Chapter 13 - Guilt And Apologies

••• Seleste’s POV •••

The heavy, unyielding silence between Ezekiel and me had finally stretched past the point of endurance because was still avoiding me.

I told myself it didn’t matter. Maybe giving him space was better.

But I couldn’t keep ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in my chest. I had hurt him when he was only trying to help me.

I needed to apologize.

So, the moment our brutal evening training session concluded, I decided to fix it.

I waited until the chaotic noise of the training ground had completely thinned out, watching from the shadows of the weapons locker until the crowded corridors were mostly empty. 

My heart was already beating fast as I walked toward the common room.

The common room was spacious and quiet, with heavy wooden tables and comfortable leather chairs arranged around the room.

When I crossed the threshold, I found him immediately. Ezekiel was sitting entirely alone at a corner table far from the hearth, a heavy academy ledger open in front of him, his broad shoulders squared and his back turned completely toward the double doors.

I paused for a single second, my hand tightening around the strap of my training bag as a wave of intense hesitation threatened to freeze my boots to the floorboards. 

The words of apology I had meticulously practiced in my head all afternoon were suddenly sticking like dry ash in my throat. 

How exactly did a boy apologize to another boy without looking weak? 

How would Aiden bridge a gap that Seleste had accidentally blasted open?

I forced my feet to move before I could lose my nerve, crossing the empty room with deliberate, unrefined steps. 

I didn't want to startle his alpha instincts, so I intentionally let my boots click loudly against the stone tiles until I reached his table. 

Without waiting for a formal invitation, I slid onto the heavy wooden bench directly across from him.

Ezekiel didn't look up immediately. His sharp jaw was clenched tightly, his eyes remaining locked on the text of his ledger, but the sudden, rigid stillness in his shoulders told me he was acutely aware of my presence. 

The intense, clean scent of his wolf profile—like cold mountain pine and crisp winter frost—washed over the table, setting off a quiet, defensive alarm inside my subconscious.

“Ezekiel,” I began, my voice dropping into that forced, slightly raspy register I used to play the part of a boy. It sounded rougher than usual, tight with an anxiety I couldn't entirely mask. “Look, we need to talk. This silent routine is getting ridiculous.”

He slowly closed his ledger with a deliberate, soft thud, his movements painfully controlled. When he finally lifted his head, his striking silver eyes cut across the table.

His expression was guarded, and he wouldn’t look directly at me.

“I don't have anything to say to you, Aiden,” he replied, his deep voice smooth, flat, and entirely devoid of the warmth he usually possessed. “You made your boundaries perfectly clear a few nights ago. I can take a hint.”

The defensive bite in his tone stung more than I cared to admit, but I forced my rising irritation down, swallowing my pride. 

“My reaction that night… it wasn’t because I didn’t trust you,” I said. “I was scared. I felt vulnerable, and I didn’t know how to handle it.”

I took a breath.

“This place is new to me. Everything is new to me. I don’t know anyone here, and I don’t know who I can trust. When you tried to help me, I panicked.”

Ezekiel stayed quiet.

“I’m not used to accepting help from people,” I continued. “After my mother died, I had to learn to take care of myself. I got used to dealing with everything alone.”

Ezekiel didn't lean back, nor did he offer a single nod of understanding. He simply stared at his hands, his silver eyes flashing with a hidden, complex emotion that I couldn't quite analyze.

“You treated me like I was the threat,” he muttered softly, his jaw tensing as his thumb traced the edge of his closed ledger. “I was just trying to keep my roommate from bleeding out on the floorboards, and you snapped at me like I was trying to slit your throat.”

A wave of profound guilt churned violently in my stomach. Freya stirred in the back of my mind, letting out a soft whimper of agreement that I didn't have the energy to fight off. 

He was right. He had shown me nothing but genuine, protective kindness since the day I arrived, and I had answered his loyalty with an aggressive attack to protect a secret he didn't even know existed.

“I know. And I’m truly sorry for that,” I confessed, letting my shoulders drop slightly. “You were only trying to help me, and I treated you like you were my enemy.”

I took a breath before continuing.

“Ever since I came to Ravenwood, I’ve been trying to handle everything on my own. I thought that was the only way I could survive here.”

As the words slipped past my lips, I noticed a sudden, subtle shift in his posture. 

His shoulders relaxed a little, and this time, he finally looked at me.

“I know what it’s like to feel entirely alone in a crowd,” I continued softly, my voice dropping lower as I stared down at the grain of the wood. 

“Ever since I walked through the iron gates of Ravenwood, I’ve felt completely isolated. Overwhelmed. Like a single wrong step will turn me into a target for psychos like Tristan. When you tried to touch my shoulder last night, I just panicked. My instincts took over, and I lashed out at the wrong person.”

I lifted my head, looking directly into his silver eyes, forcing my blue-tinted gaze to remain unwavering. 

“I wanted to say thank you, Ezekiel. Thank you for actually trying to clean my wounds yesterday. You were just being a good roommate. A good friend. And I was a complete bastard to you.”

The sincerity in my apology seemed to break through the wall between us.

Ezekiel let out a long breath and finally relaxed against his chair. The tension in his shoulders eased, and his expression softened.

“You’re an incredibly difficult guy to look out for, you know that, Aiden?” he murmured, a faint smile finally appearing at the corner of his lips.

“Most freshmen are practically begging for an alliance with a top-rank student. But you? You fight me every single step of the way.”

“Maybe I just happen to like a challenge,” I drawled back, matching his tone, letting a hint of my usual sassy confidence return to the table.

He let out a soft, genuine chuckle, shaking his head as he ran a broad hand through his dark hair. 

“Yeah, I’ve noticed. Tristan certainly noticed it during the archery drills today too. You practically turned into a completely different person the second you picked up that bow.”

My muscles instantly locked up, a silent alarm blazing inside my head at the mention of the target field. 

I forced my expression to remain entirely neutral, keeping my mental walls firmly locked so Freya wouldn't leak our panic through the bond. 

“Like I told the twin, it was just dumb luck,” I lied smoothly, offering a casual wave of my hand. “I literally closed my eyes and prayed to the Goddess. I’m utterly useless with a sword; I needed a win.”

Ezekiel studied my face for a long, quiet moment, his silver eyes narrowing slightly with a curious, analytical intensity that made my pulse race a little faster. He didn't push the topic, but I could tell he was storing the anomaly away in his mind.

Instead of interrogating me, he shifted the conversation, steering us into safer, common ground. 

We spent the next hour talking quietly about the crushing, ridiculous pressures of academy life, swapping complaints about the grueling physical endurance training and the demanding, borderline psychotic standards of the senior instructors. 

We laughed softly about how clumsy the other Alpha heirs looked during the morning sword formations, finding a strange comfort in our shared exhaustion.

For the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe normally around him.

As we stood up from the wooden bench to gather our study ledgers and walk back toward our quarters together, I noticed that his silver eyes were still critically watching my movements. 

He was looking at the way I carried my shoulders, the way I stepped across the room, his analytical alpha gaze searching for the missing pieces of a puzzle he couldn't quite see.

But then, just as we reached the heavy double doors, he suddenly smiled, the warmth returning to his features, and said, “You can call me Zeke from now on.”