Page 21 of Tempest Rising

The room settled, though the tension hadn’t fully dissipated. Aurelia resumed her lecture, her voice now a distant hum in my ears. I could feel Mason’s heated glare on Selena from behind me, but I didn’t dare glance back. My heart was still racing, the weight of what had just happened sitting heavily in my chest.

I wasn’t sure how much more I could take of this constant scrutiny, the endless reminders that I didn’t belong. No matter how hard I tried, how much I fought to prove myself, there was always someone like Selena—or even Instructor Dante—ready to strip me down, reminding me of my humanity, my supposedinferiority.

By the time the class ended, I felt like I’d been drained, wrung out by the weight of their judgments. I gathered my things quickly, eager to escape the oppressive atmosphere of the classroom. But as I moved toward the door, Mason fell into step beside me, his presence a comforting shadow.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low, rough with lingering tension.

I nodded, though I wasn’t entirely sure it was true. “I’m fine,” I said quickly. “Just tired.”

Mason frowned, clearly not buying it, but he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he walked with me down the corridor, his broad shoulders cutting a path through the lingering students.

We moved in silence for a few moments, the noise of the other students fading into the background. I could feel his gaze flickering toward me, as if he was searching for the right words to say, something to ease the weight between us. But before he could speak, I beat him to it.

“You know I have my one-on-one session with Theron after this, right?”

Mason's expression faltered ever so slightly, his brows knitting together. “Yeah, I remember.” He hesitated, glancing down at the floor as we walked. “But... I was hoping maybe we could hang out after? Grab something to eat? I thought it might help take your mind off things.”

His offer was sweet, and under normal circumstances, I would’ve jumped at the chance to spend more time with him. But the thought of my upcoming session with Theron lingered in the back of my mind, a reminder of the intense training and magical focus I needed to maintain.

“I’d like that,” I said softly, offering him a small smile. “But you know, I’m not sure I’ll have any energy left after. I'll probably just grab a quick bite and relax for bit in my room.”

Mason’s jaw tightened, a fleeting look of frustration crossing his features before he quickly masked it. “I get it,” he said, his voice gruff. “But maybe I can walk you there? At least keep you company.” He tried to lighten the mood with a chuckle, but I could still sense the tension simmering just beneath the surface.

I nodded. “I’d like that.”

As we approached Theron's office, the echo of our footsteps in the long, dim corridor seemed to synchronize with the unsteady rhythm of my heartbeat. Mason walked beside me, his presence a steady anchor in the tumultuous sea of my thoughts. Theflickering torchlight cast warm shadows across his chiseled features, highlighting the concern etched in his eyes.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked softly, his hand hovering near the small of my back as if ready to catch me should I falter.

I offered him a small, weary smile. "Just a long day," I murmured. "But thanks for walking me."

He nodded, his gaze searching mine. "You know I'm here if you need anything, right?" His fingers brushed lightly against my arm, a tender gesture that sent a subtle warmth spreading through me.

"I know," I replied, and for a moment, the weight of everything seemed a little lighter. Mason had become my rock—the one constant in this world of magic, politics, and complex relationships. His unwavering support meant more to me than words could express.

We stopped in front of the heavy oak door of Theron's office. Intricate carvings of ancient runes adorned the frame, their meanings just beyond my grasp. A faint hum of energy emanated from the wood, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

Mason hesitated, his hand dropping to his side as an unreadable expression crossed his face. "Tess," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "There's something—"

Before he could finish, the door swung open with a quiet creak. Theron stood in the doorway, his tall frame silhouetted against the warm glow from within. His dark eyes flickered between Mason and me, a subtle tension tightening his jaw.

"Mason," Theron acknowledged coolly, his tone polite but distant. "I wasn't expecting you."

Mason straightened, his broad shoulders squaring as he met Theron's gaze. "Just seeing Tess to her lesson," he said evenly.

"How chivalrous," Theron replied, a hint of sarcasm lacing his words. His eyes shifted to me. "We have much to cover today, Tess. We shouldn't delay."

I glanced between the two men, the air thick with unspoken words. The contrasting energies between them pulled at me—Mason's steady warmth and Theron's enigmatic intensity.

"Right," I said, forcing a lightness into my voice that I didn't quite feel. "I'll see you later, Mason."

Mason's gaze lingered on me, a flicker of something—hesitation? longing?—passing over his features. "Don't forget about dinner tonight," he reminded me, his eyes holding mine for a beat longer than necessary.

"I won't," I assured him.

With a final nod, he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the corridor until they faded into silence. I watched him go, a pang of uncertainty twisting in my chest. Part of me wanted to call out, to ask him what he'd been about to say, but the moment had passed.

"Shall we?" Theron's voice broke my concentration, drawing my attention back to him. His expression was unreadable as he stepped aside and gestured for me to enter the room.

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