Weaver

Present day...

Kaz had learned a lot in the past few days about the girl with the golden eyes.

Her Trait was called Dreamer, and her innate ability bore the same name. It allowed her to dream of anything and everything—memories, possibilities, truths that hadn't yet happened. One night, after leaving her first Rift, Sophie had been consumed with anxiety about Eden. That night, she dreamed of what would unfold within it.

And not just vague impressions or symbols.

She saw Eden—what would happen, who would survive, and how events might play out. It was detailed, disturbing, and eerily real.

Of course, it could've all been in her head. A fantasy. So, she had to test her hypothesis. That's why she sought out Kaz. To see if her dreams matched the truth—to prove that what she saw wasn't imagination.

And when Kaz had gone on guard after revealing his Trait, she knew then—everything she'd dreamed could come true.

In her dreams, she'd seen countless ways to survive the Rift. Some ended in blood. Others in silence. But the best paths—the ones with the highest chance of success—always had one thing in common: she needed to travel with Kaz and Axion.

That's why she came to him. That's why she was so frustratingly vague with her answers.

Sophie only told Kaz what he needed to know, and nothing more. It infuriated him. The way she danced around the truth, always one step ahead, like she was following a script only she could see.

He found himself constantly thinking, Prophets are so damn annoying.

Then again, Sophie wasn't a prophet.

Her second innate ability was called Dreamer's Soul. It allowed her to dream not just about events, but about the people around her—their Traits, Features, even the Talismans they carried. Through this ability, she could see abilities, understand them, and even anticipate how they would evolve.

That's what made her so dangerous.

Not just the knowledge—but the restraint.

Because she also knew about Dareth.

Kaz's alter ego. The thing hiding behind his True Name.

And still, she chose not to say it.

Not yet.

By the time Sophie finally said something to snap him out of his thoughts, Kaz had already been hit in the head.

With a book.

He blinked, startled, then looked up—only to be met with the sight of a man so striking it made him forget the pain for a moment.

Ivory skin, hair tied back into a loose ponytail, a black button-down worn open with no undershirt, and slim glasses perched perfectly on the bridge of his nose. The man stood far too close, and when Kaz looked into his eyes—dark, deep, bottomless—he swore they were voids that might swallow him whole.

Damn his good looks, Kaz thought bitterly, instinctively taking a step back.

The man—Weaver—was like a walking contradiction. Cool but intense, elegant but casual. Even his voice matched: calm, smooth, deep—but not too deep. Just deep enough to make you listen.

"Kaz," Weaver said, voice level and unbothered, "pay attention. You're my favorite student. I'd hate to see you walk into a door."

Even his voice sounded nice. Damn this man, Kaz thought bitterly.

Around them, thin, glowing strings shimmered into view, wrapping around the floating books like puppet threads. The books drifted through the air with graceful precision, gliding across the room and into Weaver's waiting hands.

Without missing a beat, he handed one to Kaz, then the other to Sophie.

Kaz glanced at Sophie, hoping to catch some flicker of surprise or admiration on her face.

Nothing.

She looked completely unimpressed.

She muttered under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear:"I've seen cuter."

Kaz didn't know whether to feel validated or offended.

On one hand, Kaz thought, Weaver is way too good-looking. On the other... if Sophie didn't think so, she must have ridiculously high standards.

He wasn't sure if that made him feel better or worse.

The two of them walked to their desks and sat down. Sophie leaned toward him slightly, her voice light—but laced with that unsettling undertone she always carried.

"You should slick back your curly hair," she said sweetly, blinking her golden eyes in mock innocence, like she was trying to seem cute.

Kaz stiffened.

A cold chill ran down his spine—not because of her suggestion, but because of what it implied.

Slicked back curls?

He'd look too much like Dareth.

"Hell no," Kaz muttered, eyes narrowing.

Sophie giggled but didn't push. She didn't have to. The way she looked at him said enough:She knew exactly why he said no.

It was obvious Sophie was just messing with him. The way her eyes glinted, the barely-there smile tugging at her lips—she knew exactly what buttons to push.

Before Kaz could say anything else, Weaver's voice interrupted them.

He was already at his desk, somehow having moved there without either of them noticing.

"Kaz," he said smoothly, folding his hands together. "Do you have the item I requested?"

Kaz nodded and held out his hand.

A soft purple glow pulsed in his palm as an object began to take shape—coalescing from light and memory. A golden medallion, shaped like a scorpion. Its craftsmanship was striking… but when turned upside down, the shape twisted. It resembled a closed eye.

The Eyeles.

A talisman he'd earned during his first rift. It could sense nearby creatures—and more importantly, gauge the level of their bloodlust. Aberration rank, not the strongest, but undeniably useful. he has gotten it from the curse when the scorpion beast died

"Here you go, Mr... uh... Weaver," Kaz said, his voice trailing off as he looked away, offering the talisman with a touch of reluctance.

Weaver raised an eyebrow, amused. His fingers brushed against Kaz's as he took the talisman, and the glow faded as it left Kaz's hand.

Sophie leaned slightly toward Kaz and whispered out of the corner of her mouth, "Was that a blush? Wow. And I thought I was dramatic."

Kaz didn't respond.

He just stared straight ahead, jaw clenched, praying for the bell to ring.

But it never would.

One of the downsides of night classes: the bell didn't ring.