Evelyn didn't see Alexander the next morning.
Not in class. Not in the corridors. Not even in the faculty wing, where their eyes sometimes met in passing—quiet glances that lingered too long.
She told herself it was a relief.
It wasn't.
Because Caelan found her first.
He stood outside the greenhouse, leaning with casual elegance against a marble balustrade. His uniform shirt was slightly unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, golden-brown hair tousled like he hadn't even tried. Students glanced at him in passing—many of them more than once.
But his gaze was only on her.
"Walk with me?" he asked, voice warm. Familiar. A comfort she hadn't realized she missed.
She hesitated, then nodded.
They strolled toward the Academy's lower gardens—quiet and untamed, with ivy-covered statues and ancient, whispering trees. The world softened there, shadows broken only by slivers of light through the branches.
"I heard about the incident in your room," Caelan said eventually. "Is it true someone broke in?"
She nodded slowly. "And left a message."
He didn't press. Just glanced sideways at her. "That's twice now."
"Three times, actually," Evelyn muttered. "If you count the ribbon."
Caelan's jaw tensed. "Why aren't they doing more to protect you?"
"They are," she replied. "Alexander moved me to the faculty wing."
The way Caelan's expression darkened at that name didn't go unnoticed.
"Alexander Valerius?" he asked, tone carefully neutral.
"Yes," she said. "He's… involved."
Caelan stopped walking, turning to face her. "Involved how?"
Evelyn hesitated. There was no easy way to explain Alexander. No label that fit him cleanly. Protector? Professor? Something else entirely?
"It's complicated," she said at last.
Caelan studied her a moment longer, and then smiled—soft, but edged. "You always did like the complicated ones."
"I didn't like him," she said, almost too quickly. "I mean—"
He stepped closer, closing the space between them. "Then why do you sound like you're trying to convince yourself?"
Evelyn's breath caught. She opened her mouth to respond—just as a shadow fell over them.
Alexander stood a few paces away. Silent. Watching.
The expression on his face was unreadable.
Evelyn stepped back instinctively. "Alexander—"
Caelan turned, hands slipping into his pockets, easy as ever. "Professor Valerius. We were just catching up."
Alexander's gaze didn't leave Evelyn. "So I see."
Something in the air turned sharp. Tense.
Neither man spoke. Neither moved.
And in that breathless silence, Evelyn realized something dangerous:
She was no longer standing between two worlds.
She was standing between two men.