Jase wasn't someone who overthought. He'd trained for years to control his emotions, to trust his instincts without letting them cloud his judgment. Staying detached was easy—it kept him sharp, steady, a good Luminary.
But right now, none of that seemed to matter.
His jaw tightened as he leaned back on the bench. He looked calm, but inside, he was tense, restless, and irritated in a way he couldn't ignore.
His jaw tightened as he leaned back on the bench, arms resting along the backrest. He looked relaxed, but every part of him was tense with irritation he couldn't seem to shake.
His eyes scanned the courtyard—the students chatting in groups, the laughter drifting through the warm afternoon air—but none of it held his attention.
Because his focus had locked onto just one person.
Celeste.
She stood by the garden, her dark hair blowing gently in the breeze as she talked to another student—a guy.
Jase's fingers curled against the bench, his grip tightening before he even noticed.
He didn't recognize the guy. Just another Mortalis, probably from one of her classes. Nothing important.
But then the guy laughed—just loud enough for Jase to hear—and something in him tensed. Hard.
And then Celeste smiled.
It wasn't much. A small curve of her lips, polite, nothing out of the ordinary. But it landed differently. Like something sharp embedding itself deep in his chest, searing and unexpected, a slow-burning match struck too close to his skin.
Why does he felt like pulling her away?
Jase let out a sharp breath, raking a hand through his hair as he forced himself to look away. This was stupid. There was no reason to react like this. Celeste wasn't his. She was just a Mortalis—a girl who happened to cross his path, someone he was watching because of his suspicions, nothing else. She shouldn't matter. Not like this.
And yet—
His jaw tightened as his eyes drifted back to her, unable to resist. She was still talking to the guy, standing just close enough that their shoulders almost touched. Jase's fingers curled against the bench, frustration simmering in his chest. He didn't understand it—and he definitely didn't like it. Seeing her with someone else shouldn't bother him. It shouldn't make his blood heat or his body tense like he was ready for a fight. And it definitely shouldn't make him want to walk over there and end the conversation himself.
He closed his eyes for a brief second, inhaling deeply, trying to steady himself.
She's not yours, Jase. Remember, she's a Mortalis.
The thought came like a reminder, but it didn't ease the restless pull growing inside him. Because, for reasons he couldn't explain—reasons that had nothing to do with logic—he wanted her to be his.
Jase clenched his jaw, trying to push the feeling away, but the unease only grew—sharper, heavier, like an itch he couldn't scratch. It wasn't just frustration anymore, or the sting of jealousy as he watched Celeste talk to someone else. It was something deeper. Something was wrong.
His instincts, the ones that had kept him alive through danger and chaos, suddenly kicked in—sharp, alert, demanding.
At first, it was barely there, just a faint ripple in the air. A strange tension settled over the courtyard, quiet but unnatural, like something unseen was beginning to take shape.
His breath slowed. His body stilled. His eyes scanned the space around him, narrowing with focus.
A flicker—faint but clear—like a pulse of darkness beneath the surface of the world. It was quick, almost nothing, but Jase felt it. Knew it. His hands clenched at his sides, fingers itching for a weapon he didn't have.
Abyssal energy.
Weak, but present. Lurking. Watching. Waiting.
His stomach tightened, and his mind sharpened instantly. Why here? Why now? Abyssals didn't bother with towns like Alas. They fed on chaos, power, and fear—in cities where ambition ran wild and darkness was always close. They showed up where things were on the edge. But this? This quiet, ordinary town? It made no sense.
This wasn't random. It looked like they were looking for something.
Or someone.
His gaze flicked back to Celeste.
His chest tightened. His breath came slower, heavier.
No.
It can't be.
But the presence flickered again—quick and eerie, like a shadow slipping away before it could be seen. A test. A warning. A promise. Jase had been hunted before. He'd spent years learning how to feel when something was after him. And right now, every instinct in his body told him—this was no coincidence.
Jase barely noticed himself getting up. Before he could think or question it, his body was already moving—instinct taking over, his feet carrying him toward her before he could stop himself.
Celeste turned the moment he approached, her eyes widening slightly as she registered the look on his face.
"Jase?" she asked, confusion lacing her tone, her brows furrowing.
The guy she'd been talking to glanced between them, sensing the sudden tension. Jase barely looked at him. He didn't care who the guy was or what they'd been talking about—it didn't matter. All that mattered was her, standing there, unaware of the shift in the air, the faint sense that something was watching. His golden eyes locked onto hers, holding something silent but urgent—something he couldn't explain, even if he wanted to.
"Walk with me."
It wasn't a request.
Celeste blinked. "What—?"
Jase didn't wait for her to finish. He reached out, his hand wrapping gently but firmly around her wrist—a quiet, unspoken command. She froze, surprised, but he didn't let go. His grip wasn't harsh, just steady, leaving no room to argue. The guy hesitated but stayed silent. No one questioned a Luminary. That was just how their world worked.
But Celeste wasn't going to stay silent.
"Jase, what are you—"
"Just walk."
His voice was soft, low, but there was something in it—something firm enough to make her stop arguing. She let him guide her through the courtyard, past the staring students and hushed whispers. Everything around them faded as he led her toward the back of the school, down a quieter path. The air was cooler here, calmer—but the tension between them stayed.
Finally, Jase let go, exhaling as if he had been holding something in for too long.
Celeste immediately turned on him, arms crossing, her frustration radiating off her in waves. Her eyes, usually sharp with guarded skepticism, now blazed. "What the hell was that?"
Jase ran a hand through his hair, his frustration curling tight in his chest, turning inward, pressing against the part of him that had no idea why he was acting like this. He should have walked away. Should have left her alone. Should have told himself this had nothing to do with her.
But he couldn't.
"I cannot confirm," he admitted, voice rougher than he intended, his own words tasting bitter on his tongue.
Celeste narrowed her eyes. "What?"
He sighed, glancing away, hating how stupid this felt, how reckless it was. "Forget it."
Celeste's scowl deepened. "No. You just dragged me away from a conversation, and now you're telling me to forget it? Jase—"
"Something feels off."
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Celeste's expression faltered, her frustration giving way to something else—concern. "...What?"
Jase's jaw tensed. His instincts told him not to say anything—not yet. Not until he was sure. Not until he understood what was really going on. He wanted to brush it off.
But then he looked into her eyes again, and everything else faded—the Abyssals, the dark presence, all of it. All he could think about was how close she was, how warm her skin felt under his touch, how his heart had jumped the moment he reached for her.
This is bad.
Instead of answering, he stepped closer.
Celeste didn't move.
She should've stepped back, should've done something to ease the tension between them. But she didn't. She just stood there, breathing a little too quickly, frozen in place—like she felt the same pull he did.
His voice dropped lower, softer this time. "Just… stay close to me, okay?"
Celeste swallowed, her breath hitching slightly.
Jase was standing too close.
The golden flecks in his eyes seemed to glow in the fading light, making them look too intense, almost unreal. The air between them felt heavy, filled with something unspoken that made her heart race. Her fingers twitched at her sides, her whole body tense—waiting for something she couldn't explain.
"Jase…" Her voice was quieter than before, uncertain, hesitant. "You're acting weird."
Jase smirked slightly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "That makes two of us."
The air between them crackled, heavy with something unspoken.
For a second—just a second—Jase's gaze dropped to her lips.
It was quick—so fast he almost believed he imagined it. But it was real. His fingers twitched, his body reacting before his mind could stop it, breaking through the control he'd spent years building.
The air between them felt charged, like one small move could break everything.
Celeste's lips parted just a little, and he swore he felt it—the moment her breath caught.
Don't do it.
But the thought wasn't for her. It was for himself.
Before he could make a mistake, before he could give in to something dangerous, something irreversible, Jase exhaled sharply and stepped back.
"Just be careful. I could sense something watching."
His voice was lower, rougher, his restraint barely holding.
Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, heart pounding, breath uneven, knowing that whatever had just happened…
Wasn't something she could ignore either.
******
A hidden cave deep beneath a forgotten mountain range, far from the eyes of Luminaries or Mortalis. The air is damp and heavy, carrying the scent of and decay.
At the far end of the cave stood a throne of jagged obsidian, rough but powerful. Seated on it was Vaelith, the leader of the Abyssals.
His body was solid, like living stone—pale gray skin marked with dark lines that pulsed faintly, as if carrying something ancient and dark. Faintly glowing runes were carved into his arms, chest, and neck, and his golden-ringed eyes stared ahead—cold, sharp, and unblinking.
A cloaked figure steps forward, his form humanoid but warped—eyes still faintly glowing red from the power he had just drawn on.
Abyssal Scout: "My Lord Vaelith," the figure rasped, dropping to one knee. "I've returned from Alas."
Vaelith's ember eyes opened slowly, their gaze sharp enough to cut. "Speak."
"I spotted a Luminary," the scout said, keeping his gaze down. "His eyes were glowing, but towards a Luminary. He was looking at a Mortalis… a girl."
Vaelith's fingers tapped once on the throne, the sound sharp in the silence. "And?"
"He was looking at a Mortalis. A girl. Ordinary by appearance… but the way he looked at her…" The scout's voice dropped. "There was something there. Power… connection."
The silence that followed was cold and long.
Vaelith rose slowly from his throne, the ground beneath him cracking with a low hum of energy. "Who is she?"
The scout shook his head. "We don't know. No record. No crest. Just a name passed between classmates—Celeste. Her identity is otherwise… unknown."
A grin—slow and serpentine—curled across Vaelith's face. "Interesting," he murmured. "Maybe she's that baby we hunted 18 years ago… the one that vanished under the protection of a Luminary and a Mortalis."
He turned his gaze toward the shadows beyond the chamber.
"Continue to monitor from the dark. Do not engage. Do not harm the Mortalis."
The scout bowed deeper. "Yes, my lord."
Vaelith's smile lingered as he returned to his throne. "Let's see what the Luminaries do when they realize what she truly is."