-Alexia-
They're whispering about me.
I hear it in the halls, the way conversations stutter when I walk by, how eyes flick to the vines under my feet before darting away. I see it in the way younger students step out of my path, clutching their books a little tighter.
I feel it in the way the earth hums under me, restless, mirroring the tightness in my chest.
It was one slip. One moment.
But it's enough to remind them—and me—what I am.
A chaos witch.
A threat.
I try to lose myself in chores, scrubbing cauldrons in Alchemy until my hands are raw, helping Lyra and Kaia weed the herb beds until dirt is caked under my nails, folding laundry in the common room until my arms ache. But everywhere I go, I can feel eyes on me.
Whispers.
She lost control again.
The vines nearly hit a student.
She shouldn't be here.
The vines twitch under the soil, sensing my fear, my shame, eager to protect me, to strike for me if I let them.
I don't let them.
I can't.
I find Finn in the gardens that evening, helping Kaia and Lyra carry compost to the beds, sleeves rolled up, sweat on his brow. He looks up when he sees me, his whole face softening, the bond between us flaring warm.
"Hey, sunshine," he calls, setting the bucket down, brushing dirt off his hands.
I force a small smile, but it trembles at the edges. "Hey."
Kaia shoots me a look, her eyes darting to Finn, then back to me, before she clears her throat. "Lyra, let's grab the rest from the shed."
Lyra hesitates, glancing between us before moving toward the shed. Kaia pauses beside me, resting a hand on my shoulder.
"You good?" she asks softly.
"I don't know," I whisper, voice cracking.
Kaia squeezes my shoulder, then looks at Finn and nods before heading off after Lyra.
Finn steps closer, brushing a loose curl behind my ear, his thumb lingering on my cheek, grounding me. The warmth in the bond soothes the restless ache under my skin, for a moment.
"Talk to me," he says gently.
I swallow, staring down at my hands, dirt still crusted under my nails. "Everyone's looking at me like I'm a monster."
"You're not," he says immediately, but his voice cracks, just a little.
I look up, searching his eyes, desperate. "Aren't I?"
His jaw tightens, the muscle ticking, but he shakes his head. "No. You're trying, Lex. You're learning."
Tears prick at my eyes, but I blink them back, letting out a shaky breath as I lean into his hand, letting myself take the comfort he's offering, even if it feels too fragile to hold.
"It doesn't feel like enough," I whisper.
"It is," he insists, pressing a kiss to my forehead, lingering there, his breath warm against my skin. For a moment, the bond between us is warm, alive, safe.
But there's something under it—something tight, strained, like a note held too long.
"Finn…" I whisper. "Are we okay?"
He hesitates, just for a heartbeat, before nodding. "Yeah, Lex. We're okay."
But his arms tighten around me like he's trying to hold something together that's already starting to break.
We walk back to the dorms together, Zeus padding at my side, his head occasionally bumping against my hand. I let my fingers tangle in his fur, grounding myself with the warmth of him.
Students glance at us as we pass. Some look away quickly. Others just watch. I can feel the fear in the way they stand back, the way conversations hush.
Finn squeezes my hand, but it doesn't stop the way my heart twists.
When we reach the dorm, Finn presses a soft kiss to my cheek, promising he'll see me tomorrow. I force another small smile, but it feels like glass cracking in my chest.
Later, in the dorm, Kaia tries to distract me, braiding my hair while we sit cross-legged on the floor, Zeus sprawled across both our laps, snoring softly.
"You need to stop letting them get in your head," she mutters, tugging a little too hard on a tangle.
"I can't help it," I whisper, picking at the frayed edge of my sleeve. "I feel it. The way they look at me now. Even the guys… something's off."
Kaia's hands are still in my hair, and she lets out a long breath. "They're idiots. All of them."
A small, weak laugh slips out before fading. "I don't want to lose them."
"You won't," she says firmly, resuming the braid with softer fingers. "You're stronger than you think."
But the vines under the floor shift, restless, unconvinced.
That night, I lay awake, staring at the cracks in the ceiling, the moonlight spilling across the floor in pale ribbons.
The bonds are quiet, but not in the way that brings comfort. It feels like the hush before a storm, like everyone is holding their breath, waiting for something to break.
I press a hand to my chest, over the marks that tie me to them, the warmth there faint, flickering, like a candle guttering in the wind.
"I'm trying," I whisper to the dark.
Zeus lifts his head from the foot of the bed, his eyes reflecting the moonlight as he whines softly, crawling up the mattress to curl against my side. I bury my hand in his fur, pressing my face against his neck, breathing in the warm, earthy scent of him.
"You're okay," I whisper to him, to myself, to the marks on my skin. "You're okay."
But as the wind howls outside the windows, rattling the glass in its frame, I feel something slipping through my fingers.
Something I can't name.
Something I can't stop.