Chase smirked to himself. He loved fucking with her head. Couldn't get enough of the swarm of confusion clouding her mind every time he pressed his thoughts into hers. Even now, she was having difficulty concentrating on the book in her hands, and she finally gave up, slamming the cover shut with a soft curse.

Hearing her swear made his grin widen. Good riddance; he hated Wuthering Heights, anyway.

Hovering unseen by her bedside, Chase watched as Lily set the book aside, swinging her legs over the edge of the mattress. With a great sigh, she let her head drop into her hands, frustration wafting through her like a warm wind.

He chuckled inwardly. Toying with her psyche had become a great source of amusement for him. Hell, something had to amuse him, given his current circumstances. It had been well over a month since he'd first grafted onto her life-force in order to restore his Power, an act that had—in a cruel twist of irony—left him completely bound to this girl. Tethered to her spirit. Dependent on her and her alone for the strength he craved, needed. His ability to influence limited only to her when he could conjure the will to do so.

It was a side-effect Putnam had failed to make known to him, and he wondered if that had been his intent from the very beginning.

Lily murmured softly in her throat, recapturing his attention. Pushing her hair back from her face, she stood and crossed over to her dresser, unbuttoning her blouse along the way. Ever so slowly, a smile crept across his lips. Chase had watched her undress countless times, but he couldn't deny how much he actually enjoyed this part of his unwilling attachment to her. Even now, his eyes became hooded as he saw her slide the blouse down her arms, leaving her only in her thin camisole.

He subconsciously pulled in a discreet breath through his nostrils. There were definitely worse individuals he could have been bound to, and he had yet to be disappointed by what she had to offer him visually. At seventeen, it was clear to see why Lily Callahan turned the heads of most of the boys at school. While there was no shortage of attractive girls at Spenser Academy, something about Lily was quite different. Her beauty was softer. Effortless, and though he'd done so many times, he couldn't resist the urge to scan her appearance from head to toe once more. Her long, flowing hair was a rich shade of brown, framing a sweet face with fair skin. The darkness of her hair accented a pair of bright blue eyes, which seemed to glow any time she smiled. A smile on lips so naturally pink that she hardly ever needed lipstick to enhance them. Reaching around to tie her hair back into a ponytail, the evidence of her swimmer's physique hardly escaped Chase's notice. Broad shoulders and arms that were well-defined from years of dedicated practice; the long line of her torso, typically an advantageous trait amongst the best of swimmers; and, as she pulled the camisole over her head, leaving her standing there in only her bra and jeans, he caught sight of the way her body tapered down to her slender waist and flat abdomen. Oh yes; this girl was built for swimming, and that only added to her appeal as Chase loomed ever closer to her.

Once her hair was tied back, her hands reached around to unclasp her bra.

Slowly, he thought to her, not missing the slight hesitation in her movements after he'd whispered the word to her.

Her delicate brows furrowed, but then she was continuing her movements just as he'd requested, slowly unclasping the bra with her fingers, then sliding the straps down her shoulders just as carefully.

That's right, he encouraged, angling his head to get better view. Just like that.

Chase took in the sight of her as she bared her breasts, raking his teeth over his bottom lip. No; he'd certainly never tire of seeing that. Her breasts weren't overly large, but suited her lithe figure, and if his sense of touch were intact, he had a feeling that if he cupped them, they'd fit perfectly in his palms.

If only, he grinned again, bringing his fingers to just barely graze over her shoulder. He knew it would produce nothing more than a chilled sensation, verified by the involuntary shiver that suddenly traveled up Lily's spine, and the subsequent tightening of her rosy nipples in response. Eyes closed, he saw her draw in a breath, then release a trembling exhale through her lips as she drew her arms over herself. When she opened her eyes again, she turned her head in his direction, those uncertain blue orbs scanning the far wall of her dorm, prompting him to give another chuckle.

Search all you want, lovely, he taunted, floating above her head. You'll never find me.

For a long moment, she didn't move. Just stood there, staring. Searching. But soon enough, he could sense how foolish she felt, and saw her shake her head as she opened the top drawer of her dresser. Pulling out a t-shirt and shorts—her usual sleepwear—she quickly pulled the top down over her head, much to his disappointment.

You know how to ruin a good thing, he thought, though watched raptly as she removed her jeans from her shapely legs. Once she'd pulled on her shorts, she made her way to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Chase, who was never far behind, floated easily through the door. Once he saw Lily on the other side, his curiosity got the better of him, and he pushed himself into her thoughts.

Lily splashed one more handful of water onto her face, rinsing away the last remnants of her facial cleanser as she held her damp face in her hands.

Tyler, she thought, releasing a sigh. His face still hadn't left her mind. Amazing how such a brief encounter could have such a tremendous impact on her, but God, the way he'd smelled…and the deep sound of his voice…and how those gorgeous eyes had searched hers…

There was no way her mind could focus on her studies any longer. She'd just have to finish reading that chapter in her book first thing tomorrow morning.

Lifting her eyes to the mirror, she paused, stunned by what she saw. Jesus, she thought, unable to look away from her reflection. She looked tired. So much paler than usual, and the dark circles beneath her eyes made her appear as though she hadn't slept in days. At times, that was exactly how she felt.

She brought a hand to touch one of those heavy circles. I look like absolute crap, her mind whispered. Worn out. Old. For a teenager, she actually looked old, and that frightened her. It didn't seem to matter how much sleep she got at night, or how easy she took it during the day. The incessant fatigue hung over her like a constant fog, and there didn't seem to be any way to shake it.

But why? How in hell is this still happening to me?

I'm worried about you, Tyler's words returned to her. Please…

She sighed, her fingers curling over the edge of the porcelain sink. So am I. Regardless of what had happened, it was nice to know that he did still worry…

After drying her face and brushing her teeth, she made her way back into her dorm, pretending to take inventory of everything she needed to take to class tomorrow. Her backpack; several pens, since she preferred writing in ink as opposed to pencil lead; at least one mechanical pencil so she could take her chemistry test; her copy of Wuthering Heights; an extra water bottle to sip on throughout the day…

But try as she might, she could hardly stop her mind from drifting back to thoughts about Tyler. Back to memories of last month, and to the circumstances that had led to the rift between them. She hesitated, then unzipped a smaller pocket at the front of her backpack, pulling out a carefully folded piece of paper. One she'd not let herself read in weeks. Setting the bag on the floor, she unfolded the page, letting her eyes absorb the words scrawled in Tyler's penmanship, memorizing them all over again. It was the poem he'd written her back in September—the one he'd given her when he asked her to be his date to Fall Fest—and as she re-read the last line, it still caused her breath to catch:

"…the leaves' hues may fade from gold,

but in the light of your smile, there shall never be cold."

She exhaled slowly. He certainly had a way with written words, a testament to his fondness for his English classes. Lily remembered the way her heart had fluttered back then, just as it was fluttering beneath her chest now, and the way she'd smiled up at him when he posed his question to her. She'd been thrilled at the notion of being his date, something she'd secretly dreamed of since last year, and not just because of whom he was in the eyes of the Spenser-elite. She genuinely liked Tyler, and had secretly hoped that this date would lead to something more than just the friendship they'd established. How excited she'd been as she waited for him to pick her up from her dorm that night. And waited. And waited. For an hour and a half, she waited. Sitting there in the pink dress she'd picked out for the occasion. No phone call, no nothing. Even when she tried calling him, it kept going straight to voicemail, and there was no way she could stop the tears that ran silently down her cheeks.

Her first date with Tyler, and she'd been stood up.

Pushing the hurt aside, she summoned every ounce of courage she had to go to the dance anyway, where she sought comfort within her circle of friends. While there, though, her eyes never stopped searching for any sign of Tyler, not even when other guys approached and asked her to dance. Sometime later, she finally spotted him: standing just outside the main entrance to the gymnasium as he talked with Reid, as well as Caleb Danvers' girlfriend, Sarah. Hanging out with his friends instead of escorting her to the dance, and completely oblivious to her presence inside. She'd been ready to yell at him, to slap him across the face, to make him feel the kind of pain that was still causing her heart to sting…There was none of that. As soon as the clock struck eleven, Lily had had enough, slipping out a side door and making her way back to the dorms. No one else needed to see her cry.

She stared at the paper in her hands, re-reading his poem yet again. As upset as she had been with him for choosing his friends over her…she couldn't deny how much she still liked him. Tyler had tried getting in touch with her the next day, but by then, she'd been too angry to speak to him, let alone listen to his apologies if he happened to catch her in the halls. She thought perhaps if she cooled off after a few days, she'd be ready to listen to what he had to say.

But it wasn't long after that that she'd begun exhibiting signs of physical exhaustion, which became progressively worse in the weeks that followed. It scared her, and deep down, she had to wonder if it had anything to do with her falling-out with Tyler. Adding to her distress was the notion something in her mind seemed to be telling her to keep her distance from him, that same voice that didn't seem like hers telling her she needed to avoid him for her own good.

But if that really was the case…then why did his mere presence seem to calm her when she bumped into him today? Why did having him so close to her seem to temporarily clear the haze in her mind? Why did his touch make her feel so much stronger than she had in days?

She gave a long, audible sigh, gently clutching the poem to her chest as she lay back onto her bed. She wouldn't lie: she wished things had gone differently between them earlier that day, and in truth, she wasn't entirely sure why she being so short with him. Something inside just kept compelling her to…

Heaving out another breath, Lily turned on her side, reaching down to return the poem to its safe place in the pocket of her backpack. The red digital numbers on her nightstand clock read 10:02p.m. Normally, she'd turn out the light closer to eleven, but considering the fatigue that was washing over her yet again, she opted to switch it off now. Laying her head upon her pillow, she let the darkness consume her senses, her mind drifting back to thoughts of Tyler, and how she would have rather seen things happen today.

Well, well, well, Chase mused, tilting his head as he floated overhead. What an interesting turn her thoughts had suddenly taken, revealing her deepest desires when images of Tyler Simms entered her mind. Not just memories of their ill-fated conversation from earlier, but fantasies about him cupping her face in his hands, his eyes boring into hers as he bent down and pressed his lips to hers, stopping all words between them as he kissed her sweetly.

Why, Lily, he smirked, sensing the longing in her heart. Pining for what he's never given you, are we? What a shame to waste your energy on him. Then again, maybe he knows he's not man enough to give you what you need.

He saw her shift beneath her comforter so that she lay fully on her back. But the image in her head remained.

He stared. The first time he'd ever detected her romantic feelings towards Tyler, he'd nearly laughed his damn fool head off. Of all people he could have possibly latched onto, it ended up being this girl, one who was unknowingly keeping him connected to the other Sons of Ipswich. Quite the unexpected twist of fate, but one he might eventually be able to use to his advantage. How fitting: toying first with the eldest member of the coven, and now the youngest.

In truth, out of all the Sons, Tyler had been the least of his concerns when he first transferred to Spenser. Though gifted with Power, birth order always dictated who would garner the most strength within the covens, and his abilities weren't nearly as strong as Caleb's. As such, Chase had hardly perceived the younger man as a threat, but now everything had changed. While he remained confined to this existence, all of the Ipswich boys were stronger than he, and he lacked the strength to challenge any of them. For now, anyway.

This was why he often steered Lily away from the boys, away from Tyler in particular. The less she interacted with them, the less likely they would be to pick up on his presence, especially during instances when he would use his Power on her in public. He was already acutely aware that Caleb could sense something out of the ordinary during swim practices, which was why he had to make sure to act with discretion.

With Tyler, it was obvious that he had a vested interest in the girl, and that was a danger to Chase. The instant he sensed any kind of a threat against her, he knew the Sons would take immediate action in order to protect her. He couldn't risk detection long before he had a chance to restore his Power. No; for the time being, he'd have to remind Lily of the hurt that Tyler's carelessness had caused her, amplify the anger she'd tried to forget in the days since the dance and keep as much space between them as possible. There was little she could do to fight against his influence, and at times, he rather enjoyed being able to manipulate her. He had to wonder how much that ability to sway would be affected as he continued to replenish his strength.

He could sense the very moment that Lily entered a state of deep sleep. The last shreds of conscious thought lingered in her mind, and as she dreamed, he caught a glimpse of her still being held tightly in Tyler's embrace.

Chase narrowed his eyes, all amusement fading from his thoughts. Enough, something inside him whispered, but he tried to dismiss it as nothing more than irritation. That was perhaps the most important reason of all for keeping Lily away from him: while it was simple to bend her mind to his will, there was something about Tyler's presence that seemed to interrupt his hold on her, made her more able to resist him…the temporary clarity allowing her think for herself, only to lose it all again once he regained his grasp on her. It was an interesting effect, but one he couldn't let happen, not while he was still going through the process of healing himself.

Speaking of which…

Smiling darkly, Chase descended from the ceiling until he hovered just over Lily, bringing a hand to rest upon her chest. She stirred briefly, most likely from the sudden chill she felt, but then became still again. When he was certain she had settled, he felt his eyes morph to black as Power came alive in his fingertips, an overwhelming desire to use seizing his senses. Just as he'd done every night since he'd first latched onto her, he concentrated on the steady beat of her heart, focusing on what he needed to take from her, and soon enough, he began to feel gentle warmth expanding beneath his palm.

Yes, his mind hissed approvingly, his eyes falling half-closed as he waited for the sensation spread. Repairing his weakened form by draining her life-force had been a slow, tedious process at best, but very gradually, he'd been achieving the results Putnam had promised him when this all began. The worst of the pain had long ago faded, and each time he pulled her essence into himself, he could feel the strength surging through his veins.

Yes, he repeated, sighing deeply, opening his eyes to look at her again. Give me what I need.

Trembling breaths passed through Lily's parted lips, her chest rising and falling a bit faster with his hand on her. At times, it was more satisfying to drain her while she slept as opposed to while she was conscious. Latching onto her as she swam was a good strategy, as he was able to absorb a greater amount of energy from her in one shot. But having her at his mercy like this—listening to her breathe like that—was truly intoxicating, and his smile widened as he continued to watch her face.

Strange, he thought, the smile fading a touch. Something about this was…different. Unlike every other time he'd taken from her, this was somehow better. Her heartbeat felt stronger than usual, pulsing out a higher amount of energy than what he'd come to expect each night, and consequently, the warmth was traveling up his arm at an even faster rate. Strength flowing through him in waves, spreading rapidly throughout his spectral form, and he reveled in the rejuvenation it was offering, regardless of how minimal it still was for the time being—

No…

Chase's eyes widened, his concentration faltering slightly as he looked down at Lily. For once, it had not been his own voice in his head. Furrowing his brow, he continued to stare at her, seeing the strain that was marking her features as her head rolled to one side.

Who are you?

Her voice was so far away. Weak. As far as he could tell, she was still asleep, but it was the first time she'd ever attempted to communicate with him through his thoughts. He blinked. How? How had she garnered enough strength to break through to him like that?

Who are you, she had asked, and Chase's curiosity flared again as he peered inside her mind, needing to know just how much she was seeing in her dreams. He found Lily there, trapped in darkness while someone had her wrapped in their strong arms from behind, a hand pressed to her chest just as his own was. To his relief, the figure holding her didn't have any discernible features: just a blank face as it continued to hold her hostage in its embrace, the effects of what was happening to her in real life translating into her subconscious. Helpless. She looked so helpless in those unyielding arms, hardly able to fight what was happening to her. She just let it happen. However, through the tangle of fear and confusion plaguing her heart, one last whispered word managed to reach his ears.

Tyler…

Pulling back from her thoughts, Chase's black eyes watched her intently, his suspicions now raised after that last glimpse into her mind. Something had occurred to make her strong enough to pull from his hypnotic hold, to reach out to him, and he had to wonder if Tyler's interference from that afternoon had anything to do with it.

His upper lip quivered. Tell me what it is, Putnam. He never received an answer, though, nor did he expect one. Putnam hadn't returned since the night he'd first pulled him out of that strange Purgatory, and Chase quickly realized that there was a great deal he'd have to figure out on his own. If that was the case, so be it.

Lily's chest shuddered beneath his palm, and Chase continued to hold onto her. We will learn, won't we, lovely? He thought, letting his other hand brush coldly against her cheek.

On the outskirts of Ipswich, Power was permeating the atmosphere of the Danvers Estate, calling out to Caleb yet again in his sleep, but it was not enough to wake him. As such, he was unaware of the mild tingles prickling in his fingertips; did not recognize the thin sheen of sweat covering his skin.

Had he been awake, he might have deduced that his Power had been trying to warn him of a looming threat.