Page 34 of Immortal Consequences (The Souls of Blackwood Academy #1)

Wren

Wren was still an absolute wreck hours after her psyche class. August’s words replayed in her head, unending.

You hate that this twisted thing between us feels…good.

She had wanted to deny it. She had wanted to rip her arm away from his grasp and tell him he was wrong. But…she couldn’t. She knew, deep down, in some part of her, that he was right. She never felt more alive than when she was with him.

But August would never share his feelings with her—he kept too much of himself hidden, too much of his heart locked away.

She’d only be setting herself up for disappointment.

Despite that, a part of her had begun to feel strangely comforted by his nagging presence. August was reliably annoying—a thread of certainty within the strange world she had found herself in. And maybe, just maybe, she enjoyed that twisted sense of stability more than she was willing to admit.

Luckily, she had ways to distract herself. Especially given the fact that she had made a new friend.

“It’s not going to work,” Louise groaned. “I’ve already tried about a dozen times! I’m hopeless. ”

“Clear your mind. Concentrate. You can do this.”

“I tried that already.”

“Well, try again. It takes practice. And practice takes persistence.”

Louise scrunched her features in concentration and closed her eyes.

Wren had been attempting for the past week to teach her how to cast a relocation spell.

Spacial magic was one of the more complex magical affinities taught at Blackwood, so it was no surprise that she still hadn’t been successful.

But Wren knew she was close. She could feel it in the air—the palpable electricity of magic radiating from Louise’s skin.

The other girl’s form flickered. One second Louise was there, solid and real, and the next she had materialized a few feet to the left. Her eyes shot open and she let out a shriek of delight, clapping her hands together.

“I did it!”

“It’s a good start,” Wren chuckled. “But that was only about five feet or so.”

“But it’s still something,” Louise countered, pride glistening in her eyes. “It was amazing. I could feel it happen. It was like…like I was floating.”

“And soon enough you’ll be able to do that across large distances. Ideally, you’ll be able to relocate across campus in a few weeks.”

Louise nodded fervently, pushing up the sleeves of her dress. “Let’s try it again.”

“We don’t want to exhaust your spacial reserve,” Wren reminded her. “Remember, you only have a limited amount. If you use it all, it can take days to replenish it.”

“Oh, come on,” Louise begged. “Just one more time!” But as the words left her lips, a tiny trickle of blood leaked out of her nose, dripping onto her upper lip.

Wren gasped, rushing forward to examine her face. “Lou. You’re bleeding.”

Louise wiped her nose, examining the blood with a wary chuckle. “Well, I guess you’re right. I might be pushing myself slightly past my limits.”

“That shouldn’t happen,” Wren whispered, eyes roaming over Louise’s face. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“I’m fine, Mom. ” Louise playfully nudged her, wiping the remaining blood with the back of her hand. “If anything, I should be asking you how you’re feeling.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m sure it’s been hard balancing the pressure of the Decennial with all your classes.” Louise let out a long sigh. “I can’t even imagine the stress you’re feeling.”

Wren blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in Louise’s voice. “I’m…I’m okay.”

Louise tentatively edged closer.

“You sure?”

Wren opened and closed her mouth, surprised to find she wasn’t entirely certain how to answer.

“It’s hard to explain. The Decennial being a competition has changed”—Wren sighed, looking up at the darkening sky—“ everything. We all want to win. We all have our reasons. So I can’t help but feel for those who get eliminated.

It could easily be me next, you know? And Nick and Liza…

” She shook her head. “A part of me knows, deep down, that they deserved it just as much as I do.”

Louise blinked in confusion. “Nick and Liza?”

“From Holsterd.”

Louise shook her head.

“I don’t think I’ve heard of them before.”

“Really? I assumed everyone had heard who was nominated by now.” Wren was about to question further when she remembered a vital piece of information and chuckled softly beneath her breath. “ Oh. Right. I guess I keep forgetting you’re new.”

Louise blushed. “Yeah. Still the newbie.”

It was in that moment, the two of them standing among the oak trees, the wind sending strands of pale blond hair across Louise’s ivory skin, that the similarity dawned on Wren. It was so jarring, so sudden, that she let out a shudder, unable to stop herself from stumbling backward.

Louise’s face fell. “What—what is it?”

“It’s just…” Wren could barely get the words out, her mouth running dry. “You…you remind me of someone.”

“Who?”

Wren couldn’t bring herself to say it. To speak her name. She hadn’t spoken her name in eighteen years. She hadn’t let herself. Because speaking her name meant reliving what she had tried so desperately to forget. If she spoke her name, she made her real. She made what had happened to her real.

Wren shook her head, composing herself. “Just…someone I used to know. From my old life.”

Louise nodded, clearly sensing that Wren didn’t want to push the matter further. Her face broke into a soft smile.

“You know,” Louise began, glancing up at the sky, “despite everything that’s happened…despite all of this ”—she gestured at Blackwood, arms falling by her sides—“I’m glad I met you.”

An overwhelming warmth spread through Wren, a profound fondness that instantly melted away any reservations she might have had.

August was right—there were still moments of doubt.

Moments when she considered there might be something she was missing, something unanswered.

But looking at Louise now, she knew. Whatever this friendship was, it wasn’t just some fabrication.

It was real.

“Me too, Lou.” Wren smiled at her. “Me too.”