THIRD PERON'S POV

LATE NIGHT - Library

The library was nearly empty, the silence hanging like cobwebs between towering shelves. Lanterns flickered, their flames unnaturally still. Everything in Ravenshade had a way of looking like it was breathing, even the walls.

The five of them sat at a long, ancient table.

It wasn't a casual gathering.

It wasn't a club meeting.

It was a whisper of rebellion.

Ira Karki leaned forward, elbows on the table, fingers clasped tightly together. She didn't waste time.

"We want out," she said.

Sonam didn't nod-she didn't have to. Her presence was confirmation enough, sharp and unreadable beside Ira, like fire and flint.

The boys stiffened.

Ato didn't blink, but his body tensed beside Arav. Farhad shifted uncomfortably in his chair, eyes flicking between the girls and the exit.

"We?" Arav asked, cautiously. "As in... you two?"

"We think we all should," Sonam said. "This place-whatever it is-we're not staying long enough to disappear like the last Forsaken Club."

Ato's jaw flexed. "That's not your call to make."

Ira's gaze shot to him, sharp as glass. "It's not yours either."

Tension crackled.

Farhad spoke up, voice low and shaky. "You think we can escape? From here? They watch everything."

"That's why we plan," Sonam said. "We've already started tracking guard shifts and the patrol dogs in the east forest."

"They're not dogs," Arav muttered under his breath. "I've heard them. They whisper."

No one laughed.

Ato finally leaned forward, arms folded. "You're being reckless. You don't know what's out there."

"We know what's in here," Ira shot back. "This place kills people."

Arav looked between them. "So what-you want us to just run into the trees at night and hope for the best?"

Ira looked at Farhad.

She saw the way his hands trembled under the table. The fear he carried wasn't imagined. It was real. And it wasn't just his.

"We're not trying to be heroes," she said, more quietly. "We're trying to survive. That's all."

A pause.

Ato didn't respond. Not right away.

But Ira saw it-the flicker of something in his expression. Conflict. Rage wrapped in protectiveness.

"I won't let anyone get hurt," he said. "Especially not because of impatience."

Ira stood slowly. "Then stay. But don't stop us."

She turned, Sonam following her without a word.

Farhad stood too, hesitating. "When?"

"Soon," Ira said, not looking back. "Before this place eats another year out of us."

The boys were left in silence. Not divided.

Just... fractured.

And above them, unseen between the cracks in the ceiling, the walls seemed to breathe just a little louder.

THIRD PERSON'S POV

NEXT DAY - Morning

The classroom felt colder than usual.

Not in temperature-but in the way sound seemed to vanish the second the door opened.

Ira stepped in first.

Ato followed, tall and quiet like a shadow at her heels.

Every conversation stopped.

The scrape of a chair. The creak of someone shifting. A boy near the front blinked too long, like he was unsure if he should look away-or not look at all.

No one spoke.

Because something had changed.

Not in what they were wearing, or even how they walked.

But in the air between them.

They didn't touch. Didn't even glance at each other. But somehow, everyone could feel it-that tight, invisible string stretched between them. Not affection. Not romance.

Something quieter.

Tension wrapped in silence. Rage folded in restraint. A thread pulled too tight but still unbroken.

Ira took her seat by the window, pulled out her notebook like nothing happened. Her face unreadable.

Ato sat two rows behind. Arms crossed. Eyes forward.

But in every second of stillness, they were aware of each other's breathing.

Arav raised an eyebrow from beside Farhad. He leaned closer and whispered, "Okay... did we miss a breakup or a murder plot?"

Farhad blinked nervously. "They weren't even dating... right?"

Arav just smiled like he knew something they didn't. "Yet."

At the front, the teacher entered with a stack of old papers. The class stirred to life again-but quieter, more hesitant.

No one asked where Ato and Ira had been that morning.

No one dared.

And as the chalk scratched across the board, neither of them saw how Sonam glanced at Ira from across the room, concern flickering in her sharp eyes.

Nor how Ato caught it.

And looked away.

Something had cracked between the alpha and the witch. And whatever it was, it hadn't healed overnight.

SONAM'S POV

AFTER CLASSES - Evening

He was waiting for me by the stairwell

Leaning against the rusted railing like he belonged there, one foot resting on the wall behind him.

That same grey hoodie. That same crooked smile. That same trying too hard to not try at all energy.

"Hey," he said, when I got close.

I raised an eyebrow. "You follow everyone, or am I just lucky?"

He placed a hand over his heart, mock offended. "I waited. There's a difference. Besides-who else would I harass in this gothic nightmare of a school?"

"You really want me to answer that?"

He grinned. "No, but I like it when you threaten me."

I rolled my eyes and brushed past him-but didn't walk away.

Instead, I leaned on the opposite railing, arms crossed, keeping just enough distance between us.

He didn't fill the silence.

For once, he let it stretch.

Then, softly-

"You okay?"

I blinked. "What?"

"You haven't said two words since the meeting yesterday. Or the one before. Which, I know, for you is basically 'loud.' So, yeah. I noticed."

I didn't reply right away.

The air smelled faintly of iron and old wood. The hallway was empty, echoing.

"I'm fine," I said.

"You don't have to be."

That caught me off guard.

When I looked at him again, he wasn't smiling.

Not the usual grin. Not the flirt.

Just... calm. Steady. Watching.

"I'm used to danger," I muttered. "I'm not used to... plans failing. Or trusting anyone but myself."

"Well," Arav said with a shrug, "if it helps-I trust you."

I raised an eyebrow again. "That's reckless."

He grinned. "Exactly."

A beat of silence. The warm kind.

Then, before I could stop it, I said, "Don't get yourself killed, Ray."

He tapped the railing. "Same to you, Firewall."

I froze.

He walked off, hands in his pockets, whistling low.

He named me.

IRA'S POV

The academy's garden wasn't a garden anymore.

It looked like something that had died long ago but was too stubborn to decay. The wind didn't move the branches. The trees stood still like they were listening.

That's where I found Farhad.

Sitting on a crooked bench, knees pulled up, arms wrapped around them. He didn't hear me approach at first. His fingers were twitching against his uniform pant, tapping out an anxious rhythm that didn't seem to stop.

I stood a few feet away, unsure why I'd followed him in the first place. Maybe it was the way he hadn't spoken at lunch. Maybe it was the way he avoided everyone's eyes in class.

Or maybe-just maybe-I recognized the look on his face.

The look of someone trying not to fall apart.

He looked up as my boots clicked against the stone path. Eyes wide. Like he'd been caught crying, though no tears had fallen.

"Oh," he said, voice too small. "Hey."

"You didn't eat anything in the canteen," I said.

He tried to smile. Failed.

"I wasn't hungry."

Liar. His fingers hadn't stopped moving. His body screamed with nerves.

I didn't sit beside him. Not at first. I leaned against the dead tree next to the bench and crossed my arms.

"You're afraid," I said plainly.

He flinched. "You don't sugarcoat anything, do you?"

"I don't believe in sugar," I said. "Just truth."

Silence stretched. The kind that feels like it might snap.

Then, he whispered, "I'm not strong like the rest of you."

That caught me off guard.

"You think any of us are strong?" I asked, my voice a little sharper now.

"You are," he said quickly. "I mean-you walked into the West Wing without blinking. You told off that guy like you could set him on fire. You don't even flinch when the lights go out."

I let out a breath.

"You see the armor," I murmured. "Not the bruises beneath it."

He looked down.

"I don't want to die here," he said. "I have a sister. She's thirteen. She's still scared of the dark, and I'm not there to remind her that monsters aren't real. But here-" His voice cracked. "Here, they are."

That hit deeper than I expected.

I moved to sit beside him, slowly.

"You're not weak, Farhad," I said. "Being scared doesn't make you weak. Hiding it, pretending everything's fine-that's what kills people in places like this."

He looked at me then. Eyes glassy. "Then what do I do?"

I reached over, gently placed a hand on his wrist.

"You stay with me," I said softly. "I won't let anything happen to you. I promise."

His breath caught.

"You don't even like people," he said, with a hint of a smile.

"I don't," I admitted. "But I hate losing them more."

For the first time, he smiled for real. Small. Shy.

And I realized-I wasn't just fighting for answers anymore.

I was fighting for them.

All of them.

Even the soft-hearted boy with trembling hands who reminded me what it meant to be brave, even while afraid.

He breathed in like it hurt. But when he looked at me again, there was something steadier in his eyes.

"You're not what I expected," he said.

"Good," I muttered, standing. "Because what I am is the reason we're going to survive this."

~

The sky looked warped tonight.

Like the clouds had been peeled back and stitched on wrong. The moon hung too low-like it was watching.

I found him near the edge of the East courtyard, just past the crooked statue of the saint no one remembered.

Ato Yeptho. Back against the wall. Head tilted up.

A cigarette burned between his fingers, the smoke curling into something that looked like silence.

He didn't notice me at first. Or maybe he did-and didn't care.

I watched him for a second. The way his shoulders moved when he exhaled. The way his eyes didn't flinch at the cold.

Ato was always composed. Always still.

But tonight... he looked like a storm trying not to break.

"You're not supposed to smoke here," I said finally.

He didn't even glance at me.

"Add that to the list of things I'm not supposed to do."

I stepped closer, boots crunching softly over the gravel.

"You were quiet today."

"So were you."

"Not the same."

He looked at me then.

Sharp. Tired. Burning from behind the eyes.

"You made your choice," he said. "What else is there to say?"

"I'm not here to argue," I lied.

He gave a short, humorless laugh. "Then why are you here?"

"Because I told Farhad I'd protect him. And the others. And whether you like it or not, you're part of that too."

"I don't need protecting," he snapped.

"Maybe not. But they do. And you're supposed to be the strong one."

"You think I don't care?"

"I think you're pretending you don't," I snapped. "But not all of us were built with stone in our chest. Some of us break. Some of us cry. Farhad-he's just a kid trying to get back to his sister."

Ato looked away. For a second, just a second, something cracked in him.

Then came the words I'll never forget.

"You can't save everyone, Ira."

My breath caught.

"And that's what breaks you," he added softly. "You'd burn yourself to keep others warm."

"I'd rather burn than watch them die."

He looked away, jaw clenched.

I didn't stop.

"You stand there like you don't feel anything, like all this doesn't scare you. But I know it does. I saw it in your eyes when that masked freak said we were arranged."

Silence.

Then, softly-

"You're not afraid?"

"I'm terrified," I admitted. "But I'm not going to freeze and let it happen."

He dropped the cigarette, crushed it under his heel.

"And what do you want me to do, Ira?"

"Help us escape," I said. "Help them live."

"I already told you-"

"You think standing still is strength?" I cut him off. "You think saying no makes you noble?"

He stepped toward me-close enough that I could smell the smoke on his skin, layered over something warmer.

Earth and ash. Something old. Something real.

"I think running blind gets people killed."

"And I think doing nothing does the same."

A pause. His breath caught. Mine too.

"I don't want to lose anyone," I said. "Not even you."

His gaze dropped to my lips. Just for a second.

Something shifted.

He didn't touch me.

Didn't speak.

Just looked like he wanted to.

And for once-I didn't look away.

____________________________________

✦ Author's Note ✦

This isn't a school. It's a graveyard dressed in uniforms.

Ravenshade doesn't teach you. It breaks you.

The Forsaken Club wasn't formed. It was summoned.

They were never meant to survive-only to be studied, consumed, erased.

This story bleeds. It whispers. It watches.

If you're reading this,

You're already part of it.

- @authorechha 🖤