Chapter 20: Deeper Tensions

His eyes bore into mine through the screen, a silent challenge that sends a thrill of fear and excitement through me. There’s something in his gaze, something that makes me feel like he’s stripping away all the layers I’ve carefully constructed, leaving me exposed, vulnerable. It’s unnerving, and yet… I can’t help but be drawn to it, to him.

But I have to focus. I force myself to tear my eyes from the screen, to look at the rest of the room. The team is busy, taking notes, analyzing data, but there’s a tension in the air, a sense of unease that no one wants to acknowledge. It’s like we’re all waiting for something to happen, something that will shatter the fragile calm that’s settled over the prison.

“We’ll continue monitoring the inmates for the next few hours,” Hayes says, breaking the silence. “Professor, you’ll have a chance to observe them in person during the afternoon activities. We’ll rotate the guards, keep everything as controlled as possible.”

“Understood,” I reply, my voice steady, though my mind is still racing with thoughts of Sev, with the memory of his gaze locked onto mine.

The hours stretch on, each minute feeling like an eternity as we watch the screens, our eyes glued to the unfolding drama within the prison walls. The inmates move through their routines with a practiced ease, but there’s an undercurrent of tension, a sense of something simmering just below the surface. I jot down notes, observations about their behavior, the way they interact with each other, the subtle power dynamics that play out in every gesture, every glance.

But no matter how hard I try to focus, my thoughts keep drifting back to Sev. There’s something about him that I can’t quite put my finger on, something that sets him apart from the others. He’s dangerous, that much is clear, but there’s a depth to him, a complexity that intrigues me, that makes me want to understand what drives him.

Finally, the time comes for me to observe the inmates in person. The guards escort me to the yard, their presence a silent reminder of the danger that lurks around every corner of this place. The air is colder out here, the wind biting at my cheeks, but I don’t let it show. I can’t afford to show any weakness, not in front of them.

The yard is a chaotic mess of activity. Inmates move in groups, some lifting weights, others playing basketball or jogging around the perimeter. The guards stand at attention, their eyes scanning the crowd, always ready for trouble. It’s a powder keg, waiting for the smallest spark to set it off.

I make my way through the yard, keeping my movements controlled, deliberate. I can feel the inmates watching me, their eyes burning into my back, but I don’t acknowledge them. I keep my focus on the task at hand - observing, analyzing, collecting data. But it’s hard to concentrate with the tension thrumming in the air, the low murmur of voices punctuated by the occasional shout or clang of metal.

As I approach the weight yard, I feel a prickle of awareness at the back of my neck, a sensation that tells me I’m being watched. I don’t have to turn around to know who it is. I can feel Sev’s gaze on me, as intense and unyielding as it was through the camera. My heart skips a beat, but I force myself to stay calm, to keep walking.

I stop near the bench press, my eyes scanning the area, taking in the sight of the Sevens as they work out. Their movements are precise, controlled, a display of power and discipline. But there’s an edge to it, a sense of barely restrained violence that simmers beneath the surface.

And then there’s Sev. He’s leaning against the fence, his arms crossed over his chest, his posture relaxed but somehow commanding. He’s watching me, his gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch in my throat.

I force myself to meet his gaze, to hold it, even though every instinct is screaming at me to look away, to retreat to the safety of the guards. But I can’t. There’s something about him that draws me in, that makes me want to understand him, even though I know it’s dangerous.

He steps away from the fence, closing the distance between us with slow, deliberate steps. The air between us is charged, electric, and I feel like I’m standing on a live wire, the tension humming through my veins.

“Professor,” he says, his voice low and smooth, like a knife sliding through silk.

“Sevastyan,” I reply, my voice steady, though there’s a tremor in my hands that I hope he doesn’t notice.

He studies me for a moment, his eyes taking in every detail of my appearance, as if he’s trying to figure out what makes me tick. “What are you really doing here?” he asks, his voice soft but laced with a dark edge.

“I told you,” I say, forcing myself to hold his gaze. “I’m here to observe.”

“To observe,” he repeats, his tone dripping with skepticism. “Or to judge?”

“I’m not here to judge anyone,” I reply, my voice firmer now, even though my heart is pounding in my chest. “I’m here to understand.”

He stares at me for a long moment, as if weighing my words, measuring them against something in his mind. Then he nods, a small, almost imperceptible movement. “You’re different,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can see that.”

“I’m not here to be different,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm, trying to stay in control. “I’m here to do my job.”

He smiles then, a slow, dangerous smile that sends a shiver down my spine. It’s a smile that promises trouble, a smile that knows too much, sees too much.

“We’ll see about that,” he murmurs, his voice like a dark caress against my skin.

The air between us is charged, electric, and I feel like I’m standing on a live wire, the tension humming through my veins. I’m hyper-aware of everything - the sound of his breathing, the heat of his body so close to mine, the way his eyes never leave mine. It’s like we’re the only two people in the world, and everything else has faded into the background.

I should walk away. I should put distance between us, retreat to the safety of the guards, the safety of my role. But I can’t move. I’m rooted to the spot, held captive by his gaze, by the intensity of the moment.

“What’s your real name?” he asks suddenly, breaking the silence, his voice low and intimate.

“Liberty,” I reply before I can think better of it. “Liberty Lockwood.”

He smiles again, a slow, knowing smile that makes my heart skip a beat. “Liberty,” he repeats, the word rolling off his tongue like a secret. “A fitting name.”

“For what?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“For someone who’s about to enter a world where freedom doesn’t exist,” he says, his eyes locking onto mine, holding me captive. “Where everything is a cage.”

There’s a dark truth in his words, one that resonates deep within me, sending a chill through my bones. I’ve stepped into a world I barely understand, a world that’s already begun to change me in ways I can’t even comprehend.

“I’m not afraid,” I say, though the words sound hollow, even to me.

“Maybe you should be,” he replies, his voice soft but laced with warning.

I open my mouth to respond, but the words die on my lips as one of the guards steps forward, breaking the tension between us. “Professor Lockwood,” he says, his voice firm. “It’s time to go.”

I nod, tearing my eyes away from Sev’s intense gaze, feeling the weight of the moment slipping away. I turn and walk toward the gate, the guards flanking me on either side, their presence a silent barrier between me and the man I’ve just left behind.

But as I walk away, I can still feel Sev’s eyes on me, watching me, following me. And I know, deep down, that this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

We are only just getting started.