-Alexia-
The courtyard was quieter than it had any right to be. A school full of restless witches and shifters, a school under threat, should have buzzed with nervous chatter or carried the echo of hurried footsteps. Instead, the silence felt staged, like the entire campus was holding its breath with me.
Zeus pressed against my leg, his weight a steadying anchor. His ears twitched at every small creak of stone and rustle of wind, his amber eyes sweeping the shadows like he could sniff out betrayal. I reached down, threading my fingers through his coarse fur. He leaned into the touch with a soft rumble, not quite a growl, not quite a purr—just the sound of loyalty, plain and grounding.
The nexus pulsed faintly behind me, humming in the base of my skull like a second heartbeat. It should have been reassuring. I'd poured myself into that ward knot alongside Soren and Finn, every strand of chaos magic braided carefully with shadow and dragonfire. It held steady now, thrumming with layered strength. But instead of easing the coil in my stomach, it only reminded me what was at stake if we failed.
I tipped my head back, staring up at the strip of sky caught between the courtyard walls. The stars were faint smudges now, paling as dawn threatened to bloom. A liminal hour. A waiting hour.
The crunch of gravel under boots broke the stillness, and Zeus lifted his head sharply before softening with recognition. My lips curved before I even turned—I knew that gait.
"Couldn't sleep either?" Jasper's voice was low, careful not to disturb the fragile hush.
I glanced over my shoulder. He stood just beyond the archway, broad shoulders shadowed by the stone. The early light caught the edge of his profile, the steady line of his jaw, the silver flecks threaded through his dark hair. He looked tired, but then, so did I.
"Sleep?" I asked, the word dry as kindling. "That's a luxury I don't remember having."
His mouth tilted at one corner, not quite a smile. "Fair point."
Zeus padded toward him first, tail sweeping once in cautious approval. Jasper crouched automatically, scratching behind his ears with a familiarity that warmed something in me. My familiar rarely gave his trust easily, but with Jasper… he seemed to make an exception.
"You've got him spoiled," I murmured, watching the way Zeus leaned into his touch.
Jasper's eyes flicked up to mine. "Or maybe he just knows when you need someone else to carry the weight for a minute."
Something in my chest tightened. I looked away, pretending to adjust the strap of my cloak. "Weight's mine to carry. Always has been."
He rose, stepping closer, closing the fragile space between us until I could feel the heat radiating from him. Not suffocating, not demanding—just steady, like a hearth I hadn't realized I'd been cold without.
We stood like that for a beat, the silence between us full but not empty.
I looked away, digging my fingers into the stone. "If this fails—if the Council sees through it, or worse, if it backfires—I won't just ruin myself. I'll drag all of you down with me."
For a long moment, Jasper didn't speak. His quiet presence pressed around me, steadier than the wards. When he finally spoke again, his voice had changed—lower, heavier.
"You think you're the only one who can break this bond?" His jaw tightened. "Alexia, I already did."
I turned to him, startled. His light wasn't steady anymore; faint tremors ran through it, frayed edges bleeding into the air.
"I stood with the Council when they bound you," he said, the words pulled from him like confession. "I let them convince me caging you was safer than trusting you. I let fear decide. Do you know how much I've hated myself for that?"
The memory cut sharp through me: cold chains of spell-light, the suffocating weight of power collapsing inward, Jasper's gaze across the circle—so calm, so unreadable—while my body betrayed me. I had buried that look, convinced myself it didn't matter anymore. But hearing the guilt in his voice now tore the wound open fresh.
"Jasper…" My throat tightened.
"I swore after that day," he continued, his hand fisting briefly in Zeus's fur, "that I would never let fear silence me again. Even if the Council tears down these wards, even if they strip me of everything I am—we don't break apart this time. Not because of me."
The words were too much. Too honest. I felt something inside me tremble, as though his light had pressed against my chaos and found a fracture line. My hand moved before I could think, brushing against his where it rested on the bench. He turned his palm to catch mine, fingers threading tight.
His light seeped into me, cool and steady, shoring up edges I hadn't realized were fraying.
"I'm terrified I'll fail you," I whispered. "Not the wards, not the trap—you. If I lose control again, it won't just be me who shatters. It'll be all of us."
Jasper's hand squeezed mine firmly. "Then let us hold it with you. Stop trying to carry everything alone." His eyes met mine, unwavering. "I don't want perfection, Alexia. I want you. Flawed. Terrifying. Brilliant. You."
The words caught like a spark in my chest. Not a promise, not yet forgiveness, but a thread of something that could become one.
Zeus pressed against my knee again, his weight urging me forward, grounding me even as my thoughts scattered. The nexus pulsed behind us, steady and patient, as if echoing Jasper's vow.
For a moment, I let myself lean into him—just barely, my shoulder brushing his chest. He didn't move, didn't press, just steadied me with the quiet kind of strength I hadn't known I needed until it was there.
Morning's first light crept over the walls, spilling pale gold across the stones. I pulled back, though the air felt colder without him. My hand found Zeus's scruff, grounding myself in familiar strength. "Morning's coming," I said softly.
Jasper's gaze lingered, something unspoken burning there, but he only nodded. "Then we'll face it together."
And in the quiet before the sun cleared the horizon, I almost believed him.