Beatrix stood at the center of the training field, her breath heavy as she stared at the swirling ribbons of crimson hanging in the air around her. Blood. Her blood. Controlled, shaped, and dangerously alive.
Focus.
She clenched her fists, her eyes narrowing. Her pulse quickened, and the ribbons spun faster, forming tight, sharp spirals around her wrists.
"Impressive, Tate," the instructor called out. "Now reel it in."
She exhaled slowly, feeling the blood respond to her heartbeat, pulling tighter. She willed it back into her veins—
Pain.
Her focus slipped. The blood shot outward, a whip-like arc that slashed through the air and struck—
A sharp cry.
Beatrix's eyes flew open, horror flooding her chest as a student nearby stumbled backward, clutching her arm. A thin line of crimson bloomed across her sleeve.
"Stop!" the instructor barked, his voice sharp as a blade.
Beatrix's breath caught. She snapped her fingers, the blood retracting instantly, but it was too late.
"God—" She ran forward. "I didn't mean—"
The girl winced, her hand pressed tightly to the shallow cut. "I'm fine," she muttered, trying to shake Beatrix off.
"You're bleeding."
"It's just a scratch."
"It could get worse," Beatrix said quickly. "Come on. The med bay isn't far."
The instructor waved them off without a second glance. "Take her. And next time, Tate, learn some control."
The walk to the school's medical wing was silent at first, tension hanging between them like an unspoken weight. Beatrix cast a sidelong glance at the girl, her stomach twisting with guilt.
"Sorry," she said softly.
"You already said that."
Beatrix hesitated. "Yeah, but I mean it."
The girl sighed, brushing her dark hair out of her face. "It happens. This is Ability Control class, not tea party etiquette."
Beatrix blinked, surprised by the dry humor. "I guess." She paused. "What's your name?"
"Valerie."
Beatrix offered a small, hesitant smile. "I'm Beatrix."
"I know." Valerie smirked faintly. "You're kind of infamous."
Beatrix's shoulders tensed. "Right. That."
Valerie shrugged. "Don't worry. I'm not one of the ones who cares about all that lab rat gossip."
Beatrix exhaled slowly, feeling a flicker of relief. "Thanks."
When they reached the med bay, the school's doctor—a no-nonsense woman with sharp eyes and an even sharper tongue—glanced up from her paperwork. She waved Valerie into a seat without so much as a greeting.
"Sit. Don't move. Don't talk."
Valerie grinned as she plopped down. "Charming as always, Doc."
Beatrix lingered by the door, guilt still gnawing at her as she watched the doctor clean the shallow cut with quick, precise movements.
"You should go," Valerie said.
"I feel bad."
"If it makes you feel better you look worse."
They shared a small, fleeting smile.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the darkened halls of the Academy, Vivienne waited.
Her breath came fast, shallow, as she paced the length of the empty classroom. Her hands shook as she clenched and unclenched her fists, her mind was foggy and restless.
The door creaked open.
Jason stepped inside, his expression calm, almost bored.
"Jason," she whispered, relief flooding her voice. She stepped toward him, her fingers twitching with need. "Please."
He closed the door behind him, leaning against it casually. "Vivienne," he murmured, his tone smooth, measured.
"I need—"
"I know what you need."
Her breath hitched. "Just a little. It's been—"
"Too long?" he finished, his eyes gleaming faintly in the dim light.
She nodded, swallowing hard.
Jason tilted his head, his smile thin. "You keep coming to me like this."
"Because you're the only one who can—"
"Fix you?"
The words hit like a slap. Vivienne flinched. "That's not fair."
Jason sighed, stepping closer. His hand brushed her cheek, gentle, almost tender. "It's not about fair, Viv."
Her eyes fluttered shut as warmth spread through her skin, her heartbeat slowing, her mind quieting—
"You forced me to do this," Jason whispered, his voice soft, almost regretful. "You made me use my power on you. I didn't want to."
Vivienne's eyes snapped open, her pulse quickening again, panic mixing with need. "No—"
"You pushed me." His fingers slid down her arm, his touch feather-light. "You wanted it."
Her breathing grew shallow.
"And now…" He stepped back, his expression cool, detached. "You have to deal with the consequences."
"Jason—"
He shook his head. "I'm done."
She froze.
"I'm bored, Vivienne." His voice was razor-sharp now, cutting cleanly through her desperation. "You are an experiment. I wanted to see how someone like you would react." He smirked faintly. "Guess I got my answer."
Her chest constricted, her vision blurring with sudden, burning tears.
"But if you want advice," Jason added, his tone light, almost kind, "don't go to the school doctor. You wouldn't want them asking questions. Expulsion's a bitch."
Vivienne's mouth went dry.
"The cravings will fade," Jason continued. "Eventually. A few days, maybe a week. You'll survive."
He turned toward the door, his hand resting on the knob. "See you around, Viv."
She didn't move.