Page 4 of Group Studies

“Ah, no,” I managed to squeak out. I hurt myself by losing control, not that I’d admit it to Ashe.

Saffron had his all-important relationship with Mercedes. The woman who made him appear perfect for his Aptitudes and who he was possibly trying to have a baby with. My only evidence was overheard conversations and a weird vision from Saffron to back the theory up. In addition to her, Professor Garnet loved him with a passion I struggled to understand. He didn’t need my magic pumping him full of need not his own.

What’s worse, I wouldn’t take it back. The small amount of magic I transferred into him took the edge off the overflow still building inside me.

Ashe studied my face. What was he seeing? Conflict? Anger? Insecurity? Evil? Why did this stranger go out of his way to help me?

For the hundredth time, I wanted to ask him, and for the hundredth time, I stayed quiet.

My friendship with Ashe was all I had. I didn’t want to risk destroying it by questioning it.

He released my face, either satisfied, or accepting I wouldn’t tell him more.

“You don’t need to walk me everywhere,” I mumbled.

His gaze softened and he leaned forward.

Butterflies beat their wings in my stomach.

“I pulled you, covered in fucking blood and bruises, out of a suitcase.” He picked up my hand and tugged me forward.

My heart raced, remembering the fear, but also how I called out for help. It was why I still stood here today.

We started walking at a more sedate pace and he reluctantly released my hand.

“My first day here, some kid covered your skirt in acid burning half of it away,” he said, his voice hard. “And the fucker Alrick ‘accidentally’ ran into you and left a tracking pin embedded in your shoulder.” Ashe clenched his fist. “Fuck you don’t need me. Besides, I’ve got no one else.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Maybe if you got away from me, you could make some other friends.”

Ashe slightly inclined his head. “Maybe.” He scratched his beard. “But I don’t fucking have it in me right now.”

I nodded. The confusing pressure of Aptitudes were almost impossible to navigate. At least I felt that way. Who my friends were and how I presented myself to the world was essential to the administration, giving me the title of ‘good person,’ something all of us needed to do to earn our freedom from this prison. But no one knew what the ‘correct’ choices were. It polarized the student body, forcing us into Coteries and Harems each creating its own definition of good.

We slowed outside the library. I pressed against the wall, peaking through the hinge of the massive open double door. Alice’s willowy form swayed in front of her computer. Guilt filled my stomach.

Like all of the staff at the Institute, Alice was as much a prisoner here as the students. She couldn’t go out and replace her husband's hoodie, and it was my fault.

My advisor tried to kidnap me and destroyed the hoodie in the process. He revealed most of the faculty and staff here were prisoners serving out their prison sentences. Professor Garnet was thankfully here by choice, but as far as I could tell he was in the minority.

The MA controlled the portal in and out of the shield-covered gothic castle and the surrounding buildings, making up the Institute. Since I drew their attention, they decided to lock it down, supplies only, while they reassessed the entire system.

I waited patiently until a group of students came up to check out books. Once distracted, I shuffled around the door and slipped past Alice. Behind me, Ashe shook his head, but he followed nonetheless.

It didn’t take me long to find the book I needed, and with it in hand, I marched through the maze of shelves to my favorite beaten-up love seat tucked into a corner.

Ashe had pulled a desk and chair to sit next to me the first time we studied together. At first, someone moved the set back every night. After a week of Ashe repositioning it, they stopped and let it stay. One my stubborn protector, zero library.

A little bouquet of grass and cattails stood out against the blue of my love seat. Beryl. Sadness welled in my heart, though I smiled and picked it up, pushing it behind my ear.

Ashe made a disgruntled noise as he sat, eyeing the bouquet.

I peered at him. A deep scar marred one of his eyebrows, giving his expressions an inquisitive edge. The wavy brown hair falling across his shoulders made me distinctly aware of my missing locks. With his height and muscled build, he honestly looked like a sexy version of the evil wizard who messed up people’s potions in my favorite alchemy board game.

I didn’t think he was my type, but apparently, I was wrong. Or maybe my magic twisted me in knots. I squinted at Ashe, trying to guess what was on his mind. The grass tickled the side of my face.

Ashe let out a breath and shook his head. “Read your fucking book.”

I wrinkled my nose. “You know swearing’s a sign of less intelligence.”

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