Renee Arcadia Nosfera didn’t hide her love.

When Damien kissed her in the corridor between classes, she kissed him back. When he wrapped an arm around her shoulder during their walks to the upper courtyard, she leaned into him without hesitation. She didn’t whisper. She didn’t flinch.

She had chosen him long before fate ever got involved.

And she didn’t regret it.

Still—

It was late in the day when she saw him.

Again.

Sylus.

Across the long stretch of the courtyard between the Combat Wing and the High Arcanum Library, just beyond the trimmed hedges and patterned stone. He stood for a heartbeat longer than necessary — watching them.

His face was unreadable at first. His posture perfect, composed. But when he turned to walk away…

She caught it.

A shift in the jaw.

A flicker in the eyes.

He looked like someone carrying loss.

Not envy. Not anger.

Grief.

It wasn’t the first time.

She’d caught him before — a glance during a lesson, a too-long silence in the sparring chamber, a look over his shoulder when he thought no one was watching.

But today?

Today it settled into her chest like a bruise.

“Ree?” Damien’s voice broke the quiet as they walked. “You spaced.”

Renee blinked, glanced up at him. “Sorry. Just thinking.”

He frowned, eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re sad.”

“I’m not,” she lied gently.

Damien stopped walking and turned toward her fully, arms still casually draped over her waist.

“I know that face. That’s your soft-angry face.”

She laughed softly. “Soft-angry?”

“Yeah,” he said, lowering his head toward hers. “The one where your lips are still smiling, but your eyes are somewhere else.”

Renee tilted her chin. “It’s nothing of importance.”

“Still something,” Damien said. “Is it school?”

She shook her head.

“Something I did?”

“No.”

He studied her. “Then what—?”

Renee’s gaze flicked behind him — unintentionally.

Just for a second.

Back toward the archway where Sylus had been standing.

But he was already gone.

Like smoke.

Damien’s body went still against hers.

Then he said, low and even, “Should I be worried?”

She met his eyes — and for the first time, hesitated.

But only a beat.

Then she smiled, slow and steady.

“No,” she said.

She leaned in, kissed him — slow, deliberate — letting her fingers trace the side of his neck, knowing exactly how to draw his mind into her orbit again.

Damien didn’t push further.

But he wasn’t blind.

As they walked toward their residence wing, his hand slid into hers.

And even though she smiled, Renee glanced over her shoulder once more.

Not to search for Sylus.

Not consciously.

But just to check.

Just to see.

What kind of man looks at someone like that—

Like he’s already lost her before he ever had the chance to speak?

And why, gods help her…

Did that look hurt?

***

Sirius Drakareth Vezmera habitually showed up when people didn’t want him to.

This explained why Sylus sighed when he heard his brother’s boots in the hallway before the knock came.

“Don’t.”

The door opened anyway.

“I haven’t said anything yet,” Sirius replied, stepping into the small instructor’s suite Sylus had been assigned during his time in Arcadia.

“You’re thinking loudly,” Sylus muttered, half-draped on the chair near the window, jacket tossed across the back, shirt sleeves rolled up. He looked like a man who hadn’t slept, shaved, and stopped grinding his teeth in three days.

Sirius kicked the door shut with his heel, crossed to the desk, and dropped opposite his brother's seat.

“So?” he asked, folding his arms. “How’s the mission going?”

Sylus gave a humorless laugh. “Which part?”

“The one where you get close to your mate. You know. The goal.”

Sylus let his head fall back against the chair with a hollow thud.

“I couldn’t fail more miserably if I tried.”

Sirius frowned. “That bad?”

Sylus exhaled slowly. “I think she likes me less now than when I first walked into her life. She barely looks at me. When she does, she’s checking to ensure I’m still ruining her day.”

“Damn.”

Sylus closed his eyes for a beat. “And the worst part? I know it’s not her fault.”

There was a pause.

Then he said, quieter, “It’s him.”

Sirius didn’t need clarification. “Damien.”

Sylus nodded, jaw tightening. “They’re always together. He touches her like she’s his pulse. She lets him. They don’t even think about it. It’s just there.”

He sat forward suddenly, restless. “And when they whisper things to each other… when she laughs, soft, under her breath, like she’s letting him in on a secret—”

He cut off, fingers tightening around the armrest.

“I hear it, Sirius. Every word. Every sound. I hear her breath change when he leans in. I hear the way she smiles when he says her name. I wish I didn’t.”

“You can’t turn off dragon hearing,” Sirius said gently.

“I wish I could,” Sylus muttered.

Sirius studied him for a moment. “Look, I know it hurts. But you’ve got to stop acting like a rejected groom.”

Sylus shot him a sharp look. “What the hell do you want me to do?”

“Talk to her,” Sirius said. “Alone. Not as a professor. Not as someone sulking behind lecture podiums. You. Her mate. The man who needs to be seen.”

Sylus didn’t answer.

Sirius leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

“You’re used to women who come to you. Who fights for your attention? You’ve never had to work for it.”

“I’m not ashamed of that.”

“You shouldn’t be,” Sirius agreed. “But this isn’t that. Renee is not a palace flirt. She won’t toss herself into your bed because your dragon called dibs.”

Sylus scoffed but quietly.

Sirius continued. “You’re trying to approach her like she’s one of them — and you spiral every time she doesn’t respond the way you’re used to.”

“I don’t spiral,” Sylus said, defensive.

“Snapping clipboards? Cutting training sessions early? Glaring at her like she murdered your ego?”

“…I spiral a little.”

Sirius grinned. “A little.”

Silence stretched between them.

Then Sirius asked, gentler now, “Have you ever tried to talk to her one-on-one? Just once?”

Sylus looked away.

“She has Damien.”

“She’s allowed to,” Sirius said. “But that doesn’t mean you’re forbidden. She’s not unreachable. She’s just guarded. She already has someone. So if you want a place beside her, you must show her there’s room for another.”

Sylus was quiet.

Then he said, “What if she says no?”

Sirius shrugged. “Then you’ll have said something real. And for once in your life, Sylus Drakareth Vezmera will have meant something more than charm and reputation.”

That stung.

But Sylus nodded.

“…Okay.”

Sirius stood, ruffled his brother’s already-mussed hair like they were kids again, and grinned.

“There he is. Go get rejected with dignity, brother.”

Sylus groaned.

But he didn’t tell him to shut up.