Chapter 140: Beneath The Ice

In sector 7 at the same time."Ysmeine, stop."

Kayla’s voice was a blade, sharp and final, cutting through the warm, quiet air of the corridor. She didn’t break her stride, her boots clicking against the polished floor with a rhythm that matched the rigid set of her shoulders. She was done with the conversation.

"Kayla, listen." Ysmeine’s voice followed her, persistent, a warm current against the ice of Kayla’s resolve. She caught up, her hand gently touching Kayla’s arm.

Kayla flinched away from the contact, finally stopping to turn. "There’s nothing to listen to. The answer is no."

"But he needs a proper mentor," Ysmeine demanded, her smoky green eyes full of a worry that always seemed to orbit him. "Someone who can teach him control. You’re a Tier-One. You could...."

"He’s at the Lyceum now, isn’t he?" Kayla’s words came fast, clipped, each syllable a door slamming shut. "Surrounded by the best instructors this sector has to offer. He’ll learn everything he needs there...." She continued, "Not that I would even if I was his only hope, but he doesn’t need my help." Content orıginally comes from ????????????????????⟡????????????????⟡????????????

"The best instructors aren’t his family." Ysmeine’s voice dropped, softened. "They won’t understand his limits. His potential. You could accelerate his training. Show him what’s possible."

A laugh escaped Kayla’s throat harsh, airless, completely devoid of humor. "And why would I do that? So he can become an even bigger disruption than he already is?" Her smoky green eyes hardened, the pupils contracting slightly. "No. Let the academy handle him. It’s their problem now."

She turned again, took three strides. Her boot heels clicked sharply against the floor: click, click, click....

She stopped.

Her head tilted, just slightly. Moonlight filtered through the high corridor windows, cutting silver bars across the polished floor. The house was quiet. The kind of quiet that pressed against eardrums.

Too quiet.

"Speaking of their problem." Her voice came out carefully neutral, stripped of inflection. She glanced at the chrono-display embedded in the wall its pale blue digits reading 22:47. Her back was still to Ysmeine. "Why isn’t he home yet? It’s late."

Ysmeine went absolutely still. Caught off guard by Kayla’s question. Did she really just ask about him?

Then, slowly, a smile spread across her face, warm, knowing, utterly delighted. It melted the worry from her features like frost under morning sun.

She studied the rigid line of her sister’s back, the way Kayla’s arms had crossed tightly over her chest, fingers gripping her own biceps.

A fortress of feigned indifference.

"Funny," Ysmeine said, her voice dropping to a low purr. "You noticed."

Kayla’s shoulders locked. Every muscle from her neck to her shoulder blades went taut.

Ysmeine took one deliberate step forward, her bare feet silent on the crystal. "For someone who claims she can’t stand the sight of him, you seem to be keeping a very close eye on his schedule."

Heat bloomed at the back of Kayla’s neck a faint flush creeping up from her collar, spreading like spilled wine across pale skin.

"Don’t be ridiculous." Kayla spun around, her ponytail whipping through the air. Her face was a carved mask of cold fury, jaw set, eyes narrowed but the blush on her cheeks was unmistakable. Pink. Hot. Betraying. "I just don’t want him causing trouble after dark. It reflects on this family. On you."

Her eyes, usually so cold, so assessing, calculating every angle, held something else now. Something wild. Defensive. Cornered.

It made her look startlingly vulnerable.

Ysmeine’s smile widened. She didn’t speak. Didn’t push. Just let her gaze rest on Kayla, soft and knowing, a silent acknowledgment of the truth her sister refused to admit even to herself.

"Of course, dear," Ysmeine murmured, her tone indulgent, almost motherly. "Just for the family."

Kayla’s jaw muscles flexed. Once. Twice. Her teeth ground together audibly.

"I have things to take care of." The words came out strangled, forced through a throat that had gone tight.

She turned.

The soft hiss of the entrance door opening sliced through the tension like a blade through silk.

Zaeryn stepped through, his new academy uniform dark and sleek in the dim corridor light black with silver accents that caught the moonlight.

Kayla froze mid-stride.

Her path intersected directly with his.

Her eyes locked onto him, staring at his face, travelling down the length of his uniform, how the fabric fit his shoulders, his torso, all the way down to his boots. Then back up again. Slow. Deliberate.

The look wasn’t her usual mask of pure contempt. It was something else entirely. A storm. Fury and frustration tangled with something she refused to name, something that made her breathing shallow.

It was the look of someone whose most fortified wall had just been breached from the inside.

For three long seconds, she just stared.

Then she exhaled sharp, almost a hiss through clenched teeth and pivoted on her heel. She stormed past him, so close her shoulder nearly brushed his. Her beautiful scent trailed in her wake.

No words. Not a single syllable.

Zaeryn didn’t acknowledge her. Didn’t turn his head as she passed. His gaze stayed fixed on Ysmeine at the end of the hall, his expression neutral, carefully blank.

He’d had enough of Kayla’s venom for one lifetime. Giving her a reaction was currency he was no longer willing to spend.

Ysmeine watched the entire exchange, her smile soft, thoughtful, tinged with something almost like sympathy.

"Welcome home, darling."

"Hey." He gestured with his chin down the now-empty corridor where Kayla had disappeared. "What’s with her? She looks even more ready to bite my head off than usual."

"Oh, don’t mind her." Ysmeine closed the distance between them in three gliding steps. Her fingers reached up to straighten his collar, smoothing the fabric, lingering against the material longer than necessary. "She’s just... worried about you."

The words were delivered with a perfect, innocent smile that held entire galaxies of mischief.

Zaeryn let out a short laugh genuine, disbelieving. "Yeah, right."

"Anyway." Ysmeine’s hand dropped from his collar but stayed on his shoulder. "How was your first day?"

"I’d say it went perfect." A smile broke across his face tired but genuine, lit from within.

Despite the negatives, like getting detention and fighting Leia, he was excited. So much that all he wanted now was to sleep and wake up in the morning to go back.

"Well then." Ysmeine’s arm slipped through his, guiding him gently down the corridor toward the sitting room. "Why don’t you tell me about your experience. All of it."