“Shit indeed.”

The words didn’t come from the room. They came from inside my head. Hill’s voice slid through my thoughts like a blade through silk, smooth, sharp, leaving no place to hide. For one terrifying beat, I thought my knees might actually buckle. But I forced my face into stone. If he were in my head, then fine. He wasn’t going to see me crack. I flicked my gaze up at him. His face was unreadable, expression carved into something calm and disinterested, like my private panic wasn’t even worth raising an eyebrow over. He was good. Too good. Before I could think another word, Scorched’s voice broke the silence, low and commanding, dragging my attention back to him.

“Hill,” the dragon rumbled, “I want her name. And I want to know what sort of magical she is.”

My stomach twisted. I stayed rooted to the floor, jaw clenched, eyes locked on the desk in front of me. My heart hammered against my ribs, but outwardly, I gave them nothing. Not fear, not obedience. Nothing. But inside, my thoughts were anything but still. If he could read me, then he’d know everything: the name I’d kept hidden, the slip of wild magic that had scorched an enforcer’s face, the truth about where I’d come from. Worse, he’d know the things I thought about him the second he walked in the room. Things no sane girl should think about a teacher, let alone one who could rifle through her mind like flipping pages in a book. And if Scorched wanted answers, Hill was about to hand them to him. Unless… I found a way to stop him.

Hill’s presence pressed against my mind like a velvet weight. Smooth, firm, confident. He wasn’t tearing his way in with claws; he didn’t need to. His skill was honed, refined, the kind of touch that promised he could peel back my thoughts layer by layer without breaking a sweat. Except he didn’t account for one thing. Me. I felt it the second his power brushed mine again, an opening, an invitation, whether he meant it or not. Instinct surged through me. I reached out and siphoned. His power flowed into me like lightning through an open wire, sizzling hot and heady, and before I could think better of it, I mirrored him. I built walls. Barriers. Not physical ones, but mental fortresses, slamming doors shut in every direction. He tried again, pushing harder this time, but my stolen strength shoved him back. For the first time, his perfect composure cracked. His brow furrowed, his jaw tightened.

His storm-grey eyes locked with mine. Who the hell are you? His voice boomed through my head, sharp with frustration.

I let the corner of my mouth curl into a smirk. Your worst nightmare, I said inside his own mind.

His eyes widened, and he took a step back from me. The silence that followed was heavy. Scorched’s ember gaze shifted between us, the heat in the room almost unbearable.

“Well?” the dragon asked finally, a note of irritation curling under his words.

Hill dragged his eyes away from mine, straightening his shoulders. His voice was even, but I caught the edge there, like admitting this cost him something. “Her name is Allison Rivers,” he said, “and I have no idea what she is…I think, I can only assume she has a gift like mine.”

Scorched’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, you think? You’ve never had this issue before, Professor.”

Hill’s frown deepened, the slightest muscle ticking in his jaw. He looked back at me like I was something dangerous he couldn’t decide whether to dissect or desire. “She’s powerful. That’s all I know. I can’t breach her mind.”

Powerful. Not broken. Not feral. Not nothing. The word thrummed in my chest, dangerous and new.

Scorched leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, eyes glowing faintly brighter like embers catching wind. A low hum rumbled in his chest, thoughtful, dangerous.

“Well,” he said at last, “if she does have a power like yours, then we’ll be in luck. Such a rare gift can be quite useful to the Council.”

The way he said it made my stomach twist. Useful. Not valuable. Not important. Just a tool for them to sharpen and wield. His gaze lingered on me a moment longer, heavy enough to make my skin prickle. Then he flicked his hand, dismissive, like I wasn’t worth any more of his time.

“Get her set up with a class schedule,” he told Hill. “And take her to Dorm Building D. She’ll be in room 304.”

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