Brix leans back in the booth, one arm slung casually over the seat. “Crazy, huh? All those years in Furycliff and I don’t think we ever said two words to each other.”
I huff a laugh. “Yeah. You were busy with the golden boys—the noise, the muscle, the arena heroes.”
He grins, unashamed. “What can I say? I like to put on a good show.”
“Wrath kids like cracking skulls for fun,” I say with a smile. “And that arena? Gods, I loved it. Fights almost every day.”
“Almost?” He raises a brow. “Try every day. Half the time the professors just let it happen. Character building, they’d call it.”
“Yeah, well, easy for them to say when they weren’t the ones getting their faces smashed against stone walls. Some of us didn’t exactly volunteer.”
His eyes fill with remorse, and I sigh and roll my eyes at him. I hate pity.
“It was impressive, you know, how you held your own even without powers, but you always kept your head down. I remember that you liked to hang out with that Sadie girl a lot.”
My throat tightens a little at the thought of Sadie. I wonder where she is now?
“Yeah, she was my best friend. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a good fight. I guess they stopped being fun for me when everyone else came into their powers. It was easier to fly under the radar. But you were amazing. Wrath through and through.”
He shrugs, but there’s an edge under the casualness.
“It was a role. But I never thought less of you. We just… were in different worlds, I guess.”
I glance down at the table, tracing the rim of my glass with my finger. “Different worlds in the same place. Furycliff feels so small now compared to this academy.”
“Yeah.” He exhales. “Here at least you can relax knowing you won’t go hungry. Back home, it felt like all stone walls and sharp edges. Like the whole place was waiting to chew you up if you slipped.”
I think back to my old world. “It’s a dangerous place. There’s some beauty in it though, if you know where to find it. Have you ever seen the view from the northern cliffs? I’d make the hike if not, it’s worth it.”
He pauses his study of the menu, studying me in a way that makes my chest heat. “Guess that I never noticed all the beauty Wrath offers.”
“Too busy with your adoring fans,” I tease, though the warmth in my chest doesn’t fade.
He smirks, but it softens into something else—something almost wistful. A curl falls across his eye, and he doesn’t bother brushing it away. “Yeah. Maybe.”
The conversation drifts after that—school, classes, stupid professors from back home. Brix asks a lot of questions, drawing stories out of me I didn’t even realize I remembered. And I realize how easy it is with him. How natural. Sitting across from him in this warm booth, trading secrets and laughter, I can almost picture what it would be like if things were different. If I didn’t have the weight of my bonds. If danger didn’t curl around both of us like a shadow. I almost could forget Atticus was in the room, if the tug in my chest could let me.
It would be so, so easy to let myself want this.
But I can’t. I won’t. Brix is one of my best friends. One of my few real friends. If I blur that line, I risk losing him completely.
And losing him might destroy me faster than any bond ever could.
So I smile, I joke, I let my knee bump his under the table.
I nearly spill my drink when movement outside the window catches my eye—Ryker, hands in his pockets, strolling past with a pack of upper-class Wraths behind him. He glances in, throws me that quick, shameless wink… and his gaze flicks to Brix for half a second. Then he keeps walking like nothing happened.
The others keep talking, but my pulse doesn’t get the memo.
We’ve had our… moments. Quiet corners. Stolen smiles. His hand brushing mine as he walked by me. All behind closed doors, nothing anyone could twist into gossip.
He’s busy—future Councilor busy, heir-to-a-faction busy. I know that. I do.
But the second he’s gone, the space beside me feels too empty, and I hate how much I miss the warmth he leaves behind.
“You want this last breadstick?” Brix asks, pulling me out of my head. I smile and grab it from the plate as we finish up our meal.
***
