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T he monotonous clacking of my fingers against laptop keys provides a steady rhythm, punctuating each line of code. Brows furrowed in concentration, I barely register the heavy footfalls echoing in from the hall before the creak of the suite’s main entrance heralds Arius’ arrival.

A fleeting sidelong glance confirms his broad-shouldered silhouette sauntering in, shoulders squared beneath the snug drape of his shirt. The blatant outline of muscle rippling under that second skin snares my gaze briefly before I wrench it away with a scowl.

Disdainful thoughts of the Academy’s latest repugnant scheme threaten to derail my focus. This ill-conceived notion of doling out hapless coeds like fucktoys to high-scoring Ascendants reeks of desperation. Another abhorrent means of exploiting our depraved penchants.

The clink of bottles drags me from those musings as Arius grabs a beer from the kitchen, condensation beading the amber glass. I resist sneering at the display of indulgence so early. Clearly aiming to dull reality, despite knowing it’ll resurface once sobriety hits him.

“This charade with West is utter bollocks and you know it.” My voice slices through the strained silence with disdain as fingers keep flying across keys. “Thought last year’s fiasco with that trailer slut and the Mayweather kid would convince our overlords to scrap this sordid scheme. Not double down by assigning us that scruffy bitch as some demented ‘reward’ for performance.”

Arius sighs, a hint of resignation bleeding through his carefully-constructed veneer. Twisting the cap off, he raises the cool glass to his lips and takes a long swallow that ripples his throat. My stare snags there, tracing the motion before averting just as he lowers the bottle.

“You conjure the delusion our opinions factor into Hansley’s machinations? We both know it isn’t up for debate.” His tone remains measured, tinged with faint exasperation. Already resigned to engaging in another futile argument. “The Purefires decreed West gets her marks like every other prospective bloodline. Her lack of status matters little in their grand scheme.”

A muscle twitches along my jaw as scarred knuckles flex. It takes restraint not to sweep the laptop crashing down in explosive frustration. Instead, I drag in a ragged breath to restore composure.

“For fuck’s sake, Arius, when will you stop swallowing the shite those dementia-addled Patriarchs and Elders shovel?” The words drip open disdain, daring him to react beyond that infuriating impassiveness. “Ever pause to ponder why the Academy’s suddenly welcoming random nobodies without connections? Offering full rides to untrained rats off the streets?”

Arius’ expression doesn’t flicker as he slouches on the sofa. Broad shoulders resettle against the cushions, one boot kicking up to rest on the coffee table, scuffing it. The picture of aristocratic disregard for anything disrupting his smug complacency.

Swallowing another draught, Arius arches a brow with an eloquent shrug. “Conspiracy theories aside, the reason’s obvious. The Academy is struggling, .” His tone suggests he finds the debate tiresome. “With more Ascendants refusing to carry on towards becoming Redcoats, their only recourse is luring fresh Initiates through… unorthodox means. Bringing in women as ‘new blood’ prospects, but we know it for what it is.”

My lips press flat as his stare tracks me. The barest flicker of something darker lurks in those depths. A hint of disquiet buried beneath ingrained decorum and resignation over being a pedigree stud in some warped breeding programme.

“Right, because offering up women like livestock isn’t barbaric enough without resorting to capturing strays?” The words drip derision, a slap across his mask of indifference. “You can’t expect me to ignore their escalating depravity while parroting that ‘honoured tradition’ shite as they drag us into fresh hell.”

For a beat, something indefinable flickers across Arius’ face—a ripple of unease he quickly strangles. Those features harden into stoicism as he finishes his beer and rises in one fluid motion.

“I’d hoped to avoid rehashing this debate.” A sigh hisses through clenched teeth as Arius deposits the empty bottle. His stare remains fixed on me, shoulders rolling in calculated nonchalance. “You’ve made your objections abundantly clear, . As have I regarding where my obligations lie in obeying the Edicts. You’re not obligated to take part in anything with West.”

Those words strike a chord of resentment, gouging fresh wounds. After everything we’ve endured, everything they’ve twisted in pursuit of breeding soulless butchers… he still clings to their poisoned creed like a dog begging for scraps. It’s more than I can stomach.

Nostrils flaring, I shove away from the table, slamming my laptop shut before stalking to the bedroom without a parting shot. Arius makes no move to stop me, allowing my abrupt departure to linger in the void of unresolved tension. Just like every time I dare question the Elders’ atrocities and find my words swallowed by rancid dogma.

If only there was a way to walk away from this life and never look back.