7. Declan

Chapter 7

Declan

T he moon loomed overhead, illuminating the courtyard. It was peaceful here—silent, save for the rustle of leaves and the distant hum of magic weaving through the air.

Tonight, that tranquility felt more like a shroud pressing down on me, making it hard to breathe.

I sat beneath my great oak tree. That’s how I thought of it. The gnarled old thing had propped me up for most of the thirteen years I’d lived within the Mages’ walls. It was familiar. It was steady. It never looked at me funny or snickered behind my back. My oak was true.

My back rested against the great trunk as I stared up at stars that sparkled like diamonds scattered across velvet. Despite what I’d told Keelan, I didn’t have any homework begging for attention. The Mages had gone light on us lately.

I just wanted to be alone.

Keelan’s visit had stirred something inside me, a mixture of admiration and jealousy that twisted in my chest like a thorn. I wanted to be proud of him. No, I was proud of him. He had worked his arse off and was a Constable now, tasked with real cases, making a name for himself in a world where recognition clung to one’s ancestry rather than his talent.

And yet, as he spoke of his investigation with a familiar spark in his eyes, I couldn’t share his excitement. I couldn’t feel the thrill of the hunt I knew lived within him. I couldn’t find it inside myself to care.

All I felt was gnawing emptiness.

I tried to shake off those thoughts, focusing instead on the stories I had read earlier in the evening. The Origins of Magic class was one I’d delayed since my early years in the guild but could no longer shove aside. As a Mute orphan, I couldn’t fathom why I needed to know about how magic began and evolved, but the Mages demanded I learn. So, I spent hours buried in ancient texts, poring over tales of the original ten Mages, their triumphs and their failures. Those Mages had forged the very foundations of our world, wielding power that was awe-inspiring and terrifying at once. Their secrets were woven into the fabric of our society, into the very gold of our blasted collars, yet their true purpose remained hidden from those of us who lacked the Gift.

I flipped through the pages of a book, letting the scent of aged parchment fill my nostrils, grounding me. My studies at the guild would never lead me to the kind of power those Mages had wielded. I would never wield any power that extended beyond a sword or bow.

My heart sank as I thought about how easily Keelan had found his path forward. He had always been ambitious, the one who followed his dreams while I fumbled in the shadows, hoping to discover my own way.

I looked up to him. I respected him. Hells, I worshiped him.

I had all my life.

Now, that admiration was laced with bitterness.

“Why can’t I be like you?” I muttered to the stars, though I knew they were far too stubborn to answer. It was just me and the darkness.

It was always just me.

I picked at the grass, tearing off small blades and watching as they fell, unable to shake off the feeling that I was the one falling.

Something rustled in the distant darkness.

I turned my head.

There, in the shadows cast by a nearby tree, stood two boys. Their laughter echoed through the courtyard. One raised his hand and brushed hair from the other’s face.

The gesture was personal.

Intimate.

I shrank back against the tree, not wanting to be seen but unable to look away.

The laughter faded.

Replaced by murmurs that turned into something deeper, something more guttural, more primal.

It was then that I realized they weren’t just talking—they were entwined.

Their voices were a blend of hushed excitement and affection that sent a shiver up my spine. I strained to hear, curiosity searing through me, even as my heart clenched.

Rylan.

The boy whose back was pressed against a tree was Rylan. The other was a silhouette in the dimness of the night. I assumed he was the boy I’d seen him with before.

I snuck a peek around my oak. The moon behind, their lips were pressed together, their fingers tracing lines on each other’s faces.

I tried to move, to turn, to do anything but stare.

But I couldn’t breathe, much less look away.

I wanted to see.

The guild frowned upon relationships between students. We were here to study magic, not each other.

And yet, in that moment, it felt like a different kind of magic was unfolding before me—raw and unfiltered, primal—something I had never known existed.

Of course, I knew people fell in love.

But boys?

With each other?

Did their hearts not beat like any other?

Were their thoughts and feelings as entwined as their bodies?

Did their lips taste—

My mind wandered, imagining what it would be like to be so comfortable with someone, to lose myself in a moment of passion, to feel something real.

To feel so alive .

For a moment, I forgot my own insecurities.

I was captivated by the beauty of their connection.

Their laughter, their whispers, their gentle caresses.

Their kisses.

Spirits, they kissed like the world might end at any moment, as though these might be the last kisses they ever felt against their lips.

Rylan tipped his head back and laughed.

The other boy dove in, nipping his neck, then licking upward until his tongue reentered Rylan’s mouth.

I wanted to feel that tongue.

But did I want any tongue? Was I captivated because of the love on display or . . . because they were two boys?

I’d never liked a boy that way.

Had I?

I couldn’t remember. I couldn’t think. Breathing was still an effort.

My world had shrunk to the courtyard where two boys couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t kiss enough, couldn’t feel each other enough.

They were so vibrant and filled with joy.

How was that possible? How could anyone smile so wide it hurt? That’s how Rylan smiled when that other boy appeared.

Why couldn’t I smile like that?

Where had my joy gone?

What was wrong with me?

And why was I so fascinated by their embrace?

Their laughter grew more daring, their hands vanishing beneath tunics and trousers.

Heat rose to my cheeks.

A mix of embarrassment and intrigue flooded my senses.

I knew I should leave, should escape back into my books where I could hide from the realities of my loneliness, but something rooted me to the spot.

Curiosity?

A lewd voyeurism?

A yearning to understand what it meant to feel alive?

The moment felt surreal.

For the first time in my life, I acknowledged my own desires. I saw the boys, their touches and kisses. I listened to their tender words and low pleasures. I felt their passion from across the yard.

My senses battered, I found myself grappling with feelings I couldn’t begin to comprehend, feelings I’d never known lived within me.

Feelings that terrified me to my core.

I wanted to be a part of that, whatever it was.

I wanted to understand what it meant to be desired, to be wanted, to be loved.

Yet, all I could do was watch from the shadows.

The boys drew closer, soft breaths growing louder, their lips pressing, tongues teasing.

Sweat beaded across my neck and forehead as my heart began to race.

Then something stirred in my pants, and I had to shift my legs.

I’d never imagined an intimacy that felt forbidden yet undeniably beautiful.

But here it was, grasping and clinging and pressing before me.

The moment didn’t last long.

The boys pulled apart.

“Come to my room,” Rylan’s voice teased my ears. I craned around the tree, desperate to hear.

“Are you sure? What if—”

Rylan silenced his friend with a kiss. He gripped his head in both hands and held him there, held them together, until I wondered how they were going to breathe. When they pulled back, all doubt had fled. Rylan laced his fingers with his companion, and they strode from the tree toward the students’ living quarters.

My heart lurched.

They couldn’t leave.

I wanted to see them.

I needed to see them.

They vanished into the shadows, hushed laughter trailing behind them as they hurried away, leaving me alone once more.

The night felt colder, the air thick. I had to remember to breathe. Sweat dripped into my eyes.

My pants felt tight as the tickling of a thousand feathers teased what stood erect within.

I slid down against the tree, the weight of what I had just witnessed settling in my gut. The yard was empty, the night quiet.

I reached inside my pants. My cock twitched before I even touched it. It throbbed, so hard, so full. What would I do if Rylan held my face like that? Would I let him kiss me? Would I want his hands on me, his skin pressed against mine? Would I want more?

My head leaked into my hand as I stroked myself.

Breaths became ragged. My skin pimpled.

An owl hooted in the distance.

A wolf’s howl echoed in the distant mountains.

My blood raged.

I wanted—

What did I want?

Did I even know?

I pulled my hand free, wiping it clean on my trousers, then buried my face in my hands. The hot sting of tears pricked at my eyes.

I was so lost.

Keelan had his path. Rylan knew what—and who—he wanted. I was a mere echo of the boy I used to be.

The ache of loneliness seeped into my bones.

No matter how hard I tried to fit in, I would always be different.

In the quiet of the night, beneath stars that mocked me with their brilliance, I stood, wiping the remnants of my tears.

I would not let them control me.

I would find my own way, even if it meant carving a path that led me far from everything—and everyone—I had ever known.

As I made my way back inside, I realized the journey ahead would be anything but easy. I was determined to uncover who I was beneath the weight of my insecurities, to find a way to shine in a world that often felt dark and unforgiving.

And maybe, just maybe, I could find my place alongside Keelan, even if that meant walking a different path.