Lyra walked back to her dorm slowly, the night air feeling sharper than usual. Her chest still hummed with Kael's words, the weight of centuries pressed against her mind. He's not human.
The phrase echoed every time she blinked. Every shadow she passed seemed heavier, every whisper of wind almost a voice. Her steps faltered near the archway where the courtyard lanterns cast tall, lean shadows. She couldn't shake the image of Kael standing there, still, calm, yet undeniably dangerous.
By the time she reached the dorm, Talia was waiting in the hallway, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," Talia said, one eyebrow raised.
Lyra shook her head, forcing a laugh she didn't feel. "Something like that."
Talia stepped closer. "You mean him again." Her voice softened, but it carried a knowing edge. "You know you're going to get yourself caught staring if you keep this up."
Lyra smirked faintly. "I can handle looking. I just… don't know how to process it."
Talia tilted her head. "Processing what?"
Lyra hesitated. The words felt too heavy to say aloud. He's not human. He—centuries. Protection. Danger.
"I think… I think he's not like anyone I've met," she said finally, carefully. "And I don't know if I should be… afraid or curious."
Talia gave a small, understanding nod. "Maybe both. But it explains why the whole campus seems… off around him."
Lyra glanced down at her notebook, fingers brushing the cover. I should write this. I need to write this. She flipped it open, pen trembling. Letters had always been safer than speech, and now they seemed urgent. Kael said too much. Or not enough.
The next morning, breakfast in the cafeteria felt surreal. Students chattered around her, but Lyra's attention floated elsewhere, flicking to shaded corners, scanning faces for familiar figures. Kael had stayed in shadows at the greenhouse. Now, everywhere she looked, she imagined him there.
She saw Cassian first—laughing at a table near the window. He caught her glance and smirked knowingly, as if testing whether she would react. Riven sat across from him, eyes calculating, scanning the room. Serene, calm and composed, gave a small nod to Lyra.
Her stomach tightened. They're always watching.
By mid-morning, Lyra found herself wandering the old library corridors again. She lingered near the teachers' offices, listening to whispers that might just be coincidence.
What is their history?
She approached Talia during lunch, voice low. "Do you know… anything about the history of this place? Old stories? Strange transfers? Teachers who… disappear?"
Talia blinked. "You mean… ghost stories?"
Lyra's lips tightened. "Not exactly. Just… patterns. Things that don't add up."
Talia leaned closer, lowering her voice. "There are rumors. Some professors… never age. Some students vanish. Some… well, no one talks about them. You've noticed the weird ones, haven't you?"
Lyra nodded, swallowing. "And Kael's group? Are they… unusual?"
Talia hesitated, then shook her head. "They're brilliant, very… intense. But yes, there's a lot of unspoken history there. People avoid asking."
Lyra's pulse picked up. That same tightness she felt at the greenhouse. I'm in their world now. And I don't even know it.
After class, Lyra returned to her dorm, notebook in hand, words spilling out before she could think them through. Letters for Kael, unsigned, careful but bold. You've changed everything. I'm trying to keep up. But what are you?
She paused, pen hovering, heart hammering. A shadow shifted outside the window. Reflexively, she ducked, scanning the hallway. Nothing.
He's here. He's always here.
And yet she wrote, defiant, honest. The ink flowing like a tether, a challenge, a lifeline. Answer me. I can't unsee. I can't undo knowing that you are… not like us.
By evening, Madame Selvara appeared briefly at the edge of the courtyard. Her presence was quiet but palpable. Lyra caught the way her gaze lingered on Kael's direction, then flicked to Lyra, assessing, measuring.
The warning in her eyes was clear: tread carefully.
Lyra didn't flinch. She had questions now, and she would ask them. But she also had a strange, undeniable pull toward the man who stood in shadows, centuries-old, dangerous, and finally… real.