SOMETHING IS WRONG. I CAN feel it in my chest, in each beat of my heart. And I saw it on Severin’s face when he looked up at me. For the first time since I met him, I saw what looked like fear in his eyes.
And it scared me.
At a distance, I follow him through the academy’s corridors. Outside, the light has started to change, the sun inching toward the horizon, sending golden beams slanting through the castle’s stained glass windows.
It’s beautiful, that golden hour right before dusk, yet I find I can’t stop to appreciate it.
Becausesomething is wrong.
Internally, I run through ideas about what it may be.
Has someone discovered us and our forbidden relationship? If that were the case, though, Severin wouldn’t have been in the restricted section of the library; rather, he would’ve been in Headmistress Moonhart’s office. So that must not be it.
Could it have something to do with the fellowship? But Professor Azula wasn’t anywhere around, and apart from helping me the way he has, Severin has no academic connection to my fellowship, so he’d likely not know even if something had gone wrong.
What, then? What could possibly have caused that look on his face? And why is the thread in my chest aching like this, like it’s pulling too tight too fast?
Severin continues through the halls, and I remain just far enough back so as not to make it clear that I’m following him. Students move around us, and though a couple try to stop me to chat, I excuse myself from the conversations quickly. I don’t have time to waste; I need to know what has Severin so clearly distressed.
Though I lost sight of him after the last person tried to pull me aside to talk, I can still feel the thread connecting us, and it leads me to the hallway where Severin’s office is. When I get there, the door is cracked, and I can tell before stepping through that he’s on the other side.
I rap my knuckles gently against the wood, then push the door open and step inside.
Severin is staring out the window, arms stiff at his sides, tension obvious in the way he’s holding his shoulders.
“Sever—”
“Close the door,” he says, an edge to his voice that isn’t usually there.
I oblige, closing the door behind me, then step farther into the room.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. “What’s happened?”
Without glancing over his shoulder at me, he says, “How could you tell something was wrong?”
Fingers trembling, I reach up to touch my sternum. “I felt it. I was out in the Whim with Poppy, and I felt that something was bothering you.” I take a breath and let it out slowly. “And I can tell I’m right. So, what is it?”
For a long moment, Severin says nothing. He just stares out the window, posture stiff, breathing slow and even. I give him the time he needs, waiting on the opposite side of his desk—the desk where he once laid me down, where I wrapped my legs around him as he pressed his hips into mine and my magic swirled beneath my skin.
Severin’s shoulders rise and fall with a sigh, and then he turns and faces me. And whatever the emotion is that I see on his face, I don’t like it.
“The connection between us, that thread...” His gaze flicks down to my chest, as if he can see a golden string connecting us. “I found out what it is.”
I take one step closer, pressing my fingertips to the top of his desk. “Okay. That’s great. What is it, then?”
“It’s...” He flexes his jaw, a shadow of stubble dark against his pale skin. “It’s from your magic. Your elemental essence is so strong that it’s creating a loop between us.”
He gestures, twirling his finger in a circle, but I still don’t quite understand.
“A loop?”
“A circuit. I found an old text on blood magic that refers to the connection as a conduit-siphon circuit.”
“Okay.” I move slowly, pulling out the chair in front of Severin’s desk and sinking into it. “Is this circuit a bad thing?”
He draws another breath, not looking at me. Instead, his gaze is trained on something over my head, a furrow in his brow.
“The circuit can cause your magic to start seeking me out. To orient toward me.”
