Page 7

I ’m not sure when exactly I became the kind of guy who checks his phone every thirty seconds.

Maybe it’s the isolation.

Sable unblocked my number yesterday. I noticed immediately, not that I’d admit how many times I tried to text her while I was blocked. But now that I’m back on her radar, I’ve texted her more in the last twenty-four hours than I have in the last two months.

Every time my phone buzzes, I scramble to check it.

It’s pathetic.

Like a lovesick schoolboy desperate for any scrap of her attention, and each time she takes too long to reply, I can feel that familiar burn in my chest—the jealousy, the insecurity. What the fuck is she doing that’s more important than replying to me? Is she spending time with someone else? Someone I don’t know about?

I rub a hand down my face, scrolling through the messages we’ve exchanged today. The latest one makes me smirk in spite of everything.

Mahal3

Maybe next time Dayton should stick to cereal. Save us all the trouble.

Me

He could burn cereal if he tried hard enough.

The lightness in our conversation is a reprieve, a moment where things feel… normal. But underneath it, I’m restless. Why is she keeping her distance? Why does she need space when she should be leaning on me—on us? Doesn’t she know I am lost without both of them here?

I text her again, trying to keep the desperation out of my message.

Me

I’m starting to feel as lovesick as Dayton. You need to come back.

Her reply takes longer this time, and with each second that passes, my mind spins.

Finally, my phone buzzes, and relief floods my chest.

Mahal3

Careful. That’s a dangerous comparison.

Me

Can I see you?

There’s a pause, the dots appearing and disappearing as she types and retypes. My fingers hover over the keyboard, wanting to say more. But I hold back. The last thing she needs is me suffocating her, but God, the silence is so loud without her.

Mahal3

Tomorrow. In the gardens. I’ll be there after classes.

I stare at the message for a long moment, my chest loosening, the tension in my shoulders easing ever so slightly. It’s not much, but it’s something. She’s agreed to see me, and that’s all I need to get through the rest of the night.

Me

See you tomorrow. Goodnight, Mahal.

I toss the phone on the bed and let out a breath, leaning back in my chair. My desktop is still open, the screen littered with articles about Victoria. I’m hoping to find something about the Syndicate and who they are, but none of it is helping. None of it is getting Levi back.

And none of it is filling the void that Sable left when she walked out of the Manor.

Classes don’t go by fast enough. The moment the professor lets us out, I’m out the door, shoving through the sea of students clogging the pathways. My mind is ahead of me, racing to the gardens in the middle of campus.

The day is trapped between late afternoon and evening, the light folding into soft, muted golds and grays. Shadows stretch long under the archway as I rush beneath it, gravel crunching beneath my steps. The air carries the faint scent of jasmine and wet stone—lingering evidence of last night’s rain.

When I finally break through the rows of perfectly manicured hedges, I see her.

Even from this distance, she commands space like it was made for her. The two trees framing the fountain explode with bursts of crimson leaves, their fiery edges dipping toward her as though they, too, are reaching for her.

The statue behind her rises tall and silent. It’s the same one that she has been spending the entire semester perfecting a sketch of, and she will eventually turn it into a canvas piece for her final project. Tiny flecks of sunlight peek through the canopy above, gilding her shoulders and the line of her spine in a quiet glow.

The pull— that pull—takes hold, hard and unrelenting. Like invisible wires threaded through my ribs, yanking me forward. My chest aches, and yet every nerve in my body feels alive, electrified by the very sight of her.

Sable doesn’t know I’m here yet. Or maybe she does.

Her hair is down, those loose, dark honey waves falling effortlessly around her shoulders, brushing just past her collarbone. The slight breeze catches a few strands, lifting them gently before they settle again, framing her face in a way that’s unfairly perfect. She’s wearing the cream-colored sweater that is my favorite, the one that’s just a little too big for her, falling off one shoulder, exposing the smooth curve of her skin beneath.

I take a moment to drink her in. The way her fingers brush the edges of the fountain, her touch soft, almost absent-minded like she’s lost in thought.

When she turns, my breath hitches. Her lips, soft and parted, almost as if she’s waiting to say something, her brows furrowed in that slight, thoughtful way that I’ve seen a thousand times. She looks tired. But still… fuck, she’s beautiful.

Her eyes catch mine just then, and everything in me goes tight. I didn’t realize how badly I needed to see her up close until this very moment.

She blinks, almost like she’s surprised to see me, and for a second, we just stand there, staring at each other across the garden. I take a step closer, and it’s like the whole world shrinks down to just this—just her. The way her lips twitch into a small, tentative smile, the way her chest rises and falls with a slow, measured breath.

I can’t tear my eyes away from her. Not from the curve of her jaw, the faint flush of color on her cheeks, the way the light turns her eyes into molten pools of amber.

“Sable,”

“Hey, Kai.”

I want to close the distance between us, pull her into my arms, and feel the weight of her against me, but I stop myself. I can’t overwhelm her. Not yet.

“Thanks for meeting me,” I say, my hands buried deep in my pockets, treating them as my little hand prisons so I don’t feel the need to touch her.

She nods, glancing around the gardens. “I needed the fresh air,” she admits, her eyes distant for a moment before they land back on me. “I can’t go back to the Manor. I don’t know why. I just can’t bring myself to do it.”

“Dayton’s been pretty miserable without you.”

She looks away for a moment, and the smile falters slightly. “Kai… I didn’t come here to talk about Dayton…”

“Then why are we here, Mahal?—”

“What if Levi actually did something?”

For a moment, all I can do is stare at her, the shock ricocheting through my system. “What?” I breathe, my heart pounding so loudly I can barely think. “You can’t be serious, Sable. Levi would never?—”

“How do we know that?”

“No,” I say firmly, the denial rising up instinctively. “No, you don’t get it. Levi wouldn’t do that. He’s our—He wouldn’t fucking hurt anyone.”

“Are you sure about that?” she asks quietly. “Or are you just saying that because…” She hesitates, biting her lip. “Because you’re so blinded by love, you’d believe anything if it meant saving him.”

I open my mouth to argue, to deny it, to say anything that might change the direction of this conversation, but instead, the truth slips out before I can stop it.

“I’m in love with both of you,”

Sable blinks, her eyes widening as the confession hangs in the air.

“I’m in love with both of you,” I repeat, quieter this time, my throat tight with emotion. “I can’t lose either of you. I can’t. I won’t.”