-Jasper-
The courtyard felt emptier the moment Alexia, Finn, Soren, and even Zeus disappeared into the headmistress's office. The door shut behind them with a heavy thud that seemed to echo across the stones. For a few seconds, I just stood there, staring at the carved wood, listening to the faint hum of wards pulsing in the air.
Without Alexia at the center of things, the place seemed hollow—like a battlefield after the fight had ended, smoke still clinging to the ground. The air was cool against my skin, but sweat clung to the back of my neck all the same. I shoved my hands into my pockets, trying to look casual, though my chest ached with something far from calm.
I should've gone after Asher. He'd already turned away, his strides clipped and deliberate, boots striking stone with a rhythm that sounded almost angry. Shadows curled around him, clinging like they knew he wanted to disappear. He didn't glance back at me. He didn't need to. His dismissal was loud enough in the silence he left behind.
But my eyes drifted to Kira instead.
She stood rigid, arms crossed tightly across her chest, gaze fixed on the headmistress's tower as though sheer willpower might let her see through stone. She looked steady, unshaken—but I caught the tightness in her jaw, the way her fingers pressed into her arms until her knuckles whitened. She was scared too, though she'd never admit it.
I cleared my throat before I could talk myself out of it. "Kira," I started, softer than I meant. "Can we talk?"
Her head snapped toward me, her eyes narrowing. They were sharp enough to make my stomach twist. Not fury—not yet—but caution. Distrust.
I hated that look more than I hated the silence Asher left me with.
I forced myself to keep speaking, though every instinct screamed at me to walk away, to fade into the background like I always did when cornered. My palms were damp inside my pockets, and I dug my nails into them to keep from shaking.
"I know I don't deserve it," I rushed, the words spilling out faster than I intended. "But I need you to hear me."
Her silence pressed against me, heavier than a shout.
"I was scared," I said finally. My voice cracked on the word. "That's the truth. I wasn't strong enough, Kira. Not when it mattered. I thought—if I stayed back, if I kept my head down—it would pass me by. But it didn't. It never does."
Her arms stayed crossed. She didn't move. She didn't soften.
The back of my throat burned. "I've thought about it every night since. How I should've stepped in. How I should've stood beside her. I froze. I told myself it was strategy, or waiting for the right moment, but that was a lie. I was just scared."
Kira's eyes flickered, but not in sympathy. "Do you think that makes it better?" Her voice was low, almost steady—but underneath, it was sharp enough to cut. "That you're admitting it now? Fear isn't an excuse, Jasper. We were all afraid. Every single one of us. The difference is, some of us acted anyway."
Her words landed like a blow. I swallowed hard, but the shame didn't move from my chest.
"I know," I whispered. "You're right."
I risked a step closer, though my legs felt heavy as lead. "I can't undo it. I can't change what I did—or didn't do. But I can promise you this: I'm not going to stand back again. Not if Alexia needs me. Not if you need me."Her laugh was soft, humorless. "A promise is easy when the danger's not in front of you."
I flinched. Because she was right again.
"I don't expect you to believe me," I said, my voice low. "But I'm still going to prove it. However I can."
For a moment, her expression shifted—just a flicker, like a shadow moving across her face. Doubt, maybe. Or something close to pity. But it was gone before I could be sure.
Her arms dropped slowly to her sides, though she didn't relax. "You're not the only one who was scared, Jasper. The difference is, Alexia bled for this place while you hid. Fear doesn't vanish just because you admit it. You'll have to carry it. Every time."
Her words sank deep, lodging like shards of glass under my skin. I nodded, because what else could I do?
"I will," I said, though my voice barely carried.
Silence stretched between us again, heavy but not suffocating this time. Kira turned back toward the tower, her shoulders tense, her jaw clenched. I followed her gaze, though the door remained stubbornly shut, the weight of Shade's office pressing down like a storm cloud we couldn't see.
The wind shifted, cool air brushing against my face, carrying the faint scent of singed stone from Gideon's last spell. It was a reminder carved into the courtyard itself: what fear and hesitation cost.
I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling the tremor in my hands, and tried to breathe past the ache in my chest. I didn't know if Kira would ever forgive me. I didn't know if Alexia could. But I knew one thing—running from my fear had already ruined enough.
The next time it rose in my throat, I'd face it. Even if it killed me.