“I know the stories,” I say carefully. “The old ones. The ones most assume are myth.”
“Tell us,” Gray says, voice carrying that note of command he probably doesn’t realize he’s using.
Something in me responds to the authority in his tone before I can stop it. Interesting.
I meet Bree’s eyes instead of his. Because this isn’t about what they need to know. It’s about what she’s ready to hear.
“The Ashen Oath,” I say simply.
Just the name is enough to still the air.
“What does that mean?” Gray demands.
I let silence stretch, then glance at Bree. Her green eyes are wide, still shocked, but there’s recognition there now. Fear, maybe. Or understanding.
“It means the stories weren’t just stories,” I say quietly.
Jace bristles. “And?”
My smile is small, sharp. “And that’s all you get tonight.”
I let the silence settle, then step into it. Not close enough to touch her. Just close enough they all feel the weight of what I’m not saying.
From the corner, I catch Zira watching me instead of Bree. Her dark eyes are calculating, filing away my reaction for later examination. She notices everything.
“The rest,” I say, letting my gaze settle on Bree, “depends on her.”
And I’ll be there when she decides.
Chapter 6
Theo
Two days of questions that no one will answer.
Two days of watching Bree avoid eye contact whenever I’m in the room, like she’s afraid I’ll see too much again. Like what happened in that mirror realm scared her enough that keeping distance feels safer than letting me close.
I tried to apologize yesterday. Cornered her in the hallway outside her room, words tumbling out about how sorry I was for what happened at the end—for pushing when she needed space, for letting my vision overwhelm the moment when she was already drowning. She just looked at me with those green eyes gone carefully blank and said,“It’s fine, Theo. Really.”
But it’s not fine. The way she barely lets our eyes meet now, the careful distance she maintains even when we’re in the same room—none of it is fine. And I can’t shake the feeling that I broke something fragile between us when I let my Seer instincts override my common sense.
Two days of Stellan’s elegant dismissals and Thane’s cold refusals every time I try to understand what the Ashen Oath actually means.
And two days of visions that make no sense.
Not about Bree this time. About Seth.
I see him standing beside two figures—Phil, and with him, a man whose face shifts every time I try to focus on it, something infinitelymore predatory lurking beneath the surface. They’re talking in low voices, planning something. But then the vision fractures, and I see Seth again—standing between Bree and danger, protective, chosen,belonging. Two futures flickering like competing flames.
The contradiction gnaws at me. Seth working with someone who wants to hurt her, but also Seth saving her. Seth betraying everything we’ve built, but also Seth earning his place among us.
Both futures feel equally real. Equally possible.
It makes me want to scream.
“Not everything is for you to know, Seer,”Stellan said yesterday, voice smooth as silk and twice as cutting. When I pressed, his smile went sharp.“Some knowledge is earned, not given.”
Thane was more direct.“Ask again, and you’ll regret it.”
