Page 33 of Immortal Consequences (The Souls of Blackwood Academy #1)

August

Six days. That was how long it had been since August had spoken to Wren in the first trial. It wasn’t that he was counting, but how could he not notice her absence? It was a gaping hole carving his chest. A persistent hollowness he couldn’t shake.

And it was entirely his own doing.

He wasn’t ignoring her because it was the easy thing to do. He was distancing himself because it was the right thing to do. The Decennial had proven itself to be far more challenging than any of them had anticipated, and the last thing he wanted to do was distract her with their petty rivalry.

If he thought for too long about what had happened in the maze, he could feel the rage seeping back into his veins, the fury clouding his judgment.

He hadn’t heard everything the replica had said to Wren, but he’d heard enough.

When he’d driven the blade through the replica’s chest, he’d silently prayed it would put up a fight.

He’d been hungry to wrap his hands around its goddamn throat and make it suffer. He didn’t care that it wore his face.

He’d gladly watch the light fade from his own eyes.

And perhaps Wren wasn’t the only one who risked being distracted.

August was, whether he was proud to admit it or not, constantly aware of her presence. It was agonizing. The desperation to be near her. The ache that begged for her attention. It didn’t matter where he was or what he was doing, if Wren Loughty was nearby, he knew.

Which was why, despite his gaze being locked on the window next to him, August knew the exact moment she stepped into their Mind Alteration and Empathic Manipulation class.

It wasn’t just the intoxicating scent that clung to her, flooding the room.

Or the smooth cadence of her voice filling his ears as she politely greeted Housemaster Wesley. It was something intangible.

He simply felt her.

The familiar echo of Wren’s footsteps grew louder, and then the chair next to him scraped back as she slid into her seat, the warmth of her body overwhelming his senses. For a moment, neither of them said a word.

August bounced his knee beneath the desk, nervously fiddling with his ring.

Say something, you dolt.

His words were a scrambled mess in his mouth. Useless. It shouldn’t be this difficult to simply speak to her, not after all this time. It made him feel…wretched. He wanted to crawl out of his skin. He wanted to—

“Where have you been?”

August froze, his finger still wrapped around the silver band of his ring. He opened and shut his mouth. Words, Augustine. Use them. He swallowed, slipping his hands back out from under the table.

“Around.”

She snorted, leaning back in her chair. “Right. Excellent.”

August allowed himself a moment to glance in her direction. She looked—well, she looked radiant. All perfect and pristine, practically glowing. It was infuriating. Her braid slithered over her shoulder, not a single strand out of place. Her cheeks were rosy, as though she’d been kissed by the sun.

“Why do you ask?” He leaned in closer, unable to help himself. “Don’t tell me you missed me.”

Her cheeks reddened. A sight that made him feel wholly pleased—and perhaps a few other things he wasn’t inclined to mention.

“This might come as a shock to you, August, but there are other people I can hang out with. Unlike you, I actually have friends.”

At this, August stiffened. He couldn’t even bother to hide his displeasure. “You mean the new girl. Louise. I noticed you hanging out with her.”

“Jealous?”

“Not particularly.” The corner of his lip twitched into a smirk, though on the inside, he was reeling. “When did you two become so close?”

“I don’t really see how that’s any of your business.”

He shrugged and stretched his arms overhead, feigning indifference. “You two have been inseparable.”

“Have you been keeping tabs on me?”

The muscles on his neck involuntarily tensed. “It’s just an observation.”

“I’m allowed to make friends, August. And either way— you were the one who fell off the face of the afterlife the past week.”

August flinched. “I didn’t disappear. You just weren’t looking.”

“I—” Wren’s breath hitched in her throat.

August knew the words he secretly hoped to hear her say—the words he ached to hear out loud: Of course I was looking for you.

But instead, she simply sighed and said, “I just find the timing peculiar. You’ve dedicated your existence to pestering me every second of every day, and now… nothing. Seems awfully convenient.”

He masked his disappointment with a shrug. “My apologies. I didn’t realize you were vying for my attention.”

Wren shook her head. “You know what? Forget it. I don’t know why I expected anything else.”

Something in her voice startled August. It was a sense of exasperation—a finality in the way she turned away from him. He was racking his brain for something to say, anything to break the silence he had caused, when Housemaster Wesley cleared his throat and addressed the classroom.

“All right, students! Settle down.” He clumsily wiped his glasses on his linen shirt, nearly dropping them in the process.

“We will begin today’s class with some good old-fashioned mind-alteration exercises.

Help us warm up the muscles.” He scanned the room, his eyes landing on August. “Mr.Hughes…mind starting us off?”

August groaned internally as he rose from the table. He could feel the students around him staring, their apprehension and fear a tightening noose around his throat. Years ago, such obvious disdain would have wounded him.

But now…now he was simply thankful for it.

He took his place next to Wesley, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Splendid.” Wesley let out a nervous laugh, eyes scanning the rest of the room. “Now, if we can get a volunteer to challenge Mr.Hughes—”

“I’ll do it.” Wren stood up, eyes glinting.

August glanced up at the ceiling, tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth.

Of course.

“What a surprise,” Wesley muttered beneath his breath, gesturing her forward. “Very well. Come to the front of the class, please.”

Wren moseyed toward them, eyes locked on August the entiretime.

“The exercise is quite simple,” Wesley explained.

“You will each stand on one of the lines drawn on the floor and attempt to take hold of the other’s mind.

You will want to first latch onto their basic, surface-level emotions—the first layer of their conscious mind.

Once that is properly secured, you may attempt to push deeper into their subconscious.

Having done so, the goal is to convince the other to move off the line. First person to move…loses.”

“Easy enough,” said Wren, sauntering over to one of the white lines drawn on the floor.

August flexed his fingers, making his way to the other line, which lay a few feet away from Wren. He planted the soles of his boots firmly over the line, glancing up at her. “Don’t go easy on me now, darling.”

Her lips curved into a confident smirk. “I wouldn’t dare.”

August chuckled.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

Wesley cleared his throat. “All right. If you’re both ready…”

August closed his eyes.

“Begin.”

The first thing he saw was red. An endless sea of crimson and scarlet—waves of auburn crashing against a rocky shoreline.

He’d dipped into Wren’s mind before, during similar exercises like this, but he still hadn’t grown accustomed to the chaos lingering just beyond what he could see.

There were too many emotions to rifle through, and Wren had done a decent enough job placing a complex web of mental wards, inhibiting August from accessing anything too personal.

But even with her defensive layers, he could still feel the overwhelming grief choking at his senses.

The palpable sadness. There was something hidden here, deep in the recesses of her mind, something she had never allowed anyone to see.

August would never violate that privacy, would never even dream of it.

But he still wanted to know…if only to help fix whatever was broken inside her.

He pushed through the surface emotions, falling deeper.

He could sense Wren fighting him—a current pulling him backward, a set of invisible hands gripping his wrist. There she is.

But he trudged forward, using all his mental strength to counter her defensive measures.

It was their usual game of cat and mouse, the give-and-take he was familiar with.

But then something shifted. Her resistance slackened.

Her usual strength somehow weakened. There was a second of resistance, one final tug on her end, and then her wards snap ped and August went hurtling into the core of her mind.

He wrapped his psyche magic around her, iron chains that he knew wouldn’t budge.

Move forward. He whispered the command into her mind. Step off the line.

There was a startled gasp. A choked sound of surprise.

And then August was violently yanked out of Wren’s mind as his eyes snapped open.

He didn’t even notice the class around him—the wide eyes watching them with intrigue.

All of his attention was focused on Wren.

She had stepped off the line, legs shaking, as though even her limbs were in shock from the sudden movement.

“Very good, Mr.Hughes.” Wesley clapped and the classroom clapped along with him, the sound reverberating in August’s ears. “A wonderful demonstration of finely honed psyche skills. Now, if we can get the next person to—”

Wesley’s words were cut short as Wren stormed off, pushing past August. He didn’t hesitate, his own legs moving beneath him as he chased after her, ignoring Wesley’s protests as they exited the classroom and entered the corridor.

Once the door had slammed behind them, August reached out, grabbing Wren by the wrist. She stumbled to a stop, turning abruptly to face him.

She was furious, that much was clear. Her cheeks were tinged pink, her eyes almost glassy.

She seemed to be either holding back tears or resisting the urge to smack him across the face. Probably the latter, knowing Wren.

“Let. Go. ” She gritted her teeth, chin lifted high.

“What is going on with you?” August asked, bewildered.

Wren yanked her wrist free. “Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, ” August hissed. “You’ve never been one to back away from a challenge. To run off when things don’t go your way. And what happened back there? You were barely resisting me! This isn’t like you.”

“Maybe you just don’t know me as well as you think you do,” she countered.

“Bullshit.” August scoffed, leaning in closer. “You are…you are agonizingly talented. It drives me mad.” He rubbed his face in exasperation, a low chuckle rattling in the back of his throat. “ You drive me mad.”

Wren shook her head.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend we’re friends. We don’t like each other, August.” She gestured between the two of them, a bitter chuckle escaping her throat. “That’s how this works. I mean, we’ve literally taken turns trying to stab one another for fun.”

“Exactly,” August whispered. “For fun. Come on. Don’t act like you don’t like it.”

Wren scoffed. “I don’t—”

“In fact, I think you love it.” August stepped toward her, closing the space between them, their faces mere inches apart. “Fighting with me. Our constant bickering. The desperate need we have to try to find a way to feel alive. Admit it.”

“No,” Wren replied, voice wavering. “I—I hate you.”

“Do you want to know what I think?” He leaned in even closer.

Close enough that he could imagine the feeling of his lips grazing hers.

His hands touching her. “I think you hate how much you don’t hate me.

You hate how much you enjoy being around me.

How much you want to be near me. You hate that this twisted thing between us feels… good.”

Wren didn’t respond. Her eyes bored into his, brimming with defiance.

He held his breath, waiting for her to respond, for her to break the spell.

He knew he was treading a dangerous line, but hell …

he couldn’t help himself. He had to be selfish—just this once.

But when she didn’t respond, whatever bravado he had been feeling washed away, replaced by a profound rush of shame.

August cursed under his breath. “Loughty. I shouldn’t have—”

“I have to go,” Wren blurted out, the moment instantly fizzling away.

August leaned his back against the classroom door, surprised to find that his hands were trembling.

“Of course,” he gritted out.

But there was one more thing bothering August, one more thought tugging at his mind. And as Wren turned away from him, prepared to leave, he called out to her.

“Loughty.” He cleared his throat. “Watch yourself around the new girl. I don’t trust her.”

Wren sighed, peering over her shoulder. “You don’t trust anyone.”

“Just…” August shook his head, the words struggling to break free. The corners of his mouth lifted into a rueful smile, almost agonized. “Be careful.”

“Isn’t that usually my line?” Wren took another step away from him. August gave her a stern look, which seemed only to make her feel all the more pleased with herself. “Don’t worry about me, August. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

He sighed, glancing down at his shoes. “Infamous last words…”

“Have a good night!” Wren called over her shoulder, twiddling her fingers in the air.

“Without the pleasure of your company?” August called out behind her, biting the inside of his cheek. “Doubtful.”