(Third-Person POV)
The library at Regal Heights was quieter than most cathedrals. Rows of mahogany shelves stood like soldiers, polished to a shine that reflected the soft golden glow of antique lamps. It wasn't where most students went willingly....too quiet, too serious, too exposing. But Liana had found her corner here, at a table near the window where the late afternoon sun slanted in.
Her sketchbook was open, though she hadn't drawn much. Every time she pressed pencil to paper, her mind wandered....not to her phoenix, not to her next piece, but to a folded scrap of paper that sat hidden in her bag.
Stay cautious, Hart.
She hadn't told Bianca about it. Couldn't. Something inside her whispered that Bianca wouldn't understand, maybe wouldn't even care. And the thought unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.
She rubbed her forehead, trying to focus, when a chair scraped softly across from her.
Her head shot up.
Rafe.
He sat down without asking, sprawling lazily yet somehow elegant, his gray eyes flicking briefly over her sketchbook before settling on her face. He wore his uniform jacket unbuttoned, collar slightly undone, as if rules bent naturally around him.
For a moment, neither spoke. The silence between them wasn't awkward....it was heavy, like a secret waiting to fall.
"You shouldn't stay late alone," he said finally, his voice low, gravel-edged.
Liana blinked. "Excuse me?"
Rafe leaned back, his gaze shifting to the tall windows. "This school has shadows you don't see. Not all of them wear uniforms."
Her pulse quickened. The memory of the courtyard ambush clawed back to the surface. She straightened, chin lifting. "Are you warning me again? Or threatening me this time?"
Something flickered in his eyes...hurt, maybe, or irritation...but it was gone as quickly as it came. "If I wanted to threaten you, Hart, you'd know."
She bristled at his coldness. But the paper in her bag burned like proof that he wasn't lying.
"Then why?" she asked softly. "Why bother? You don't even know me."
Rafe's gaze finally locked on hers. And for the first time, she saw something unguarded "I don't need to"
Her breath hitched. There was something in his tone, a weight that spoke of nights darker than hers, of silences heavier than words. She opened her mouth...
"Interesting," a cool voice cut through the quiet.
Both their heads snapped toward the aisle.
Xavier Blake stood at the end of the row, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable. The fading sunlight gilded his black hair, throwing shadows across his sharp jawline. His eyes, however, were storm-dark, fixed not on Liana but on Rafe.
The air thickened instantly.
"Well, this is new," Xavier drawled, stepping closer. "Rafe Sterling, of all people, keeping company with… her."
Liana's chest tightened. "Don't make it sound like I'm...."
"Like you're what?" Xavier interrupted smoothly, his gaze flicking to hers. "Caught in the wrong place, with the wrong person?"
Rafe shifted in his chair, but his posture stayed deceptively relaxed. "Funny. I don't remember you owning the library, Xavier."
Xavier's smirk sharpened, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I don't need to own it. I own the rules that matter."
The two boys stared at each other, and Liana felt caught between colliding storms. Xavier, all sharp edges and fire. Rafe, a glacier with cracks beneath the surface.
Finally, Liana stood, clutching her sketchbook. "I don't need either of you to decide where I sit or who I talk to." Her voice was steady, though her heart thundered. "So, if you'll excuse me...."
She tried to walk past, but Xavier's hand shot out, fingers closing gently...not tightly...around her wrist. The contact sent a jolt through her.
"Careful, Liana," he said, voice low enough that only she could hear. "Not every shadow offers protection. Some swallow you whole."
Her breath caught. He released her just as quickly, turning his glare back to Rafe.
Rafe rose too, tall enough that the lamplight cast both boys in stark relief. He didn't step closer, didn't raise his voice. He simply said, "And not every crown keeps its kingdom."
Xavier's jaw clenched. For a heartbeat, Liana thought he might strike him. But instead, he smirked faintly, as if amused by a game only he knew the rules to.
The echo of his footsteps faded down the aisle, leaving behind silence thick enough to choke on.
Liana realized she was still clutching her sketchbook like a shield. Her hands shook.
Rafe glanced at her, unreadable again, the moment of softness gone. "He's right about one thing," he muttered, turning away. "Shadows don't protect anyone."
And then he left too.
Liana sank back into her chair, her pulse racing, her mind whirling.
Xavier's fire.
Rafe's silence.
Bianca's smile.
Nothing at Regal Heights was simple anymore.
And for the first time, she wondered if she was the one being played....or if she had just stepped into a game neither boy intended to lose.