STOLEN BY THE MATE I DIDN'T WANT
When the woman left, Nessa did not return to her desk.
She turned it sideways.
Made space
And when someone asked where to file a complaint, she said, “Sit down. Tell me what you need.”
High above the Old Districts, Jorin Ashfall balanced on a rooftop beam, knees trembling as sweat stung his eyes. The charm he was weaving had no approved structure—just threadbare magic, borrowed focus, and three people holding anchor points with nothing but belief and stubbornness.
“This shouldn’t work,” he muttered, fingers shaking as the sigil bent into a shape no academy would have sanctioned.
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