Compelled Secrets and Jaxon's Bold Advance

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ronan insisted, his face contorting with what looked like physical pain.

I shut off the shower and stepped back into the room, towel forgotten. Something was seriously wrong.

"Ro?" I rushed to his side as he doubled over, clutching his throat.

"I... can't..." he gasped, face reddening with effort.

Rhys put a hand on Ronan's shoulder, his expression grim. "Don't try to fight it. Stop trying to speak."

Ronan nodded weakly, collapsing onto the edge of the bed. Whatever was happening seemed to ease as soon as he stopped attempting to talk.

"What's happening to him?" I demanded, kneeling in front of Ronan and taking his hands in mine. They were ice cold.

Rhys's jaw clenched. "Compulsion. Someone's put a blocking spell on him—a serious one."

My blood ran cold. "Compulsion? You mean someone's magically preventing him from talking about... whatever we just asked?"

"About Vance," Rhys confirmed quietly. "Someone doesn't want him telling us what he knows about the headmaster."

Ronan nodded miserably, color slowly returning to his face.

I felt sick. "Who would do that? And why? Is he in danger?"

"The compulsion itself isn't dangerous if he stops fighting it," Rhys explained, sitting beside Ronan and rubbing circles on his back. "But whoever placed it..." He shook his head. "They're powerful. And they've got something to hide."

I remembered Mr. Vance's words about my biological father using compulsion on my mother. A chill ran through me.

"Ro," I said carefully, "can you nod or shake your head? Was it Mr. Vance who did this to you?"

Ronan started to nod, then grimaced in pain.

"Stop," Rhys said quickly. "The compulsion extends to any form of confirmation. Clever." His eyes narrowed. "We need to be careful here. Very careful."

Ronan reached for a notebook on the nightstand and started to write, but his hand seized up, pen dropping to the floor.

"Shit," Rhys muttered. "It's comprehensive."

I stood up, pacing the room. "What about the others? Silas and Jaxon—could they be compelled too?"

"It's possible," Rhys said grimly. "Maybe even likely."

Ronan looked between us, frustration clear on his face. He pointed to his head.

"Your thoughts? You want us to try telepathy?" I asked.

He nodded eagerly, then winced again.

"Even that's blocked," Rhys sighed. "Whoever did this didn't leave any loopholes."

I sat back down beside Ronan, pulling him into a hug. "I'm so sorry. This is awful."

"We need to be strategic," Rhys said, lowering his voice even further. "If someone's listening—and we have to assume they might be—we can't let on that we know about the compulsion."

"So we just... pretend everything's normal?" I whispered.

"For now." Rhys nodded. "Until we figure out who we can trust. Ro, you should lie down. Fighting compulsion is exhausting."

Ronan didn't argue, allowing me to help him under the covers. His eyes were already drooping.

"What if Silas and Jaxon come back?" I asked Rhys once Ronan seemed to be asleep.

"We'll need a cover story."

As if on cue, the apartment door opened. Rhys's eyes widened. "Quick," he whispered, "get on the bed with Ro."

"What?"

"Trust me." He practically pushed me onto the bed beside Ronan's sleeping form and then climbed on my other side.

"What are you—" I started to ask, but he cut me off by brushing his lips against my ear.

"We were having a threesome," he whispered. "Ro got... overwhelmed and fell asleep."

My cheeks flamed. "Are you serious?"

"Got a better idea?" he hissed as footsteps approached the bedroom door.

The door swung open, revealing Silas with an armful of books. He froze at the sight of the three of us on the bed.

"Oh!" Silas's eyes went wide. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize—"

"It's okay," Rhys said smoothly, sitting up with a lazy grin. "We wore Ro out. Poor guy's not used to that much... attention."

I wanted to die of embarrassment but played along. "He was amazing, though," I added, hoping my face wasn't as red as it felt.

Silas adjusted his glasses, clearly flustered. "I'll just... give you guys some privacy." He backed out of the room, closing the door behind him.

As soon as he was gone, I buried my face in a pillow. "That was mortifying."

"But effective," Rhys whispered. "Now we need to get to the bathroom. We need to talk privately."

I followed him to the en-suite bathroom, and he turned on the shower again before speaking.

"Listen," he said quietly, "one thing's clear—someone powerful doesn't want us knowing certain information. Information Ro has, and possibly Silas and Jaxon too."

"Do you think Jaxon knows he's been compelled?" I asked.

"If he does, he hasn't said anything. But Jaxon's an empath, right? He'd be more sensitive to magical interference."

I nodded. "So what's our next move?"

Before Rhys could answer, the bathroom door flew open. Jaxon stood there, eyes blazing, looking like murder incarnate.

"What the fuck is going on?" he demanded. "Where's Ro?"

I stepped forward. "Jaxon, he's fine, he's just—"

"Don't lie to me." His voice was deadly quiet. "I can feel his distress from across campus. What did you do to him?"

"We didn't do anything," Rhys said calmly. "He's sleeping."

Jaxon's eyes narrowed. "Bullshit. And what's with the shower? Trying to hide your conversation?" He stepped closer, crowding into my space. "Tell me the truth. Now."

I met his gaze without flinching. "We think someone's placed compulsion on Ronan. And possibly you and Silas too."

Rhys made a strangled sound of protest, but it was too late.

To my surprise, Jaxon didn't explode. He went very still. "What kind of compulsion?"

"The kind that prevents him from sharing certain information," I said carefully. "About Mr. Vance."

Something flickered across Jaxon's face—recognition, maybe?

"Did you know?" I pressed. "Can you feel it inside you?"

Jaxon's jaw worked. "I've felt... resistance. When certain topics come up."

"Like what?" Rhys asked.

Jaxon immediately grimaced, his hand going to his throat in a perfect mirror of Ronan's earlier reaction.

"Don't answer that," I said quickly. "Don't fight it."

His eyes met mine, filled with rage and something else—fear.

"Someone's controlling us," he said through gritted teeth. "Using us."

"Like your father tried to," I said softly.

Jaxon flinched as if I'd slapped him. "Don't bring him into this."

"I'm sorry," I said, "but it matters. This is about control, Jaxon. Someone's trying to control you, control all of us."

"And you think it's Vance," Jaxon stated flatly.

"We don't know for sure," Rhys interjected. "But whoever it is is powerful."

Jaxon paced the small bathroom like a caged animal. "Why would you and Rhys be exempt? Why just me, Ro, and presumably Silas?"

It was a good question. "Maybe we're not exempt," I suggested. "Maybe we just don't know what we don't know."

"Or maybe," Rhys said thoughtfully, "they're targeting the bonds who've been here longer. The ones who might have information Hazel and I wouldn't possess."

Jaxon stopped pacing, his gaze drilling into me. "What were you two really doing in here? And what happened to Ro?"

"He tried to tell us something about Vance, and it hurt him," I explained. "We put him to bed. Then we came in here to talk privately."

"And the threesome story?"

I felt my face heat up again. "Rhys's brilliant cover story."

A strange emotion flickered across Jaxon's face. Was that... jealousy?

"You're jealous," I said, the realization dawning. "Of me and Rhys with Ronan."

"Don't be ridiculous," Jaxon snapped, but the flush creeping up his neck told a different story.

"Or is it me you're jealous of?" I continued, a hunch forming. "Are you jealous that I was with Rhys and Ronan instead of you?"

"Hazel," Rhys warned, but I pressed on.

"Or that I was with Ronan instead of you being with him?" I watched Jaxon's reaction carefully.

His nostrils flared. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I think I do," I said softly. "I think you care about Rhys. A lot. And maybe Ronan too."

"So what if I do?" he growled. "It doesn't matter. Nothing matters except staying alive and keeping that psychopath of a father away from all of you."

"He can't hurt you anymore, Jax," Rhys said gently, stepping closer to him. "Victor has no power here."

"You don't know him," Jaxon whispered, his voice breaking slightly. "He always comes back. Always."

I reached out, touching his arm lightly. "We won't let him. You're not alone anymore."

Something in Jaxon seemed to break at my words. In a flash of movement that took both Rhys and me by surprise, Jaxon grabbed Rhys by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the bathroom wall.

I started to intervene, thinking he was attacking Rhys, when I realized—Jaxon was kissing him. Fiercely, desperately, with all the pent-up emotion he usually kept locked away.

Rhys, after a moment of shock, was kissing him back just as passionately.