faintly marred by the shadow of old seams, but mostly human. All except for the hollowed section on the left side of his chest, an opening the size of a small apple, bordered by flesh that seemed too smooth, too perfect, as though it had healed around the mechanism long ago.

Inside, she could see it: the clockwork heart.

It was the shape of a perfect heart made of brushed brass and iron, its inner cogs in constant motion. Gears the size of her fingertip spun and clicked in precise rhythm, their edges kissed with faint glimmers of blue light. Every few seconds, a piston pumped and released with a hiss, and the pulse inside it faltered- stuttered- before catching again.

A bead of dark oil rolled down the side of the mechanism, tracing a line over his ribs.

Eddi’s breath caught. “Isaac…”

He said nothing. His hand was at his sides, clenched so tightly his knuckles were white.

She blinked once, then moved- quiet, careful. The bowl Isaac had used a few nights ago to clean her arm lifted from a nearby shelf with a flicker of telekinetic energy. Water shimmered inside, rippling softly as it hovered. A cloth followed, twisting neatly into her hand.

She bent slight at the knee, so she was eye level with his chest. “You really shouldn’t leave it like that,” she murmured, voice soft but precise. “Oil’s conductive, it could cause a short.”

He gave her a look, something between disbelief and nervous amusement. “You’re worried about conductivity?”

“Of course I am,” she said. “You’re a walking marvel, Isaac. I can’t have you rusting on me.”

Before he could answer, she dampened the cloth. The sound of the water wringing out filled the still air. When she reached for him, he moved faster than she expected, his hand shot out, gripping her wrist, fingers digging in hard enough to make her gasp.

“Don’t.”

His voice was sharp, and beneath it- unmistakably- fear.

Eddi froze. For a moment, all she could see was the panic in his eyes, the same bright, fragile panic she’d seen in herself too many times before.

“I promise. I’ll be gentle,” she whispered. "You can keep your hand there if you need to?"

He held her there a moment longer, breath shallow, then slowly, very slowly, loosened his grip. His hand didn’t fall away completely; instead, it stayed, resting atop hers as though to guide her. Or to stop her if she hurt him.

Eddi pressed the damp cloth against the edge of the opening. The faintest hiss escaped the gears, a pulse of light flickering beneath the brass as if the heart itself objected. She moved carefully, wiping away the oil and grime, tracing the delicate seam where metal met flesh.

“Does it hurt?” she asked quietly.

He shook his head. “Not in the way you’d think.”

Her eyes stayed on the mechanism, utterly mesmerised. “How does it sync to your biology? Is it generating the pulse on its own or linked to your nervous system?”

Isaac blinked, of all things, he hadn’t expected that. “You’re cleaning my heart and you’re asking me for engineering specs?”

She smiled faintly, the corner of her mouth curving upward. “You’d rather I got emotional about it? Thought we didn't have emotional issues?”

He didn’t answer, but his hand tightened slightly around hers, a wordless admission that he didn’t mind this kind of closeness.

“Alright then,” he murmured finally, eyes softening. “Ask away, Leveret.”

The lamplight flickered across them, the girl with blood still under her fingernails, the boy with brass and metal in place of muscle and organ, and for a moment, the two of them were just scientists at work. Equal parts curiosity and care.

Eddi smiled, her thumb brushing a clean line across the edge of his clockwork heart. “You really are extraordinary, Isaac.”

Isaac didn't have a quick comeback for that compliment, if anything he worried his heart would stutter again, if it weren't for the meticulous care he was receiving from Eddi.

The rhythmic clicking of gears filled the silence, steady, fragile. Eddi dabbed at the final trace of oil before pulling the cloth back. Her hand lingered near the open cavity, just above the gleaming brass, as if she might feel the faint mechanical pulse beneath.

Isaac watched her, not the way one studies, but the way one notices, as though trying to remember how it felt to be seen.

Then, perhaps because quiet made him uneasy, he said softly, “You shouldn’t waste so much care on something that can’t feel it.”

Eddi frowned, glancing up. “What do you mean?”

He gestured vaguely to his chest, the faintest curl of bitterness in his mouth. “This. The heart. You clean it as though it matters. But it’s just machinery, Eddi. Brass, steel, oil. No different than a clock or a gun. That’s why I am the way I am, I suppose. Cold. Precise. It’s the nature of the thing that keeps me alive.”

She took a step back, her hand hovering briefly in the air, before she let it come to her side, tilting her head, studying him with quiet defiance. “That’s bullshit.”

Isaac raised a brow. “Bullshit?”

“Utter bullshit,” she repeated. “You think the heart’s what makes people kind or cruel? What makes them feel things?”

He gave a half-shrug. “That’s the general consensus.”

“Well, the general consensus is made up of people who want to sound poetic about biology.” She wiped her hands on the cloth, before throwing it in the small sink in the corner of the room. She came to stand by his side, leaning back on the worktop. “The heart doesn’t decide anything. It’s just a muscle. It reacts to the brain, to the mind. That’s where all the mess lives. Emotions, reasoning, empathy, guilt. It’s all up here.”

She tapped a finger on his forehead, which made him pull away, but still with a half smile.

He looked at her, faintly amused despite himself. “So you’re saying I’ve no excuse, then?”

“Oh, none at all.” She smiled, a crooked, teasing sort of smile. “Your heart’s metal, but your mind’s as flesh and bone as the rest of us. Surely it’s big enough to accommodate a few feelings.”

Isaac huffed a laugh, small, genuine, almost reluctant. “Is that what you think of me?”

“I think you hide behind that heart because it’s easier than admitting you actually care,” she said lightly, standing and brushing off her jeans. “But I also think you’re smarter than that.”

He looked up at her, eyes catching the lamplight, the gears in his chest whirring back into rhythm.

“And you?” he asked quietly. “What’s your excuse?”

Eddi gave him a faint grin over her shoulder as she started toward her bag. “Oh, mine? My mind’s definitely big enough. I just choose who to let into it.”

The metal doors of the lift opened with a soft clang.

Isaac sat there for a long moment, watching the girl who had tended his leaky heart like it wasn’t made of metal at all, and for the first time in a long while, the ticking inside his chest didn’t sound quite so mechanical.

The greenhouse was humid and silent, the air thick with the earthy scent of soil and damp leaves. Every so often, a droplet of condensation fell from the glass ceiling, landing with a faint plink against the stone floor.

Eddi sat stiff-backed on one of the long wooden benches, her satchel tucked between her boots. Beside her, Lenny slouched with his arms folded, glaring toward the opposite end of the room. Isaac sat there, perfectly upright, perfectly composed, the picture of indifference. His eyes flicked between them, cool and distant, like he was cataloguing specimens rather than classmates.

Mr. Selpie stood at the front, rubbing his hands together, a grin tugging beneath his mossy beard. “Now then. Rules for detention are quite simple,” he said, pacing slowly between the benches. “No talking, no using your abilities, and absolutely no harming my plants. They’re much more valuable than any of you.”

Eddi arched a brow at that, but said nothing.

“Right,” Selpie went on. “Mr. Sterling, you’ll come with me. I’ve fertiliser sacks in the shed that need moving, and I’ve no intention of throwing my back out again. Miss Leveret, Mr Night, you can work on the homework I assigned last lesson.”

Lenny hesitated. His gaze darted toward Eddi, then to Isaac, whose lips curved in something between a smirk and a sneer.

"So I'm lifting heavy bags of shit, and these two- the ones with telekinetic powers- get to sit here in the warm?" Lenny complained, his anger directed more to the upright boy, who gave him just as dirty of a look.

"Language, Mr Sterling," Selpie sighed, heavily, "Don't make it worse than it needs to be."

"Run along, mutt." Isaac scoffed, his eyes dropping to his notebook as he straightened it unnecessarily.

Eddi could practically feel Lenny vibrating beside her, she placed her hand on his forearm, a gesture which caught Isaac's eye, but he hid any sort of emotion with a sneer.

"Len," Eddi whispered quietly, "Manual labour has always been your sort of thing anyway."

"I don't want you on your own...with him," Lenny's eyes burned into Isaac's head. "You were so upset when you came back to Caliban, last time you were alone with him."

Eddi could tell Isaac was trying to pretend not to listen, but the way he gripped his notebook spine indicated to her, he heard every word.

Eddi nudged Lenny’s knee with her own from under the desk. “Go on, Len,” she murmured under her breath. “I’ll be fine. Promise.”

He didn’t look convinced, but Selpie was already waving him toward the door. “Chop chop! They’re not going to move themselves- unless, of course, Miss Leveret here decides to break a rule or two.”

Eddi offered a tight smile. “You're so funny, sir.” Her smile dropping, "Truly, hilarious."

"I know." Selpie agreed, not catching Eddi's sarcasm, or just choosing not to acknowledge it.

The door shut behind him and Lenny, leaving the greenhouse echoing with silence once more. Only the faint rustle of leaves and the distant clatter of tools from the shed broke it.

Eddi exhaled, pulling a thick textbook from her satchel and setting it on the bench in front of her. The cover gleamed faintly under the lamplight- Applied Mechanics: Theories and Designs.

Isaac tilted his head, his voice low and edged with amusement. “That doesn’t look much like botany.”

Eddi didn’t glance up. “Gold star, Mr Night. That’s because it isn’t.” She flipped the book open with a snap. “I already finished Selpie's homework.”

A soft hum- almost approval, almost challenge- came from Isaac’s corner. He lifted his own notebook and held it up so the lamplight caught the tidy, completed pages. “So did I.”

Their eyes met across the humid, plant-filled space.

Of course he had.

Eddi’s fingers drummed against the edge of her bench, her mind already running through every possible way to make the next hour bearable.

Something told her- looking at that quiet, smug expression- that bearable, was not going to be the way to describe this detention.

The minutes dragged, and the air in the greenhouse grew heavier- thick with heat, the musk of soil, and the unspoken tug-of-war between them.

"So what are you doing instead?" Isaac asked, his eyes darting between Eddi's face, and the way her hands worked feverishly with her pen.

Eddi just lifted the textbook again, showing him the title, then having used her finger to hold the page, she flicked the cover open, showing him the: Valves and Pressure pages.

"So our group project?" Isaac asked, he couldn't help the way his hands curled at the thought of being left out.

"Another gold star for Mr. Night." Eddi spoke, sarcastically, even without looking at him, Isaac saw the eye-roll she gave him. "Do you want a special badge for all these right answers, or you gonna leave me in some peace?"

“Bit off-topic, don’t you think?” Isaac said, ignoring her sarcasm like Selpie, only the way his knuckles whitened against the desk, indicated it had been an choice, and he was trying not to give Eddi the satisfaction of a reaction.

When Eddi didn't speak, her concentration remaining on her notes, and the words in the textbook, he slimped against his fist, idly levitating a few specs of dirt on his bench. “I thought this was detention, not your personal study hour.”

"Well you're the reason my personal study hour has been interrupted in the first place." Eddi huffed, eyes not leaving her pages of scribbles and equations.

"How did you come to that hypothesis?" Isaac's brow creased.

"The words "I wasn't enjoying watching that mongrel slobber all of over you", brought me to that hypothesis." Eddi grumbled, not taking a single second to look up. "You put my friend on his ass, because you didn't like him touching me. That sounds like a you problem."

It was Isaac's turn to drum his fingers on the wood, not out of boredom like Eddi had been, but out of irritation. Irritation that even though he was the centre of the conversation, Eddi hadn't taken a single moment to look at him.

Eventually, he scoffed. “You always this insufferable when you’re bored?”

“I'm not bored,” she murmured, pen scratching against the paper. "I'm busy...and annoyed."

Isaac leaned back in his chair, watching her. Her hair hung loose around her face as she bent over her equations, shielding the writing from onlookers, her own eyes flicking between numbers and sketches. She hadn't even looked at him- but she was still winning the exchange, every word slipping from her mouth without effort.

His leg bounced under the desk . “You know, it’s terribly rude not to make eye contact when someone’s trying to talk to you.”

Eddi didn’t even blink. “Then maybe take the hint, that I’m not trying to talk to you.”

Isaac exhaled through his nose, fighting the twitch of a smirk. Her composure shouldn’t have irritated him as much as it did. He was used to control- to having the upper hand. But with her, it was like trying to hold water in his palms.

He rose from his chair without warning. Eddi finally glanced up, brows knitting. “What are you—”

“Clearly,” he cut in, “you’re not hearing me properly from over there.”

He crossed the aisle and dropped into the seat beside her.

Eddi immediately tried to shift her chair away, but the legs screeched once, then refused to budge. She looked down, narrowing her eyes at his hand resting idly on the desk. The faint twitch of his fingers gave him away.

“Really?” she muttered. “You’ve realised I don't want to talk to you with my will, so you're going to telekinetically trap me against it?”

Isaac’s mouth curved. “Just trying to ensure your full attention, Miss Leveret.”

She rolled her eyes and turned her body slightly away from him, pretending to focus on her notes again. Her voice was sharp, but amused. “That’s a new level of desperation, even for you.”

Isaac’s patience snapped with a faint click of frustration. “Fine,” he said, his tone lower now. “If you’re going to ignore me, then at least tell me what you’re doing with our project.”

Eddi let out a sigh, dramatic and resigned. She turned her notebook toward him with a flick of her wrist. “There. Happy?”

Isaac leaned in, and the sarcasm died on his tongue. The page was covered in immaculate, confident sketches: cogs, valves, and intricate annotations mapping out a mechanical system he recognised immediately.

His heart.

Eddi tapped her pen against the diagram. “You’ve got a valve issue,” she said simply. “It’s what’s causing your leakage- the oil. The intake timing’s off by about two milliseconds. If we adapt the alignment here—” she pointed, “—and reinforce the gear teeth, you could solve the stutter entirely.”

Isaac stared, words caught somewhere between disbelief and awe.

“You’ve been... redesigning my heart,” he said finally, his voice quieter than before.

Eddi shrugged, feigning nonchalance, though her pulse thudded in her throat. “Technically, improving it. You’re welcome.”

For once, Isaac didn’t have a retort ready. His eyes flicked up from the sketch to her face, and there was something indecipherable in them, something far softer than she’d ever seen before.

Eddi’s gaze lingered a moment too long on his expression, the flicker of awe still there, mixed with something almost human beneath the usual steel. It unsettled her. She shut her notebook with a sharp thud that made him blink.

“Great. Now you’ve made me stop working,” she muttered, breaking the spell.

Isaac blinked out of whatever thought had held him. “That—” he gestured toward the notebook, “—isn’t even what we decided for the project.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Eddi said, leaning back in her chair, voice dripping with sarcasm. “But once I saw your dodgy heart, I couldn’t not think about it. It’s a design flaw that’s been haunting me. Like what if it just conks out, and I have to finish the project on my own.”

Isaac’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “Couldn’t stop worrying about my heart?”

Eddi looked up sharply, eyes narrowing, though the corner of her mouth betrayed her with the hint of a smile. “Don’t flatter yourself, Frankenstein. I was thinking about the mechanics, not the metaphor.”

“Mm. Of course,” Isaac murmured, leaning a little closer. “Strictly academic curiosity.”

“Exactly,” she replied, matching his tone. She didn’t notice that she’d shifted in her seat, shoulders angling toward him, elbows brushing the edge of the desk.

The space between them had shrunk without either of them acknowledging it. Their voices had softened, low enough that it felt like a secret.

Isaac’s eyes flicked to her lips just once, a glance so brief it could have been imagined. Eddi’s breath caught, though she didn’t move away.

“You should be flattered,” she teased quietly, “it’s not every day I take time out of my day to help out lost causes, honestly charity work isn't my thing.”

Isaac’s smirk deepened, but his voice, when he spoke, was almost rough. “And yet, you’re the one sitting there trying to fix it.”

Eddi swallowed hard, pulse fluttering. For a moment, neither of them moved. The air between them crackled with the same fragile intensity as the lightning that sometimes laced her touch.

Then—

“Fucking hell,” Lenny’s voice boomed from the doorway, making both of them jerk apart. “You could’ve warned me how heavy those bags were going to be!”

Lenny, thankfully, had been looking behind himself to Selpie, as he entered, so he didn't notice Eddi's reddened face when he walked in.

She scrambled to her feet, cheeks flushed, as she shoved her notebook in her bag, and put some distance between herself and Isaac.

Selpie followed a moment later, brushing dirt off his sleeves. “All right, detention’s up. You can all go. Don't do it again, yada-yada.”

Before either Isaac or Selpie could say another word, Eddi grabbed Lenny’s arm, muttering something about getting dinner before the kitchen closed. Her satchel was half-zipped, her cheeks still pink as she practically hauled him toward the door.

Isaac stayed where he was, watching her leave, her laughter, forced and too bright, echoing faintly in the humid air. His fingers flexed once against the desk before he exhaled, low and unsteady.

>

The Caliban common room was a warm chaos of laughter and lamplight. The boys had sprawled across every surface, their plates and books scattered like relics of a long day. Someone had smuggled in bread rolls, another the odd bit of ham or cheese, and Eddi found herself cross-legged on the rug beside Lenny, sharing the scraps they’d saved for her. Eddi hadn't realised she was leaning on Lenny's arm, her head on his shoulder, her mind completely elsewhere.

Lenny tore a roll in half, handing her the larger piece. “You’ve got to eat something proper, Ed,” he muttered, his voice all mock scolding.

“Bread’s proper enough,” she said, tearing into it, grateful for the distraction.

They talked about practice, about how Oliver nearly blew himself off the field again, about Raff’s hopeless crush on some Ophelia girl who’d sooner hex him than look at him. The usual noise. Eddi even managed a laugh, small and genuine, though her mind wasn’t there.

Every time Lenny brushed her shoulder or threw an arm around her, she caught herself thinking of Isaac’s heart, cold but with warm intentions. His voice had been too close in the greenhouse, his words too soft, and the memory made her chest tighten in ways she didn’t want to examine.

She forced herself back into the moment, reaching for another piece of bread, and froze.

The faintest hum trembled through her forearm, like a struck chord. The sound wasn’t audible, not to anyone else, but it thrummed in her bones, beneath her skin. Her smile faltered.

“Eddi?” Lenny’s voice was light, teasing. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

But before she could answer, the heavy oak doors swung open.

Vittorie burst in, tears streaking down her cheeks, with Francoise right behind her, pale, tight-lipped, her usual composure unraveling.

“Eddi!” Vittorie’s voice cracked as she ran to her.

Eddi was already on her feet, the scar now pulsing so violently she thought it might split open again. She met her sister halfway, dropping to her knees as Vittorie flung herself into her arms.

“What happened?” she demanded, voice low but sharp. “Who hurt you?”

Vittorie only sobbed harder, words tumbling out between gasps. “It’s Father-he-he wrote again—”

Eddi’s stomach dropped, her arms tightening protectively around her sister. With every choked sob that tumbled from Vittorie's mouth, the more the scar throbbed with a sickening ache.

The boys went quiet, all of them watching, unease creeping through the room like smoke. Francoise stepped forward, clutching a folded letter in her hand. Her voice shook when she spoke.

“You need to read this,” she said quietly.

Eddi took it, her fingers trembling.

Eddi unfolded the letter with careful, deliberate hands. The paper was thick and fine, her father’s stationary, of course, and it still smelled faintly of the old ink and cold air of his study.

The handwriting was unmistakable: sharp, slanted, elegant in the way a knife could be elegant.

Eddi’s breath hitched quietly in her throat. Her hands trembled once, then stilled; she folded the letter with a surgeon’s precision, sealing her expression shut as though she were folding herself away with it.

Behind her, Lenny’s voice broke the silence. “Ed? What’s it say?”

She didn’t answer.

Raff leaned forward, craning to peek at the letter before she could slip it into her satchel. “Is it bad? Is someone hurt?”

Eddi hid the paper away before he could see, the movement sharp and sudden enough to make the boys all flinch back a little. Her eyes were brighter than before, glinting with a storm she was barely keeping in.

“It’s nothing,” she said, too quickly, too evenly.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Raff pressed, but Eddi was already rising to her feet.

She reached down and caught Vittorie’s hand, pulling her sister gently but firmly upright. Vittorie was still crying, her breath hiccupping as she tried to speak. Eddi didn’t let her.

“Come on,” she said, her voice low and controlled. “We’re going to see Principal Gaulish.”

Lenny stood, frowning. “Ed, what’s going on?”

“I said it’s nothing.”

The word cracked like glass, and for a moment no one moved. Then Eddi turned away from all of them, her fingers tightening protectively around Vittorie’s.

Francoise followed.

The common room doors closed behind the sisters and the trailing girl with a dull, echoing thud.

The marble corridor was quiet, save for the faint echo of Eddi’s boots striking the floor. Vittorie kept close to her side, sniffling, her smaller hand trembling in Eddi’s grip.

They’d almost reached the west stairwell leading to Principal Gaulish’s office when Eddi heard the hurried footfalls behind them.

“Vittorie, wait!”

Francoise.

Eddi stopped so suddenly that Vittorie nearly stumbled into her. When she turned, her eyes were sharp, too sharp. “Go back to Ophelia Hall.”

Francoise hesitated, wringing her hands. “I just—Vittorie’s upset, and you looked—”

“I said go back.” Eddi’s tone cut through the air, all the warmth burned out of it.

Francoise flinched but didn’t move. “I only want to help—”

Eddi took a step forward, her voice rising, trembling with the strain she was trying to hide. “You’ve done enough. Go. To. Your. Room.”

Before Francoise could answer, a deeper voice came from the shadows of the hallway.

“Leave her alone.”

Isaac stepped out from around the corner, his usual cold composure sharpened to something darker. His expression wasn’t anger exactly, more like suspicion honed into defence. He moved to stand slightly between Francoise and Eddi, his posture squared.

“Is this how you talk to people who care about your sister?” His tone was low, clipped, almost dangerous.

Eddi’s jaw clenched. “This isn’t your concern, Night.”

Isaac ignored that, glancing between the tear-streaked Vittorie and Francoise. “Seems like it might be, considering the way you’re dragging your sister through the corridors like she’s under arrest.”

Eddi took a step closer, the air between them taut as wire. “Don’t start with me.”

Before she could say more, Vittorie’s soft, shaking voice broke through. “It’s Father,” she whispered. “He sent a letter, he’s coming here—he said I failed, and he’s angry—”

Eddi spun on her sister, panic flashing through her eyes. “Vittorie, stop!”

But it was too late. Isaac’s expression shifted, comprehension, then quiet fury. His voice dropped, steady but cutting. “So that’s it, then. He’s punishing her again, or him, isn’t he?”

Eddi’s face went pale, her voice trembling now, low and dangerous. “I said. It’s none of your business.”

The silence between them hummed like a struck chord.

Vittorie was crying again. Francoise looked between them, uncertain, frightened by the tension that had thickened the air.

Finally, Eddi turned, her voice breaking as she spoke over her shoulder. “Come on, Vittorie.”

Her sister obeyed without another word, and the two disappeared around the corner, Eddi’s hand still tight around hers, like she could shield her from what was coming.

Isaac watched until they were gone, his jaw tight, his hand flexing unconsciously at his side. Francoise looked up at him, wide-eyed.

“Isaac… what did you mean?”

He didn’t answer. He just stared down the corridor where Eddi had gone, the gears in his chest ticking faintly beneath the silence.

>

Principal Gaulish’s office smelled faintly of pipe smoke and parchment, the air too warm from the fire burning in the hearth. The walls were lined with old portraits; past headmasters, all watching with stern, unblinking eyes.

Eddi stood before the great mahogany desk, Vittorie sitting small and stiff in the chair beside her. Gaulish adjusted his spectacles, looking over the letter Eddi had placed before him.

“I see,” he murmured, his expression unreadable. “Your father intends to visit to discuss your sister’s progress.”

Eddi’s fingers twitched against her sides. “You don’t understand—he can’t—”

“Miss Leveret,” Gaulish interrupted, his tone even but firm. “Parents have every right to be involved in their children’s education. I can hardly refuse a visit from a benefactor of Nevermore.”

Eddi’s jaw tightened. “He isn’t coming to talk about her education. He’s—” she stopped herself, glancing toward Vittorie, whose hands were balled in her lap. “He’s… difficult. He’ll make things worse, not better.”

Gaulish folded the letter, placing it carefully on the desk. “Your father has always been most generous with his support of the academy. If he believes Vittorie’s studies are slipping, then perhaps it would be best to listen to his concerns.”

Vittorie’s breath hitched, and Eddi’s voice sharpened in defence. “She’s one of the top in her class. You know that.”

“Yes, yes,” Gaulish replied with a weary wave of his hand. “But grades are not everything. Discipline, application, responsibility—those are traits your father values highly, I’m sure.”

Eddi’s heart hammered. “You have no idea what he values,” she muttered under her breath.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly, forcing her voice flat.

Gaulish leaned back in his chair, studying her. “Miss Leveret, I do understand that family matters can be… complicated. But this is not the place to air them. When your father arrives, I expect both you and your sister to behave with respect. We mustn’t bring unnecessary attention to the school, understood?”

It took everything in Eddi not to lash out, to not let the magic under her skin tremble and break loose. She took a slow breath, steadying her voice.

“Yes, sir,” she said finally, but her tone was brittle glass.

Gaulish gave a satisfied nod. “Good. You may go. And tell your father I look forward to his visit.”

Eddi didn’t trust herself to speak again. She reached for Vittorie’s hand, cold and trembling, and led her from the room.

Once the heavy door closed behind them, Eddi exhaled a single, furious breath through her nose.

“He’s useless,” she hissed.

Vittorie’s voice was small. “What are we going to do?”

Eddi glanced down the empty corridor, her scar beginning to itch faintly beneath her sleeve, the vow sensing her sister's growing anxiety. “I’ll think of something,” she murmured, her voice low but certain. “I won’t let him touch you again.”

The hallway outside Gaulish’s office was cold and dim, lit only by the flicker of wall sconces. Vittorie’s breathing came fast and shallow beside her, each inhale catching on the edge of a sob.

“He’s not going to hurt you,” Eddi murmured, her voice soft but trembling, wrapping her arms tight around her kid sister. “He won’t. I’ll fix it, I promise.”

“You said that before,” Vittorie whispered, eyes wide and wet. Eddi's chest ached from the sight of her looking so frightened. “And he—”

Eddi stopped her, leaning back gripping her sister’s shoulders. “Don’t,” she said sharply. “Don’t say it out loud.”

Vittorie nodded, swallowing back tears. Eddi was about to lead her away when a voice echoed down the corridor.

“Eddi.”

Isaac stepped from the shadowed end of the hall, Francoise trailing nervously behind him. He looked too calm, too measured, and it only made Eddi’s pulse hammer harder.

Her voice snapped before she could stop it. “Do you ever do what I ask? I said to leave us alone!”

Isaac’s expression didn’t shift. “It didn’t look like you were managing on your own,” he said evenly, eyes flicking from her to Vittorie’s tear-streaked face.

Eddi’s hands curled into fists. “You don’t know anything about this. This is none of your business.”

“I know enough,” he replied. His tone wasn’t cruel, but it carried that infuriating edge of certainty she’d come to hate.

He turned slightly, nodding toward Francoise. “Take Vittorie back to your dorm.”

Francoise hesitated, looking between them, but Isaac’s quiet authority seemed to root her. She stepped forward, reaching gently for Vittorie’s hand.

Eddi moved instantly, placing herself between them. “She’s not going anywhere. She's my sister. She needs me.”

Isaac met her glare, unflinching. “She doesn’t need to hear you shouting,” he said calmly. “You’re angry. I get it. But you’re not helping her.”

“Don’t tell me what helps my sister,” Eddi hissed. “You think you understand? You have no idea.”

Vittorie’s small voice broke through the tension. “Eddi… it’s okay.”

Eddi turned to her, startled. Vittorie’s hand was already in Francoise’s. The younger girl looked terrified, but there was a strange kind of trust in her eyes, like she needed Isaac to take control because Eddi couldn’t.

Isaac’s tone softened. “Go on,” he said quietly to Francoise, “and make sure she stays with you till morning.”

Francoise gave a quick nod, and the two girls disappeared down the corridor. The sound of their footsteps faded, leaving Eddi and Isaac alone in the silence.

Eddi turned back to him, her whole body trembling, not just with anger, but with exhaustion, fear, guilt, all tangled together.

“You had no right,” she said through gritted teeth, she takes staggered steps towards him, a finger raised, as she prods into his chest, teeth gritted, "You had no right."

Isaac’s voice was quiet, but it cut cleanly through her fury. “Maybe not. But someone had to separate you from her. You were only making her more frightened.”

Eddi blinked at him, her breath catching. For a heartbeat, she didn’t know if she was about to hit him, or fall apart.

When Eddi could still hear the echo of Vittorie’s footsteps through the thudding of her own heart and shaky breaths, fading down the hall, something in her snapped.

“You had no right to send her away,” she shouted again, her voice sharp and rising. “You don’t get to walk in, act like you know what’s best for her, for us, and order people around like they belong to you!”

Isaac didn’t flinch. “I'm trying to help.”

“Help?” she barked a bitter laugh. “You’ve done nothing but interfere since the start of this year! You think you can just fix everything with your cold logic because of that damn metal heart of yours!”

She moved toward him then, fast and furious, her words tumbling out like fire. “You don’t feel anything, do you? You just, watch. Judge. Pick at everyone else’s pain like you’re too perfect to have any of your own!”

Isaac’s jaw tightened, but he stayed silent. That only seemed to enrage her more.

“Say something!” she shouted, shoving at his chest. “For once, say something!”

“I am saying something,” he said finally, catching her wrists before she could hit him again, not roughly, just enough to stop her trembling hands from shoving at him again. His voice was low, controlled, but there was a tension beneath it. “You’re upset. You’re going to draw half the school here if you don’t stop and calm down.”

“Good!” she spat, twisting against his grip, trying to break free only for his grip to tighten. “Maybe someone will finally hear me!”

He exhaled slowly, trying to keep his composure as she struggled. Then, in one swift motion, he shifted his hold, holding both wrists in one hand, using his telekineses to spin her, turning her just enough so her back was against his chest. His arm snaked around her waist, as he continued to hold her hands tightly. She stumbled slightly, and before she could curse him again, he guided her backward, firmly, but not unkindly, toward the stone wall behind them.

“Isaac—”

“Stop. That's enough,” he said quietly, pressing his palm to the cold surface of the wall.

The wall gave way beneath his touch, stone grinding softly against stone. A narrow, shadowed passageway revealed itself, lit faintly by a thin seam of blue light.

Eddi froze, her anger faltering for a beat. “What—?”

“I’m taking you somewhere quiet,” he said. His voice had dropped to that steady, calm register that always made her want to hit him and lean on him at the same time. “You’re upset, and half the school’s about to start whispering if they see you like this.”

“I don’t care what they whisper,” she snapped, but her voice cracked halfway through.

“I know,” he said simply. “That’s why I do.”

Her breath hitched. Isaac loosened his grip just enough to guide her through the narrow opening. She didn’t resist this time, not really. Her body was still trembling, but the fight had started to slip out of her.

The wall sealed behind them with a soft thud, swallowing the light of the corridor.

Eddi realised then that her hands were still in his, her pulse fluttering fast beneath his cold fingers. She tugged trying to free her wrists.

"Let-go." She spoke gruffly, tugging to punctuate each word, but Isaac's grip tightened briefly.

"Are you going to calm down?"

Eddi wanted to scream at him, but she also wanted to collapse into his arms. Taking a shaky breath through her nose, closing her eyes in an attempt to compose herself, she gave him a singular nod.

Isaac waited a beat, before slowly loosening his hold on her hands. Once Eddi felt the slow shift in his grip, she snatched her hands away, wiping furiously at her face, to clear the tear tracks on her cheeks.

She tried to speak, but her voice barely came out a whisper. “Where are you taking me?”

Isaac’s gaze flicked down to her, eyes softer now, the edge gone. “Iago Tower,” he said. “Somewhere you can fall apart in peace.”

And with that, he led her down the narrow passageway, each step echoing with the sound of two people who didn’t yet know whether they were running from something, or toward each other.

The climb through the passageway seemed endless, though Eddi barely registered her steps. Her breaths came in shallow bursts, her heart still pounding in her ears. By the time they reached the familiar, cluttered expanse of Iago Tower, her knees felt hollow, her mind a storm.

Isaac crossed the room first, saying nothing. He dragged his chair away from his desk and turned it toward her, his expression stern.

“Sit,” he said quietly, nodding to it.

Eddi shook her head, her arms still crossed protectively over her chest. “I’m fine.”

Isaac’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “You’re not.”

Before she could object again, a small, unseen pressure nudged her knees forward. She stumbled a step, then another, and the chair scraped against the floor until the backs of her legs hit it. Isaac raised an eyebrow, not smug but firm.

“You need to calm down,” he said evenly. “Then tell me what this is about.”

Eddi’s body sagged, the fight draining out of her. She sat, her hands trembling, as she slowly put her head in them. For a long moment, she couldn’t look at him. The silence pressed down like a weight.

Then, the words began to spill out, at first halting and stuttered, then in a rush.

“I-I got another l-letter,” she whispered. “Well...Vittorie did. From my father. He’s—he’s coming here. He says Vittorie’s grades are slipping, that she’s wasting time on sport, and that he wants to talk to Gaulish.”

Her breath hitched. “He’s going to try to take her away. Or—” Her voice broke. “Or he’ll hurt Jago again. He’ll punish him to make me learn. And I can’t stop it-I can’t help-I don't know what to do-”

Her words dissolved into shallow gasps. She pressed a hand to her chest, the other gripping the edge of the chair so tightly her knuckles blanched.

Isaac was in front of her in a heartbeat, kneeling so that he was level with her. His hands hovered uncertainly before resting on her knees, cold against her burning skin.

“Eddi,” he said softly. “Breathe.”

“I can’t-I can't-I can't help them-”

“Yes, you can. Look at me.”

Her eyes lifted, tear-bright, her chest heaving. Isaac spoke again, slow and deliberate. “In. Out. Do what I do.”

He took a breath, deep and measured. She tried to follow, but the panic clawed higher in her throat.

“Eddi,” he said again, his voice almost breaking now. “You’re safe here. He’s not here. I am. You're here with me. Breathe.”

But she couldn’t, not properly. Her shoulders shook, her vision narrowing until all she could see was him: Isaac, steady and silent, his hand ghosting against her jaw as though he wasn’t sure whether to touch her or not.

And then, without a word, he did.

He leaned forward and kissed her.

It wasn’t rough or claiming, it was quiet, instinctive, a desperate act of grounding. His lips were cold against hers, but steady, and it was enough to make the air rush back into her lungs.

For a heartbeat, everything stopped, the panic, the trembling, even the sound of her father’s voice echoing in her head.

Then, just as suddenly, Isaac pulled back. His breath was uneven now too, his eyes searching hers with something almost like fear.

“Better?” he murmured.

Eddi blinked at him, still trembling, still breathless, but her lungs worked again.

“What—” she started, her voice catching somewhere between anger and disbelief.

Isaac stood slowly, his hand falling away from her cheek, his expression serious once more. “You needed to breathe,” he said quietly. “That’s all.”

But the way his gaze lingered on her lips betrayed the lie.

Eddi just stared at him. Her lips still tingled, her breath catching somewhere between a gasp and a question she couldn’t find words for.

“What—” Her voice cracked. “What was that?”

Isaac didn’t answer right away. He was standing over her now, his expression a little dark, that same careful composure back in place, but his hands were clenched into fists at his sides.

“You were panicking,” he said at last, the words quiet but taut. “I was trying to stop you from—”

“From what?” she cut in sharply, standing so suddenly the chair scraped behind her. “From falling apart? From embarrassing myself? Or from making you uncomfortable?”

He didn’t flinch. “From breaking,” he said simply.

The room was silent but for the faint whir of his clockwork heart. Eddi could feel her pulse hammering, her anger slipping into something else, something that made her skin prickle and her thoughts cloud.

She took a step closer. “You don’t get to decide when I break.”

Isaac tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as if to study her. “No,” he said. “But I can stop you from pretending you’re fine when you’re not.”

Her breath caught again, this time not from panic. He was too close now, she could feel his even breaths brushing the baby hairs on her forehead. Her hands flexed at her sides, aching to push him away, or pull him closer, she wasn’t sure which.

“Don’t do that,” she said softly.

“Do what?”

“Talk to me like you know me.”

Isaac’s gaze dropped to her mouth, then back to her eyes. “Maybe I do.”

Eddi’s heart stuttered painfully. “You don’t.”

“Then tell me what I’m missing.”

The challenge in his tone sent a shiver through her. She could see the faintest smirk threatening the corner of his mouth, teasing, testing. His confidence was infuriating, and magnetic.

“I think you like getting under my skin,” she said, her voice low.

Isaac stepped closer still, until there was barely a breath between them. “That's not telling me something I don't know,” he murmured.

Eddi swallowed hard, her anger unraveling into something electric and reckless. She hated the way her body leaned toward him before her mind caught up.

“I hate you.” she whispered.

Isaac’s smirk deepened, his voice dropping to a murmur that brushed against her skin. “Looks like it.”

The silence between them trembled; alive, dangerous, inevitable.

Eddi’s hand lifted before she could stop it, her fingers brushing against the fabric of his sleeve, before it landed on her chest. The metal heart in his chest gave a faint, uneven grind.

He caught her wrist; not to stop her, but to hold it there, his touch deliberate, almost tender. His thumb brushed the inside of her wrist where her pulse fluttered.

“Easy,” he said quietly. “You might start to think I actually have a heart.”

Eddi met his gaze, her lips parting just slightly. “I've already seen it,” she breathed.

The space between them vanished.

Isaac’s breath brushed against her lips, his voice a whisper of steel and smoke. “Careful, Eddi,” he murmured. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“I didn’t ask for anything,” she said, though her voice betrayed her; soft, trembling, wanting.

He smiled then, slow and deliberate, a hint of mischief twisting through it. “No? Could’ve fooled me.”

Her pulse jumped. She hated the way he could make her feel so small and so powerless. “You’re insufferable,” she hissed.

“And yet,” Isaac drawled, stepping closer until her back brushed the edge of his desk, “you haven’t walked away.”

Eddi’s breath caught. “Maybe I’m just curious to see how long it'll take for you, to kiss me again.”

His eyes darkened, the faint glint of the clockwork heart reflected in their depths. “Oh, I can be very patient,” he said softly. “Can you?”

Eddi opened her mouth to retort, but the words died as his hand rose to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The touch was maddeningly light, his fingers brushing against her skin as if testing how much she’d allow.

She didn’t move.

Isaac leaned closer, his lips grazing the corner of her jaw, close enough that she could feel the warmth of him. “You tremble every time I touch you,” he whispered.

“You wish,” she breathed, but her voice had gone hoarse.

He laughed under his breath, low and rich, the sound vibrating against her throat. “You’re shaking, Eddi. Don’t pretend it’s an aftershock from your panic attack.”

Eddi finally found her strength, pushing at his chest, but not hard enough to make him step back. “You think you can just—”

Isaac caught her wrist again, firm but gentle, guiding her hand over the metal cage of his chest, the faint tick and whirr beneath her palm. “You’re the one who said my heart wasn’t for feeling,” he murmured. “So why does it race when you’re near?”

Eddi’s lips parted, her breath stuttering. “Maybe you’re overheating.”

He smiled, the faintest curve of his mouth, dangerous, knowing. “Maybe you are.”

The air between them thickened, heavy with the kind of silence that hummed before breaking. His hand lifted again, slow and deliberate, his fingertips tracing the line of her throat, the curve of her jaw.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, voice barely a whisper.

Eddi’s pulse thrummed beneath his fingers. “You wouldn’t,” she managed.

Isaac’s lips brushed hers, barely there, a ghost of a kiss that made her shiver. “Probably not.”

Eddi closed her eyes, as she leaned closer, eyes snapping open when her lips didn't meet Isaac's, realising he'd moved his head back, his face twisted into a smirk.

"Ask nicely." Isaac teased, it made Eddi's skin prickle with a heat, that she felt rush her whole body, trickling down before settling in the pit of her stomach.

When she didn’t answer, he smiled against her mouth, that infuriating, perfect confidence still in place.

"Come on, Edrisse," Isaac rasped, "Beg."

Eddi felt her heart stop, the only sound in her ears was this weird warping noise. Letting out a shaky breath, then swallowing thickly, she managed to make her lips move.

"Please...Isaac."

"Please Isaac, what?" Isaac toyed with her hair between his fingers, his eyes darting up and down her body.

"Isaac, please...kiss me."

Isaac took another moment to look Eddi's figure over, like he was making a calculation or a calculated move, then eventually he leaned in, pressing his lips firmly to Eddi's.

The the kiss deepened, slow at first, exploratory, the faint metallic hum of his heart quickening between them. She tasted him, and her thoughts unraveled completely.

Isaac’s hand slipped to the back of her neck, steadying her as her knees wavered. Soon his hand trailed from her hair, to the side of her neck, his thumb and forefinger splitting either side of her throat. She tried to respond in kind, her fingers reaching up to curling into his jumper.

But the kiss broke, suddenly, leaving Eddi with a gasped breath, lips parted in the haste. Isaac's hand went to her wrists collecting them in his grip, pulling her faint touch from his clothes. He didn't push her away, instead he held her tighter. One hand on her throat, the other gripping her wrists tightly.

Isaac’s forehead rested against hers, his voice low and rough with restraint. "Remember, Leveret. This is my house."

Isaac jutted his brows up, indicating he was talking about where the two of them were standing, in his secret lair, in Iago tower. "My house, my rules."

Eddi felt lust and heat sweep her body, remembering, who she was and attempting to compose herself as she managed a stuttering grin, "I've never been very good with rules, Mr. Night."

Once again, Eddi watched Isaac's eyes go even darker, his usual brown, doe eyes, almost black, as he licked his lips, "We'll see about that."

Eddi tried to kiss Isaac again, but she realised for the first time that night, that Isaac Night was actually stronger than her. Or at least he was when her hands were wrapped close to her chest, unable to use her own telekinesis.

"Isaac." Eddi whined, as he kept her away from his lips with a wicked grin, enjoying the fact she was already crumbling bit by bit.

"Like I said, this is my house." Isaac put his weight onto Eddi, so she was pressed harder into his desk, his knee slipping between her legs, but yet to apply any pressure. "You're gonna follow my rules, Leveret."

Eddi huffed, her brattiness overtaking her neediness, as she grew more and more frustrated as she went without what she wanted.

"Please," Eddi rolled her eyes, "Don't act like you're not a virgin, Isaac."

Eddi watched Isaac's eyes narrow, before his hand snaked back around her throat, this time he squeezed the sides, testing, but serious with his stare.

"Oh, sweetheart," Isaac sighed, his hand tightening as he leant closer to Eddi's face, "You're gonna wish I was a virgin."

Eddi swallowed a whine as her smirk faltered briefly, before she cocked an eyebrow, waiting for Isaac's next move. When nothing seemed to happen fast enough for Eddi's liking, she tried to press her hips closer to Isaac's. Trying to get a rise from the young DaVinci as she attempted to grind on him, whilst not breaking her eye contact.

Isaac pushed her harder against the desk, but moved his hips away, making Eddi pout, "Move another inch without me telling you, and you won't be coming tonight."

Eddi had to bite her tongue, so she didn't audibly gasp, at the absolute filth that just came from Isaac Night's mouth.

"Sorry?" She stammered, more as a question, but he took it at face value.

"That's better, Leveret," Isaac's face disappeared into Eddi's neck, his lips ghosting the skin, not kissing, but dragging, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Eddi tipped her head back, letting out a small sigh once Isaac did connect his lips to her smooth flesh. First it was just a few fluttering kisses, featherlike, then they became hungrier till Eddi swore she felt his teeth graze the skin of her throat, biting her lip to hold in a moan.

"Isaac, please." She whimpered. Eddi wasn't used to not being in control, in fact she hated it. Even when it came to the bedroom, she was always the one to make the moves, often using men as a stress relief. However, this was different, it was her turn to be used, right now, she was just another of Isaac's lab experiments.

Eddi felt Isaac smirk against her neck, before he came back up to meet her eyes, his hand trailing down her clothed stomach. Slipping under her jumper and t-shirt, his fingers splayed over her muscular stomach, they danced along her skin, feeling over the bumps of her abs.

Shuffling on her feet slightly, Eddi felt herself growing self-conscious with the meticulous way he seemed to feel around her body. She knew her body wasn't like most girls, because of Bloodrush and her appetite for sport, she had very defined muscle structure, if anything her body resembled more of a teenage boys; strong arms, athletic torso. Also, all of her sport and exercise had meant her boobs were more than under developed, basically pecks.

Swallowing thickly, her eyes darted around the room, the longer Isaac's hands inspected her body, the hotter she felt, only not from lust but quiet embarrassment.

"Are you embarrassed?"

Eddi's eyes snapped back to Isaac, worried he'd read her mind, she forced a pathetic breathy scoff, as she tried her best to sound confident. "Of what? Kissing you? The longer I stand here the more I regret it."

Isaac's lips twitched, but he didn't quite break into a full smirk, instead he lifted his chin, his hand slipping from her abs into her underwear, in one swift movement. Eddi gasped, and tried to wriggle away, but her back was already to the desk, and Isaac was blocking any other escape.

"You're really gonna have to learn to watch that mouth of yours," Isaac continued, his fingers were cold as they ran over her clit and folds, she was shamefully aroused, and he could tell the moment his fingers met her entrance, which was already slicked with wetness, "If you want me to help you with this...you're gonna have to behave."

Mouth hanging open, Eddi couldn't seem to form any words, as quiet gasps continued to roll from her throat. Isaac's fingers continued their inspection of her most intimate area. He rubbed slow circles into her clit, applying the most minimal pressure, he could get away with, enjoying the way Eddi bucked her hips in desperation for more. Every so often, Isaac's fingers trailed to her entrance, not quite putting enough pressure to push his fingers in, but just enough the tips of his fingers dipped just beneath the threshold, then he'd move them back up to continue his torturous movements on her swollen button.

However, just as soon as he started, he took his hand away, removing it completely from Eddi's underwear, coming to rest on the bare skin of her hip. Eddi made an audible sound of irritation as he did so, which caused Isaac to tsk. "So impatient, Leveret. We're really going to have to work on that."

"You go too slow." Eddi complained, she tried to push against him once again, but he held her still, this time with his telekinesis alone. He had stepped back further, holding her in place with his mind, as he thought carefully for a response.

"I like playing with you." Isaac smiled, his fingers twitched at his sides, and Eddi felt her jumper and t-shirt rising together. Initially her arms were locked at her sides, then they flew above her head, giving Isaac better access to remove the top half of her clothing. She could do nothing but squirm.

Stood there in nothing but a pitiful excuse of a bra and a pair of leggings, Eddi felt her face grow hot, now Isaac could see so much of her skin. Her eyes trailed down to the scar on her forearm, it had healed since it had last split open, leaving just zigzagged lightning-like white scaring all the way up her forearm stopping at her elbow. But it wasn't alone. Eddi had a plethora of other ugly carvings littering her body. Gauges in her flesh. Some were from Bloodrush, the others...feeble attempts to distract herself from the agony her father was inflicting.

"Isaac," Eddi's voice was small now, so faint and quiet, Isaac tilted his head in curiosity, "Please...I don't like being this exposed."

Isaac's smirk faltered for a moment, something seemed to wash over his face- concern, sympathy...maybe even regret, but he visibly shook it off, eyes moving up and down Eddi's half-clothed body.

"Why not?" Isaac's voice did seem to hold some genuine confusion, "You're beautiful."

Eddi scoffed again, rolling her eyes, "Please. You're just a man, with an erection. You probably wouldn't think twice about my body, if I wasn't standing here half naked, right now."

"You're wrong," Isaac's words were firm, and quickly thought of, his face now holding genuine offence, "I've been imagining you naked since I saw you in the woods, that night of the bonfire. Watching you get defiled by that bogus gorgon."

"Creep." Eddi spat out, but she felt her whole body flush with heat, pooling in her underwear, she was confused why the thought of Isaac imagining her naked made her so hot and bothered.

"Be nice, Eddi." Isaac rumbled, his fingers twitching again, Eddi felt her leggings start to crawl down her thighs, and she tried to squeeze them shut to keep the fabric in place, but it was pointless, as they quickly bunched around her ankles. "Or I'll just leave you as the dripping mess that you are now."

When Eddi's leggings were all the way down, Isaac puppeteer-ed her legs, and flicked the fabric away, leaving her standing in nothing but a bra and panties. Eddi wishes she'd worn black underwear, but how was she supposed to guess this would be how her evening would end up. Standing in front of Isaac in her undergarments, with a big wet patch formed on her light blue underwear.

"Already so wet for me," Isaac admired, closing the space between them again. Without another word, he smashed their lips together, hungrily they chased each other's, Isaac nipping Edd's bottom lip with his teeth. His hands came up her ribs, the skin beneath his fingers pimpling with goosebumps, as they made their way to her bra, unhooking it from the back, and tossing it to some corner of his lap.

Eddi didn't have a chance to make a degrading comment about them, as Isaac bent his head to suck one of her nipples into his mouth, as he rolled the other between his forefinger and thumb. In defiance, Eddi bit her lip to suppress her groans, not wanting to give Isaac the satisfaction of knowing he was making her feel this good.

Isaac's eyes flicked up, his mouth still wrapped around the delicate flesh, growling when he saw Eddi's eyes closed, and the rebellious silence she was trying to maintain. Sinking his teeth into the flesh around her nipple, Eddi couldn't not gasp in more shock than pain.

"I want to hear every sound you make. Don't hold back, or I'll stop completely." Isaac threatened, continuing with his rough assault on her breasts, bitting and sucking on and around her nipples, peppering her chest with loud and obnoxious hickies. Blooms of purple and red, littering her chest like an obscure battlefield.

"Isaac." Eddi whined, her foot nearly stamping with her bratty tone. Isaac released her nipple with a satisfied pop, as he glanced over his handy work.

"You look even prettier with my marks all over you." He commented, his hand dropping back to Eddi's underwear. This time he didn't slip under the fabric, his hand just rested over the top of her soaking mound. "Keep your eyes open...or I'll bruise this too."

Eddi bit her lip, she was starting to like this game, "But that actually sounds inviting."

Isaac cocked his head, his hand slapped hard against Eddi's clothed core, roughly squeezing it afterwards. Eddi groaned, the corners of her mouth were twitched upwards, which told Isaac that she liked him being rough. "Look at you, so needy, and dripping for me."

"And what you gonna do about it, Mr. Night?" Eddi teased, biting her lip, eyes glinting with anticipation, as she felt her core throb, hungrily, under the bruising pressure Isaac's hand was still applying to it.

"I think I'm gonna put that mouth to better use." Isaac grinned, holding in a laugh as Eddi's hips bucked for his hand, when he took it away, pushing down on her shoulders, he wasn't surprised when she tried briefly to fight back, but inevitably submitted to the pressure, dropping to her knees on the cold floor of Iago Tower.

Isaac held Eddi's arms to her sides with his DaVinci, as he began to undo his own belt and zipper, freeing himself easily from the restraints of his trousers and boxers. His hard on slapped his stomach as it sprung free from its restrains, the tip pink and leaking.

Eddi had to keep her eyes from going wide with surprise, when she was face to face with Isaac's long and hard member. Her mouth watered eagerly, and she not so subtly swallowed her drool, which made Isaac give a dark chuckle, "You want it, Leveret?"

Eddi chewed her lip- yes, she did want it- but she didn't want to give Isaac the satisfaction of her words, so she nodded once.

"I'm going to need a little bit more than that?" Isaac tsk, head cocking to the side, "Beg for it."

Eddi looked at him defiant, but she knew he could see in her eyes, she wanted it so badly, but he wanted to hear it, "How am I going to please you, if you won't let me use my hands?"

Eddi referred to the fact that Isaac still had her arms pinned at her sides, but Isaac just laughed again, a shake of his head, before his hands came either side of her face. "I don't want you to use your hands, sweetheart."

Catching on, Eddi managed to muster up some courage, wanting to play the longer game with Isaac, wanting him to see, she wasn't ready to submit yet, "Aren't you worried I'll bite it off?"

"You won't get the chance to," Isaac growled, his hands tightening against the sides of her head, his tip bumping her bottom lip, drizzling some of his pre-cum on her chin, "Not when I'm fucking your throat."

Eddi's lips parted, as she attempted to give him another quick witted comeback, but this just gave Isaac all the access he needed, as he thrust his member straight into her mouth. Eddi had to choke back a gag as his tip bumped the back of her throat, tears springing to her eyes, as she coughed. Giving her no time to catch her breath, Isaac started to rock his hips, using his hands on her face as leverage, before eventually one slipped into her hair, bunching it in his fist.

Eddi's eyes continued to water as he began to increase his pace, his tip nudging the back of her throat with each reentry. In an attempt to regain some control, she hollowed her cheeks, trying to suck as he thrusted, but Isaac was easily pleasing himself, her mouth nothing more than a outlet for that pleasure.

"Fuck," Isaac sighed, his head tilting backwards, as his pace slowed slightly, finally allowing Eddi to get herself together enough to tighten her lips around him, "Knew I could shut you up."

Eddi hummed, aggressively, her brows furrowing with annoyance, and her knees bucking as Isaac's power loosened in his euphoric state. His head snapped back up, Eddi's knees locking back into place as he remembered to keep control. He look down at Eddi the look of playful defiance dancing in her watering eyes.

"That's enough," Isaac decided, removing himself from Eddi's mouth, a string of drool trailing itself from his tip to her lips, her mouth agape in mild shock.

Eddi's breaths were ragged, as she swallowed dryly, trying to get herself back into some kind of decent state. For a moment she felt Isaac's hand on her face soften, the one in her hair, untangled itself, as it smoothed over her forehead. His thumbs rubbed her reddening cheeks, as he helped soothe her back into the room. Isaac made her look up at him, admiring the way her cheeks were streaked with tears, but yet that devilment that drove him so crazy, still danced in her wet eyes.

"You've been wanting this, haven't you?" Isaac toyed, his voice was softer now, but his words still laced with filth and flirting. Again, Eddi found herself fumbling for words, she didn't know the answer to that question. Had she been wanting this? She hadn't been not wanting this. And she certainly was enjoying wanting this right now.

"Issy..." Eddi gulped, trying to steady her voice, she watched Isaac's pupils pulse with the nickname, she could hear his clockwork heart grinding in his chest, "....please....I need you."

Without another word, Isaac stands Eddi upright, instead of shoving her like before, he carefully eases her back onto his desk. Eddi feels his powers loosen around her arms, and instead of taking it as an opportunity to fight Isaac more, she uses them to lift herself onto the surface.

Pausing, she considers wrapping her arms around Isaac's neck, but not wanting to risk loosing the control of them again, she keeps her palms flat at her sides, waiting and watching.

"Lay down, sweetheart." Isaac is commanding, but his tone is gentle, Eddi chews her lip, but ultimately she does as she's told...finally.

Laying back, she can't help the shudder that waves itself down her body, the wood cold on her back, but also she's aware that Isaac can now see that her underwear was soaked.

"You liked it when I fucked your face."

It was more of a statement than a question, and Eddi felt her tongue tie itself in a knot when she felt Isaac's finger trailing up and down her sopping clothed cunt. He pulled the fabric to the side, the cold air causing another ripple of shivers to rake through Eddi's body. She didn't hold in the moan that fumbled from her throat when Isaac pressed his thumb hard into her swollen button.

Isaac felt he'd teased Eddi enough, the poor girl was practically sobbing between her legs, so instead of drawing things out even longer, kneeling on the workshop floor, he didn't hold back as he slid his tongue deep into Eddi.

With no warning for the heavenly assault Isaac had started on her throbbing cunt, Eddi clamped her legs shut around Isaac's head, unable to stop herself from threading her fingers through his curls. Her back arching as he took her clit between his lips, pulling it into his mouth, making Eddi sing with moans.

Isaac glanced up through his lashes, his tongue swirling and plunging everywhere it could reach. He felt himself leaking all over the floor at the sight of Eddi enjoying all the pleasure he was giving her. His own manhood pulsed when Eddi's walls squeezed his tongue. Her cunt was going to be even tighter when he was finally going to have his way with her.

Stopping abruptly, Eddi sighing angrily, exasperated by Isaac's stop starting, she was desperately chasing her own release.

However, she wouldn't need to wait long, Isaac was pulling her hips to the edge of the workbench, his tip jabbed at her clit, making her legs quiver with the stimulation.

"Is this what you wanted? Me, like this, ruining you?" Isaac growled, he leaned between Eddi's legs, catching her chin between his thumb and forefinger, making her look at his brooding brown eyes.

Eddi felt herself shaking with a mixture of exhaustion, desperation and lust, she wanted to completely cave and give in to Isaac's prying, but the other part enjoyed the way he tried harder when she didn't.

Huffing a breath, she tilted her head to the side, "I'm enjoying when you put some real effort in, rather than your haphazard laziness."

Isaac's brow furrowed, as he tried to fully grasp what she meant, but then they furrowed in frustration when he finally grasped what she meant.

Grabbing the backs of her thighs, he pushed them into her chest, spreading her wide, "You don't cum till I tell you, understand?"

It was Eddi's turn to be confused, but she didn't have time to think of a quick witted response as Isaac pushed himself all the way into her dripping cunt. Her walls stretching further than they've stretched before, Isaac reaching deeper than any man she'd ever taken.

No bogus gorgon, or hotheaded werewolf had ever filled her this much, and she gasped and groaned, wiggling her hips to try and squirm away from the overwhelming pressure.

"Be a good girl," Isaac charmed, drawing himself nearly all the way out, and then slamming back in, tugging a scream from Eddi's throat, "and take it."

Eddi was gasping and writhing, unable to think of the right words...or any words for that matter, especially when Isaac began to pick up his pace. Pounding harder and harder, till the legs of the workbench rocked against the stone floor.

"Look at you." Isaac spoke through gritted teeth, trying to keep his rhythm, but he struggled with the beautiful, yet worrisome, sight sprawled out before him. Eddi's head lolled around the desk, her eyes fluttering with pleasure and exhaustion. He'd had her pining for so long, he could see she was growing fuzzier and slipping into somewhere far from this now, hot and sweaty tower.

Isaac pondered for a moment, he was chasing his own release but the more he looked at Eddi, the more worried he was growing, and it was overtaking his need for his own satisfaction.

"Eddi..." Isaac's voice sounded far away, like she wasn't connected to him in the most intimate way possible, "Sweetheart..."

Isaac's hips slowed down, nearly stopping completely as he cupped Eddi's face again, her eyes rolled.

"I need you to speak, Eddi." Isaac demanded, but got nothing but mumbled words, and incoherent response, which made Isaac's hips halt completely.

A whine broke from Eddi's throat as her walls squeezed Isaac tight, he had to use all the will power he had left to not plough her for the rest of the night. But he knew she wasn't herself anymore.

Slipping from her completely, he made himself descent, then grabbed his lab coat which hung from a nail, and laid it over her quivering naked body. He pulled a chair toward him with his powers, not moving from where he stood, his hand still cupping Eddi's face.

He sat on the chair, but not before he pulled Eddi towards him, resting her in his lap.

Eddi didn’t know when her shaking had started. Only that it hadn’t stopped.

The world felt too loud, the flickering lamps too sharp. She couldn’t tell if it was from what had just happened, or everything that had led them here; the letter, the threat of her father, the ache in her chest she couldn’t quiet, and then all the teasing and begging, which had left her so needy and vulnerable in front of Isaac Night.

Isaac hadn’t let her go. Somewhere between the ragged breaths and the breaking silence, he’d gathered her against him. Now she was half-curled in his lap, her cheek pressed against the steady rise and fall of his chest. His arms were wrapped around her, holding her together in a way that felt too gentle for the same hands that could bend metal, make the air move, and could do all of that to her, just moments ago.

The ticking of his heart filled the quiet; soft, rhythmic, uneven.

“You’re okay, I'm here, sweetheart,” he murmured, one hand sliding up to the back of her neck, his fingers tracing slow, grounding circles against her skin. His voice had lost its edge, all of its sharpness melted down to something low and careful. “Breathe, Eddi. Just breathe.”

She tried. Her chest hitched once, twice, before the air finally came. The scent of oil and paper and him filled her lungs, familiar and strange all at once.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, barely audible. “I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t,” he said softly, cutting her off before she could spiral. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

She tilted her head slightly, enough to look at him. The usual steel in his expression was gone; in its place was something raw and unguarded. Concern. Guilt, maybe. Humanity, definitely.

“I lost it,” she said, the words trembling out. “Gaulish, my father, Vittorie- I can’t fix any of it, and then this happened- like what are we even doing?-This has never happened to me before-I'm so sorry.”

Isaac’s thumb brushed her cheek, catching the tear she hadn’t realised had fallen. "Eddi...breathe, it's okay, stop saying sorry, you don’t have to fix everything.”

She gave a hollow laugh. “You don’t understand. That’s all I do. That's all I am.”

His eyes softened. “Then maybe you’ve spent too long carrying everyone else’s pieces.”

Eddi blinked, stunned by the weird sense this man was making.

Isaac looked away then, as though he’d said too much, his jaw tightening briefly before he forced it to relax. “You don’t have to be unbreakable all the time,” he said, quieter now. “Not with me.”

The words hit her harder than they should have. She exhaled shakily, and before she could think better of it, she let herself sink fully against him.

"It was good..." Eddi mumbled, so quiet Isaac nearly missed it, he brought his head down further, so he could hear her carry on, "It was really good...just...too much as well...too soon."

Isaac adjusted without hesitation; one arm firm around her shoulders, the other tracing idle lines over her thighs. She could feel the faint whir of his clockwork heart through his chest, still uneven but steadying.

"I'm sorry," Isaac's chest rumbled against Eddi's ear with each of his words, "I should have been more gentle. I shouldn't have been so rough."

"No," Eddi disagreed, a little too quickly, her head spinning when her head shot up to meet Isaac's now anxious and sorrowful eyes, "Like I said, I did like it, and I wanted it...I'm just all over the place tonight...I didn’t mean for tonight to…” she began, voice muffled against him.

"Don't,” he murmured. “This is on me, this isn't your fault.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The tower felt smaller, the air warmer. Eddi could feel the tension in him, the constant pull between wanting to fix and fearing to feel.

Finally, she whispered, “Why are you being so kind to me?”

Isaac’s lips curved faintly; not his smirk, not his deflection, but something softer. “Because I haven't figured out how to fix your world yet,” he said, “but I can keep you steady while it spins.”

Eddi’s throat closed around the words she wanted to say. Instead, she just nodded against his chest, letting herself listen to the slow tick of gears, the strange, fragile heartbeat beneath her ear.

And for the first time in a long time, she let herself rest.

The quiet between them had changed. It wasn’t heavy anymore; just fragile, like the space after a storm when the air still trembles with rain.

Eddi had stopped shaking. Her breathing was steady now, though her mind was still a mess of apologies and half-formed thoughts. Isaac hadn’t moved much, save for the absent circles he traced against her thigh; slow, grounding motions that seemed more to soothe her than himself.

She looked up at him then, studying the sharp lines of his face softened by the low glow of the lamps. His eyes met hers, steady and passive, but his touch never faltered.

“I didn’t mean it,” she said suddenly.

Isaac blinked, frowning slightly. “Mean what?”

“I didn’t mean it when I said I was regretting it.” Her voice was quiet, but sure now. She hesitated just long enough for his fingers to still against her skin.

“Regretting what?” he asked, the question barely a whisper, though she could hear the cautious edge behind it.

“This,” she breathed.

Before he could speak, she leaned in; a small, certain motion that erased the space between them.

The kiss wasn’t desperate this time. It was slow, deliberate, full of everything that words couldn’t hold. Isaac’s hand came up to her jaw, not to claim but to steady, as if he was afraid she might vanish if he wasn’t careful.

When they finally broke apart, Eddi’s forehead rested against his. Her breath hitched softly, and Isaac exhaled through a quiet laugh that trembled at the edges.

“Then don’t regret it,” he murmured.

“I wont't,” she whispered back.

And for once, neither of them tried to fill the silence that followed.

Isaac was patient. Too patient. It unnerved her.

He’d found her clothes where he'd thrown them moments ago, folding each piece with quiet precision, as she stood watching him, lab coat pulled tight around her slightly shivering frame. Before he helped her back into them. His hands were careful, movements dutiful. When he reached for the latch of her bra, Eddi swatted him weakly away.

“I can manage,” she muttered.

He arched a brow. “You say that after you fell apart in my hands.”

Eddi shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass, but it only earned the faintest curve of his mouth; not quite a smile, more like a flicker of amusement he was trying to smother.

“I don’t need you fussing,” she said. “You’re not my nurse.”

“No,” Isaac said quietly, fastening the last hook anyway, “but someone has to look after you. I feel like no one properly has.”

She hadn’t noticed until he said it. Her fingers trembled where they rested in her lap, the tremor small but constant. She pulled her hands into herself, folding her arms tight across her chest, once she'd pulled her t-shirt back over her head.

“You’re enjoying this,” she said, half bitter, half breathless.

“I’m enduring it,” he corrected, voice soft. "There's nothing enjoyable about watching you...like this."

The gentleness in him unnerved her more than his usual sharpness. Isaac being kind felt dangerous; a language she didn’t know how to speak.

When he offered his hand to help her up, she ignored it and stood on her own. She wobbled, but caught herself, sending a look to Isaac as he dramatically held his hands out like he needed to catch her.

“Come on,” he said, nodding toward the elevator. “You should go back to Caliban. You need rest.”

“I don’t want to go back,” she said, surprising them both.

Isaac paused mid-step toward the elevator. “No?”

“I don’t want to be alone. Not up in that attic, the boys will all be asleep by now, and I don't want to be all by myself.”

Something flickered in his eyes. “Then I’ll go with you.”

The suggestion landed between them like a spark. Eddi hesitated, biting the inside of her cheek before shaking her head. “No. They might be asleep, but with Lenny's hearing-and Austin's penchant for appearing in places he shouldn't- they'll catch us and I don’t want to explain—”

“Explain what?”

“That I’m apparently breaking every rule of reason by talking to you, let alone leading you into my room. Alone. At Night.”

Isaac’s mouth tightened. “Right. God forbid you ruin your spotless reputation.”

His tone was too flat to be cruel, but it still stung. She sighed, rubbing at her temples. “That’s not what I meant.”

Silence stretched, long enough that she had to fill it. “We could… keep working on the project. I'd rather do that, then lay staring at my ceiling.”

He gave her a look that was equal parts disbelief and fond exasperation. “You can barely stand.”

“I can sit.”

“Eddi.” His voice had dropped, deeper now, threaded with something firm and protective. It made her look up, made her notice the way his jaw flexed as if he was fighting himself.

She stared back, unblinking, stubborn as ever. Sighing he took a seat again, on the chair that usually sat under his desk.

They stayed that way for a heartbeat too long, her defiance meeting his restraint, until he sighed again and relented. “Fine. But if you’re going to sit, you sit here.”

He gestured to his lap.

Eddi blinked at him, incredulous. “You’re serious.”

“That’s not a no.”

“It’s a why are you like this?”

Isaac’s lips twitched. “Because you don’t listen otherwise, and I can keep you upright.”

Before she could roll her eyes and refuse, she felt a familiar tug; soft, invisible threads of telekinetic pressure nudging her forward. She didn’t fight it. Not really.

She let herself be guided, half annoyed, half amused, until she was settled on his lap, her back against his chest, her head tipped slightly to one side.

Isaac’s voice was a low murmur near her ear. “Was that so hard?”

“Don’t get used to it,” she said.

He hummed. “Too late.”

Eddi didn't give him the satisfaction of a reply, instead she sat rigid on his lap, looking over the nearly finalised blueprints.

The quiet stretched between them, the only sounds the faint hum of the tower’s old gears and the scratch of graphite as Isaac sketched on a scrap of paper balanced on the desk before them. Eddi sat straight back keeping distance from his chest, pretending to study the lines he drew; though her mind was far away, flitting between the memory of her father’s letter and the feeling of Isaac’s heartbeat, steady, mechanical, comforting, just inches from her spine.

Isaac’s hand moved lazily over the page, drawing circuits and valve schematics that shimmered faintly with enchantment. He spoke as he worked: not demanding, not lecturing, just talking.

“You know,” he said quietly, “you were right about the valve issue. The bypass chamber’s inefficient. It should never have been fitted with copper.”

Eddi tilted her head back to look up at him. “Sorry, say that again?"

"The bypass chamber's ineffective-"

"No, not that bit."

"It should never-"

"Nope. Try again."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Just the first bit again." Eddi teased, a mischievous glint dancing in her tired eyes, Isaac nearly lost his train of thought entirely, but managed to keep himself composed, tilting his head to the side, insinuating for Eddi to continue, "The first part of what you just said- say it again."

"You were right-"

"Thank you, that is all." Eddi snapped her head back to the desk, humming a tuneless song as she wobbled her head side to side, like a toddler, who'd finally got their way.

She knew Isaac was smirking behind her back, her heart stuttering when his arm snaked around her waist, shuffling her up his lap a little bit.

“I always knew you were right,” he said, tone maddeningly calm. “I just didn’t want to make that ego of yours even more inflated."

Eddi snorted softly. “I'm just glad you can finally admit it. Was worried I'd have to prove it by performing open heart surgery when that bit of tin of yours clapped out."

Isaac smiled- actually smiled, the corners of his mouth twitching upward like it was an accident. "You don’t have to prove anything to me, Edrisse.”

The use of her full name was deliberate, teasing. Eddi rolled her eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it sounds like I should be performing in some burlesque show in Paris, in front of a load of sleazy frenchmen."

He made a thoughtful noise. “Now that's an image I'm gonna struggle to get out of my head."

She elbowed him lightly. “Well get it out of there quick, I do not want you thinking about me like that, when I'm sitting on your lap."

Eddi glanced up at Isaac, realising he wasn't sketching anymore, his pen was flat on the desk, with his hand over the top of it, and his eyes were trailing over her face, thoughtfully.

"And stop looking at me like that." Eddi commanded, but she didn't look away, hoping to challenge him with her own stares, "You're not prince charming you can't get away with those looks of longing."

“I’m not looking at you longingly,” he said smoothly, “I’m analysing you.”

“That’s worse.”

Isaac chuckled under his breath, a warm, low sound that sent a small shiver down her spine. He leaned closer, his voice dipping near her ear. “You tense your shoulders when you’re flustered. You tap your fingers when you’re thinking. And…” he paused, the smile audible in his tone, “you bite your lip when you’re trying not to smile.”

Eddi immediately bit her lip harder, out of pure defiance. “You’re ridiculous, Iss—”

She froze.

Isaac’s eyes stopped mid-inspection.

“Sorry,” she said quickly, voice an octave too high. “That— that just slipped out.”

He turned the pencil between his fingers, studying her profile. “Issy.”

Her eyes widened. “Don’t.”

He ignored her, testing the sound like he was calibrating a delicate piece of machinery. “Issy. Hm. I quite like that.”

Eddi groaned and buried her face in her hands. “You would.”

Isaac’s laugh was quiet, genuine this time. “Well, I can’t say anyone’s ever called me that before. It’s… novel.”

“It was a heat of the moment thing,” she muttered.

“I noticed.”

Eddi lifted her head just enough to glare at him over her shoulder. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”

He met her glare with a maddeningly composed look, that same infuriating calm that somehow made her chest tighten instead of burn. “Maybe,” he admitted, “but you said it, not me.”

She shook her head, but the corners of her mouth betrayed her, twitching upward despite her best effort. “You’re so irritating.”

“And yet,” Isaac murmured, tracing an absent circle on her thigh again, “you’re still sitting here.”

Eddi wanted to argue, she really did, but her eyelids were already heavy, the exhaustion of the night seeping back into her bones. The rhythmic tick of his heart filled the space between them, soft and constant.

For once, she didn’t fight the stillness.

Her head tipped back against his shoulder, and without meaning to, she let herself relax completely in his arms.

Isaac felt it, the way her breath evened out, the tension finally leaving her frame. He looked down at her, a small, private smile ghosting across his lips.

“Get some rest,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I’ll keep you safe.”

Eddi murmured something incoherent, half a protest, half a sigh, before drifting off.

Isaac stayed where he was, unmoving, his chin resting lightly against her hair.

And for the first time in a long while, the quiet didn’t feel empty.

>

Eddi woke to the faint hiss of the steam pipes and the soft rhythm of gears whirring somewhere beneath the floor.

For a few heartbeats, she couldn’t quite place where she was, until the warmth against her back shifted, and an arm tightened gently around her waist.

Her eyes flicked open.

She was still in Isaac’s lap, curled sideways against his chest, his head tipped back against the high back of his chair. He was half asleep, the pale light from the tower windows glinting against the edge of a brass cog visible beneath the collar of his jumper.

Eddi froze, every nerve in her body suddenly aware of how close they were. Isaac’s breathing was steady, slow, peaceful. She had never seen him look that way before.

Cautiously, she shifted.

The movement roused him; his grip instinctively tightened, pulling her closer before he mumbled something incoherent against her hair.

“Isaac,” she whispered, half alarmed, half amused.

He blinked himself awake, confusion flickering in his eyes as his hand released her. “Right. Sorry,” he murmured, straightening abruptly in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face. “You— uh— you fell asleep.”

“So did you,” she countered, standing and stretching her stiff limbs.

He glanced away, a faint flush climbing the back of his neck. “Unintentionally.”

“Of course.” Eddi brushed her curls from her face, deliberately keeping her tone light, almost mocking, because the alternative was letting the silence swallow her. “You always accidentally fall asleep with girls in your lap, I assume?”

Isaac gave her a look, that dry, cutting one he usually saved for when she’d bested him in debate. “You assume incorrectly, Edrisse.”

She scowled faintly. “Don’t call me that.”

“Then stop calling me Issy.”

Eddi blinked, caught off guard, her mouth opening and closing once before she crossed her arms defensively. "You said you quite liked it last night, what's changed?"

"Sleep deprivation can do a lot to a man," His mouth curved into a smirk, lazy but pointed. “The same can be said for you, I assume?.”

She hated how warm her face felt, but she didn't know which emotion was causing it: embarrassment, lust, frustration. “It was a mistake."

“And yet,” Isaac replied smoothly, “you stayed here, last night.”

The silence that followed was heavier than it should have been. Eddi shifted her weight, eyes flicking toward the high window, sunlight had begun to spill across the stone floor, painting the gears and copper pipes in soft gold.

“I should…” she started, then stopped, clearing her throat. “The boys will be waiting for me in Caliban. If I’m not there soon, they’ll come looking. Especially after how I left it last night.”

Isaac nodded, slow, deliberate, but he didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Right. I’ll give you a head start.”

Eddi hesitated, reading him. “That’s not your usual style. You love an audience.”

His smirk returned, but it was weaker this time, more of a habit than anything. “Yes, well. I’d rather avoid the questions from your band of bumbling idiots before breakfast.”

That earned the smallest ghost of a smile from her. “For once, we agree.”

Eddi adjusted her jumper, brushing nonexistent dust from her sleeves. The urge to say something — anything — pressed at her chest, but every possible word felt either too much or not enough.

Isaac turned back toward his desk, pretending to sort through his notes. “Eddi—”

She looked up sharply.

He hesitated, hand hovering over the scattered blueprints. “About last night…”

Her heart thudded once, hard. “What about it?”

He exhaled through his nose, faintly frustrated. “It doesn’t have to mean—”

“Anything?” she cut him off sharply. “It doesn't have to mean anything at all. We don't need to dissect it like it’s one of your machines.”

Isaac blinked at her, then, almost imperceptibly, his expression softened. “Fine,” he said quietly.

She nodded once, satisfied, or trying to look it. “Good.”

Eddi turned for the elevator, pausing at the threshold of the tower’s mechanical door. “Wait ten minutes before you leave,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “If the boys see us together, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Isaac inclined his head in a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of spoiling your reign, Miss Caliban.”

“Good,” she said again, though her voice came out softer than she meant it to.

And with that, Eddi stepped into the elevator and disappeared behind the turning gears, leaving Isaac alone in the tower, staring at the spot where she’d stood, wondering how something so small could make the entire room feel emptier.

The Caliban common room was already awake when Eddi slipped through the door. Morning light streamed through the tall windows, catching the faint shimmer of dust that always seemed to hang in the air from the boys’ latest round of chaos.

Four heads turned at once.

“There she is,” Raff said, pushing himself up from the couch, his flame-ringed fingers sparking in emphasis before he quickly extinguished them at Lenny’s pointed look. “Do you have any idea how worried we were?”

Eddi froze halfway into the room, her shoulder's slumped with a crick in her neck from her awkward sleeping position, wrapping her arms around her middle like a shield. “Worried?” she repeated carefully.

“Yeah,” Oliver added, his wings shifting irritably under his jacket. “You vanished with Vittorie last night after that letter and never came back. We thought—”

“We thought something happened,” Austin finished, appearing beside her so suddenly she startled. He grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, sorry.”

Eddi blinked, then forced a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You guys were worried about me? That’s… new.”

Lenny crossed his arms, his broad frame blocking half the light. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

He gave her a look. “Deflect.”

Eddi tried not to fidget under his scrutiny. “I wasn’t deflecting,” she said, which was exactly what someone deflecting would say.

Oliver huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “We waited for you all night, Ed. Lenny even refused to go to his actual bed, slept on the couch because he said it didn’t feel right.”

Lenny shot him a glare. “That was supposed to stay between us, birdbrain.”

The exchange gave Eddi just enough time to gather her wits. Her heart was still pounding from the elevator ride, from Isaac, but she couldn’t let them see it. Couldn’t let them ask.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally, soft but steady. “Vittorie was really upset after the letter. I ended up staying in her room for the night to make sure she was okay.”

Raff frowned. “You never stay in the girls’ dorms.”

“Yeah, well,” Eddi said quickly, “there’s a first time for everything.”

The lie slipped out smooth as silk, she’d learned long ago how to make her voice sound convincing, even when it trembled on the inside. She’d figure out the details later, which corridor, which room, what she’d supposedly borrowed from her sister. For now, the story would hold.

Austin tilted his head. “You sure everything’s okay, though? You look…”

“Hungry,” she interrupted, giving him a too-bright smile. “I look hungry.”

Oliver’s wings twitched. “You’re deflecting again.”

“Then take me to breakfast before I start deflecting knives,” Eddi shot back, and that earned her a few small laughs, tension breaking like glass underfoot.

Lenny ruffled her hair as he passed. “Fine, fine. But you’re sitting with us today, yeah? No hiding in corners or brooding in that tower.”

Eddi felt her breath catch in her throat, but she hid it with a forced smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” she muttered, following him toward the door.

Raff slung an arm around her shoulders as they walked. “See, I told you she’s fine,” he said to the others, loud enough for the whole common room to hear. “Our girl’s tougher than she looks.”

Eddi forced another smile, practiced, easy, but her stomach twisted. She could still feel the ghost of Isaac’s arms around her from the night before, still hear the echo of his voice in her head, low and steady.

You need to calm down. She told herself.

And as the boys joked and argued around her, dragging her toward the dining hall for breakfast, she wondered, just for a flicker of a moment, whether she’d left a piece of herself behind in that tower.