Celeste barely slept that night. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Jase—standing in the alley, calm and unshakable, the night seeming to bend around him like it didn't dare challenge him. She saw the way he had lifted his hand, how effortlessly he had pinned that man against the wall with nothing but the sheer weight of his power, his eyes cold, unreadable, terrifyingly controlled. She'd heard the stories growing up—about the power of the Luminaries, their strength, their control. She'd even seen glimpses from afar. But never like this. Never up close. And never because of her.
That was what unsettled her most.
The memory kept looping in her mind—Jase turning to face her afterward, his eyes meeting hers with something she couldn't name. It had sent a strange shiver through her.
He hadn't looked at her like she was just another Mortalis, someone lucky he stepped in. He'd looked at her like he expected something from her.
Her blankets felt too warm, her body too restless. She tossed onto her side, then onto her back, then onto her stomach, but no position seemed to settle her. Her thoughts were too loud, drowning out the exhaustion she knew she should be feeling. She buried her face into her pillow, groaning softly, willing herself to stop thinking about it. This was ridiculous. Jase had only done what Luminaries were supposed to do—protect Mortalis. That was all. That had to be all. He had followed an instinct, an obligation, nothing more. And yet, deep down, something about that explanation didn't feel right.
Jase was a Luminary. She was just a Mortalis girl. Whatever this was—it wasn't real. It couldn't be.
And yet, no matter how many times she told herself that, no matter how hard she tried to quiet the thoughts spinning in her head, one truth remained—the one that unsettled her most.
Her heart wasn't listening.
*****
The next day, the moment Celeste stepped through the school gates, she felt it—an invisible weight settling over her, pressing against her skin like a heavy fog. Eyes. Watching her. Whispers. Following her. It wasn't the usual kind, the hushed remarks spoken just low enough for her to hear but never meant for her to acknowledge. This was different. The attention she had spent years avoiding, the carefully maintained distance between her and the rest of the school, had suddenly collapsed, leaving her exposed under the weight of a hundred lingering stares.
A slow, crawling unease crept up her spine as she kept walking, her grip tightening around the strap of her bag. Normally, students either ignored her or gossiped about her in passing, never bothering to include her in anything, never truly seeing her. But today, their gazes held something new—something that made her pulse quicken.
Curiosity. Speculation. And, strangest of all, envy.
A jolt of panic shot through her, and she hurried her steps, keeping her head down as she crossed the courtyard.
What was happening? Why were they all staring at her like that?
And then—like the universe had chosen that exact moment to answer—she saw him.
Jase.
He stood near the stone pillars at the center of the courtyard, arms crossed, his eyes as calm and sharp as ever, watching the world around him with the effortless confidence that belonged to Luminaries alone.
But he wasn't alone. Standing beside him were Lucas and Amy, their presence only making Celeste's stomach twist tighter. Amy's violet eyes flicked toward her with unmistakable interest, a quiet, knowing look hidden beneath the smooth mask of her expression. Lucas, on the other hand, had a grin stretched across his face, the kind that made Celeste want to turn around and walk the other way.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Why were they looking at her?
Panic rose in her chest. She quickly looked away and rushed inside before any of them could say a word. But she could still feel it—Jase's eyes on her back, Amy's quiet curiosity, and Lucas's amused grin following her as she slipped through the doors.
Outside, Lucas gave a low whistle, breaking the silence. "Laying low isn't really your style, huh?" he said with a grin, tossing Jase a playful glance, amusement clear in his voice.
Jase shot him a flat look. "What are you talking about?"
Lucas smirked, leaning casually against the pillar. "Come on, Jase. You saved her, didn't you? That Mortalis girl."
Jase's jaw tightened. "…So what?"
Amy tilted her head slightly, her voice calm but laced with something knowing. "You didn't just save her."
Jase stilled, his fingers twitching slightly at his sides.
Amy's gaze sharpened, her words slower this time, more deliberate. "You used your power on a Mortalis. For a Mortalis."
Lucas let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "I mean, it's not totally illegal or anything, but… it's definitely interesting." He shot Jase a sideways glance, his grin widening. "Especially for you."
Jase exhaled sharply, the irritation creeping into his expression. "So what if I did?"
Amy's violet eyes flickered with something unreadable, something thoughtful. Then she said the one thing that made both Jase and Lucas turn to her.
"I didn't see it."
Jase frowned. "So?"
Amy hesitated, her usual confidence flickering for just a moment before she met his gaze again. "That's never happened before."
Lucas arched a brow, folding his arms. "Wait, so you're saying you see all of Jase's future moments with his power?"
Amy shook her head. "Not all. But important ones. And for something like this, I should have seen at least a glimpse."
She turned fully to Jase now, her voice quieter, more intent. "But I didn't."
For the first time since last night, Jase wasn't sure what to say. Amy wasn't the type to exaggerate, nor was she the type to be wrong. Her visions were never unreliable, never unpredictable. If something was going to happen, she always saw it, no matter how minor. And yet, she hadn't seen him saving Celeste.
Lucas leaned in, his grin spreading like he'd just discovered the most entertaining secret.
"You sure you're not… into her?" he said, light and teasing, but with a knowing edge that made Jase's irritation spike.
Jase's jaw tightened. His golden eyes narrowed as he shot Lucas a sharp glare.
"Shut up."
The words were low and clipped, more warning than insult.
But Lucas, as always, didn't flinch. His smirk only grew as he raised his hands in mock surrender, shoulders shrugging like it was no big deal.
"Just saying, man. You know the rules. Be careful."
He said it like it was nothing, like it was just a fact—not a warning. And that only made Jase's annoyance burn hotter.
But Jase didn't respond. He let the silence hang, because his thoughts were already somewhere else.
What bothered him most wasn't what happened—it was what didn't.
Amy hadn't seen it coming. She hadn't sensed him using his power. She hadn't seen the attack on Celeste.
And that wasn't just strange—it was impossible.
Amy's visions weren't always perfect, but when something important happened—especially if it involved Jase—she usually saw at least a glimpse. A moment, a hint, something.
But last night, there was nothing. No sign. No warning.
Jase had just known.
He'd felt it—an instinct so strong and clear that he moved without thinking, following a pull that led him straight to Celeste, just seconds before she was dragged into that alley.
And that made him wonder.
Why had he felt it? Why had his gut twisted with such certainty before anything even happened? Why had his body moved with a rush of urgency he'd never known—pushing him to find her, to protect her—before he even realized she was in danger?
Luminaries didn't have instincts like that. Their powers were strong, yes, but they were based on control and precision, not sudden feelings or warnings.
But last night, Jase hadn't just reacted. He had known.
And that was what unsettled him most. Not just the impossibility of it—but the question that wouldn't leave him alone.
Why did he care?
He wasn't supposed to. Celeste was a Mortalis. Someone from a world that wasn't his, just like he didn't belong in hers. He wasn't supposed to feel anything when he looked at her. He wasn't supposed to remember the way her voice shook when she thanked him, or the way her breath caught when their eyes met in the dark.
He wasn't supposed to think about her when she wasn't there.
But he did. And that was a problem.
Jase clenched his jaw and let out a slow breath, trying to push the thoughts away before they could root themselves any deeper.
Still, he couldn't stop the pull in his chest—the urge to see her again. To talk to her.
****
Celeste sighed in relief as she slid into her seat in the lecture hall, her fingers gripping the edges of her desk as if grounding herself would make the day pass more smoothly. If she just kept her head down, avoided unnecessary attention, and ignored the lingering unease in her chest, everything would return to normal.
Or at least, that was what she hoped.
The sound of a chair scraping against the floor made her flinch. Before she could process what was happening, she glanced up—and froze.
Jase.
He slid into the seat beside her, completely at ease, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
A wave of silence rippled through the room, the soft rustling of notebooks and whispered conversations coming to a halt. Celeste didn't need to look around to know that every pair of eyes had turned toward them.
Her breath caught. What was he doing?
Her stomach tightened under the weight of everyone's stares, the shock in the room pressing down on her like something heavy. Jase, on the other hand, looked completely calm. He leaned back in his seat, stretched, and finally looked her way.
"Morning."
Celeste swallowed hard. Heat crept up her neck, her face warming far too quickly.
"…Morning," she murmured, forcing herself to look away, though the heat in her cheeks betrayed her.
Jase smirked, the slightest tilt of his lips making her pulse stutter in a way she didn't understand. "You look tense."
Of course she did. She wanted to snap at him, but she could barely string a thought together, not with half the class gawking at them like they had just witnessed something monumental. Instead, she turned her focus to the front, pretending that if she ignored him, maybe everyone else would, too.
Jase, however, didn't move.
And he didn't stop looking at her.
The weight of his gaze was impossible to ignore, too close, too warm, too distracting. No matter how hard she tried to focus on the professor's words, her mind kept drifting back to the presence beside her, the way his arm casually rested on the desk, how effortlessly he stole every bit of her attention.
Her heart thudded loudly in her chest, refusing to calm no matter how hard she tried to focus on the front of the class. The air felt thick, heavy with tension she couldn't shake, no matter how deeply she breathed. Her cheeks stayed warm, the heat only growing stronger with every second.
Then came the whispers—quiet at first, just a soft murmur—but they quickly grew louder, impossible to ignore.
"…Why is he sitting with her?"
"…Are they close?"
"…Did something happen?"
Celeste's hands curled into fists under her desk, her nails digging into her palms as she tried to block everything out. This wasn't normal. None of it was.
Jase was a Luminary. He belonged with his own kind—people who admired him, who fit into his world. He didn't sit with Mortalis. And he definitely didn't sit with her.
The weight of everyone's stares felt unbearable, pressing down on her like she couldn't breathe.
She gripped tighter, telling herself to let it go, to stop caring, to pretend the warmth in her skin wasn't real. But her body wouldn't listen. Her heart still raced. Her breath stayed uneven.
And then—despite everything, despite the voice in her head screaming not to—she turned her head just slightly, stealing a quick glance at him.
Jase was already watching her.
His golden eyes met hers—sharp, unreadable—like he'd been watching her long before she dared to look. Her breath caught, a soft gasp slipping out as time seemed to slow between them. There was something in his gaze that made her stomach twist, something she couldn't explain.
A wave of embarrassment rushed through her, and she quickly looked away, her face burning. She was sure he'd noticed—the way she tensed, how flustered she got the moment their eyes met.
And then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw it.
Jase's smirk deepened.
He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. And he didn't move either. He just stayed there, sitting beside her, completely at ease, completely unaffected, as if this was exactly where he had always been meant to be. As if he knew exactly what he was doing to her.
Celeste's heart wouldn't stop racing, and she had a horrible, sinking feeling that he was enjoying every second of it.