Page 517 of Axis of Fire

Stasia had said that mourning—even in silence—would only make it harder for Seris's soul to move on.

Holding myself back from grieving took more strength than I wanted to admit.

The ceremony had been torture.

Not only because Seris had died...

But because of Airis.

And because of my own foolish heart.

The upper-year students had witnessed every one of my memories during the Scorpio Trial. Since then, they hadn't stopped whispering behind my back, throwing me mocking glances—or worse, pitying ones.

The moment I finally forced myself to step past my fear and admit my feelings...

I'd become the perfect target.

Another weary breath escaped me as the full weight of the day settled over my shoulders.

It had drained me completely—body and soul.

I couldn't imagine how I was supposed to fall asleep after everything that had happened.

As the main entrance to the dormitory came into view, I noticed someone waiting beside it.

A lone figure leaned against the iron railing of the steps, watching me approach.

I bit the inside of my cheek hard, silently cursing my traitorous subconscious for refusing to stop noticing just how infuriatingly handsome he was.

Airis tilted his head slightly, his arms folded across his chest, while his eyes seemed to roam over every inch of me with almost unsettling intensity.

If I'd had the power, I would've wished myself out of existence right there in front of him.

Unfortunately, I was only a fire mage with an abnormal affinity for death magic.

Disappearing wasn't one of my abilities.

"How long are you planning to avoid me?" he asked, a hint of accusation coloring his voice.

"You should get used to it," I replied evenly. "Because this is all you'll ever get from me now."

Keeping my pace steady, I headed for the staircase, quietly proud of how well I was holding myself together.

"I'm your mentor."

"I don't care."

I was about to step onto the first stair when his broad frame moved in front of me, blocking my path.

Our eyes met.

His—cold, unwavering.

Mine—wanting him to feel at least half the pain he'd left me with.

"I protected your memories," he said. "And the people you care about."

Maybe I should've been grateful.