Mitch watched from the doorway as Astor laughed and played with that stray cat he'd taken in. Astor's eyes glowed purple as he used his powers to entertain the creature.

Mitch felt an unexpected pang of jealousy watching the cat snuggle so contentedly into Astor's arms. The little flashes of peace Mitch had experienced under Astor's control came rushing back.

No. He hated feeling weak like that. Hated needing Astor to take away his pain.

Mitch's fists clenched, heat rising within him. Before he knew it, he had stormed across the room and grabbed Astor by the shirt.

"Stop messing with my head!" Mitch yelled, shaking him violently. The cat yowled and fled.

Astor just looked at Mitch with sad, understanding eyes. "I'm not in your head, Mitch. But if lashing out at me helps, I won't fight back."

Mitch roared and slammed Astor against the wall. His berserker rage was taking over, blinding him. He wrapped both hands around Astor's throat, ready to squeeze.

Astor remained limp, accepting. Somehow that made Mitch even angrier. His grip tightened.

Just before Mitch lost all control, Astor rasped out "Do it..."

Those words pierced through Mitch's haze of fury. What was he doing? He released Astor, stumbling back in horror.

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Astor sank to the floor, coughing. After catching his breath, he said, "I'll take away the anger if you need me to."

"No!" Mitch shouted, even as part of him desperately craved that peaceful feeling again. He hated this twisted addiction.

"Enjoy having me under your thumb, don't you?" Mitch spat bitterly. "Go on, make me your puppet again!"

Astor flinched but obediently reached out with his powers. At once Mitch's rage evaporated, replaced by affection and calm.

But the shame burning inside him was worse than any anger. A moment later, Astor released his hold.

Mitch turned and fled the room, disgusted with himself. He had to get away before he begged Astor to keep controlling him.

What was he becoming? Neither of them were safe with his psyche unraveling this way. Mitch ran until he collapsed, wishing to escape the battle raging within his damaged soul.

Ms. Minxes dabbed gently at the bruises forming on Astor's neck as he sat on the edge of the tub in the bathroom. He winced but didn't complain. He knew he deserved this pain after how he'd manipulated Mitch again.

"What were you thinking, using your powers on him like that?" Ms. Minxes asked a hard edge in her normally gentle voice.

Astor lowered his eyes, unable to meet her disappointed gaze. "I'm sorry. He was so angry, I just wanted to give him some peace..."

Ms. Minxes sighed heavily. "I know you meant well, Astor, but you must stop controlling people's minds, no matter how noble your intentions seem."

Ms. Minxes taped a bandage over the worst of the bruises. Her expression softened. "I believe you sincerely want to help, Astor. But these abilities are still new to all of us. We have to be careful not to let them corrupt us."

Astor nodded, a hard lump forming in his throat. "Are the others mad at me?"

"No, just concerned for both you and Mitch," she said gently. "But until you two can resolve this tension, it's best you give each other space."

Astor's heart sank at the thought of being isolated from the group. But he knew Ms. Minxes was right. His presence would just provoke Mitch's volatile temper right now.

"Okay, I understand," Astor said quietly.

Ms. Minxes gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze. "This isn't a punishment, Astor. We just want to keep everyone safe while we figure out our next steps. It will get better."

He managed a small, unconvincing smile. Astor wanted to believe her, but the darkness in Mitch's eyes made him worry nothing would ever be the same between them again. All because of these powers he never asked for and still couldn't control.

But Astor had to cling to hope. If he gave up faith in Mitch and himself, the shadows waiting to claim them would win. Step by step, he had to find the light again.