"Hey, newbie."
The sharpness of Shadley's voice sliced through the quiet murmur of the library, striking Tracy like an electric jolt. She jerked her head up from the worn pages of her book, her heart pounding, breath catching in her throat. There he was—standing in front of her, his presence filling the air like a heavy, tangible force. His steps were confident, each one echoing with purpose, and even the late afternoon sunlight seemed to gravitate toward him, casting golden halos around his sharp features.
He was tall, unnervingly tall, with broad shoulders that stretched the fabric of his white shirt and navy slacks to perfection. His uniform wasn't just a standard issue—it seemed to belong to him, molding to his frame with effortless precision, accentuating the raw power that hummed beneath the surface. The academy's emblem sat proudly on his chest, but Tracy's gaze was drawn more to the intensity in his eyes—something unreadable and dark, pulling her in without her consent.
How does anyone look that good in uniform? Her pulse hammered in her ears, her chest tightening as her body betrayed her, the words barely forming in her mind. It wasn't just the way he looked, but how he moved—like he knew the space was his, that everything around him would bend to his will. There was an edge to him, something dangerous, and it made her skin prickle.
His lips curved into a smile, slow and deliberate, the kind that made her stomach flip with an uncomfortable flutter. It was the kind of smile that made you question whether it was meant to charm or to conquer.
"Mind if I join you?"
Her throat went dry, words trapped there like they didn't belong to her. When she finally found her voice, it came out too high, too quick, betraying the nerves she could no longer suppress. "Sure. Have a seat."
She shifted in her chair, trying to make space for him, but it felt forced, as if her body moved without her control, eager to make room for someone who didn't need her permission. His proximity made her skin hum, the space between them suddenly too small for comfort.
He lowered himself into the chair with a fluid grace, the world around him bending without question. The small table between them now felt like a barrier too fragile to hold the weight of his presence. His gaze flickered to the book in her hands, and Tracy couldn't help but notice the flicker of curiosity in his eyes.
"So, what are you reading?"
Her fingers tightened around the edges of the book, her knuckles pale against the cover, her mind scrambling to keep her composure. "I'm researching the Hydra," she managed to say, forcing herself to meet his gaze. His eyes were so intense, it felt like they could see straight through her, pinning her in place. "Trying to find out everything I can."
Shadley's brow arched, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "The Hydra? Sounds intense."
He leaned in, just enough to invade her space, and Tracy could feel the heat radiating from him, feel the pull of his presence like a magnet. His arm brushed against hers as he settled closer, and the contact sent a jolt of heat through her veins. Her breath caught, and for a second, the world outside them seemed to disappear—just her and him, the library fading into the background.
"Mind if I take a look?" His voice was low, smooth, almost too smooth.
Before she could respond, his hand was already reaching toward the book. As their fingers brushed when she handed it to him, a sharp shock ran through her, leaving her skin tingling long after the touch. The world slowed for a beat—his gaze locked with hers, the intensity of it cutting through the space between them. Her heart thundered, too fast, too loud, her mind spiraling as if the world had momentarily ceased to exist outside of him. What was that?Was it just his proximity, his magnetic presence? Or was it something more?
Shadley blinked, the moment breaking, and Tracy exhaled quietly, as if she had been holding her breath for far too long. He pulled the book from her hands, his expression softening ever so slightly, but his gaze lingered on her longer than it should have, leaving her pulse still racing.
"Thanks," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, and Tracy couldn't tell if he was just being polite or if there was something else in the way he said it—something more deliberate, more personal.
Her heart raced in her chest, the silence between them thick with unspoken words, and Tracy couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted in that fleeting moment. She wanted to say something, but her mouth was dry, thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm. Had that been... intimate? Or was she just reading into it?
The quiet stretched, broken only by the soft rustle of pages as Shadley began to leaf through the book. Tracy sat rigid, hands folded in her lap, fingers trembling slightly, as she tried to make sense of the strange pull she felt toward him. The air between them felt heavier now, as if charged with some unknown electricity.
Finally, Shadley broke the silence, his voice a low murmur, but there was a playful spark in his eyes. "Newbie," he said, leaning in slightly, like he was about to share a secret.
Tracy looked up, startled by the nickname, by the way it lingered on his lips with an almost affectionate edge. "Yeah?" she asked, her voice softer than she'd intended, a nervous flutter twisting in her stomach.
"I had a vision," Shadley said, his voice barely above a whisper, a conspiratorial gleam in his eyes. He glanced around the library, checking for eavesdroppers. "And it's something you need to know about. But first... we need to go somewhere more private."
---
Tracy couldn't make sense of what Shadley had just told her. His words echoed in her mind, but her body felt slow to catch up. "Oh my god. So my dad... he was really a necromancer?" Her voice trembled, thick with disbelief as she paced the room, her hands running through her hair in frantic motions, trying to make sense of the revelation.
Shadley nodded, his face serious, his gaze unreadable. "Yes. Your father had powers like mine. But his... they were darker. More dangerous."
"But if Alicia's alive... why hasn't she come back? Where is she?" Tracy's voice broke as panic laced her words, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts about her mother—her anchor. *Why hasn't she come back?*
"I don't know." Shadley's voice softened, a hint of regret in his words. His gaze turned distant, as if he was caught in the same web of uncertainty. "But there's more to this than we understand. Your father's magic—it's left scars. Deep ones."
The silence that followed felt suffocating, pressing down on her chest like a physical weight. The room had grown colder, the truth settling into the walls around them. Tracy felt something shift inside of her—a raw vulnerability she hadn't expected. This was real. And it was just the beginning.
---
Across campus, Daisy and Rebecca walked down a quiet hallway, the normal hum of their conversation interrupted by Rebecca's sharp gaze. She stopped abruptly, narrowing her eyes as she stared through the theater's large windows.
"Isn't that your boyfriend... and the new girl?" Rebecca's voice was teasing but laced with something darker, something possessive. She motioned toward Shadley and Tracy, standing too close, heads bent in whispered conversation.
Daisy's stomach dropped. She could feel the discomfort claw at her insides as she glanced toward them, narrowing her eyes involuntarily. "Yeah… I think so," she murmured, though her voice wavered. It felt too weak, and she hated herself for it.
Rebecca smirked, crossing her arms. "What do you think they're doing in there... alone?" she teased, her words dripping with insinuation.
Daisy's hands clenched into fists at her sides, but she forced herself to look away, trying to swallow the unease that churned in her stomach. What was going on between them?
"They probably have a class together," Daisy said, her voice too quick, the excuse too thin to convince anyone, especially herself. Her heart raced, and she felt the knot in her chest tighten.
Rebecca raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Uh-huh, emphasis on alone." She smirked again, enjoying the discomfort she'd stirred. "I think something's definitely going on there. And pretty soon..." Her voice trailed off, leaving the words unspoken, hanging in the air like smoke. "Honestly, I never liked her, to begin with."
Daisy bit her lip, the unease gnawing at her insides. What if Rebecca is right? What if there was something more between Shadley and Tracy? The thought lodged itself in her chest, tight and uncomfortable, like a splinter that wouldn't let go.
Tracy's gaze was fixed on Shadley, her eyes wide with quiet desperation, as if she were searching for a crack in his expression—a hint of something, anything that would make this heavy silence easier to bear. "Anything?" she asked, her voice trembling, soft but laced with a tight hope that clung to her every word. She leaned slightly forward, her body drawn as if her entire existence depended on the answer.
Shadley's face tightened, the sharp edges of his jaw clenching. His eyes softened with the weight of the moment, but the sadness in them seemed to sink deeper into his features as he shook his head. "No… nothing. I didn't see anything this time," he murmured, his voice low, like the words had been ripped from him.
Tracy's breath caught, a subtle shift in her posture—the slight droop of her shoulders—betrayed her disappointment before she could mask it. The faintest quiver of a sigh passed her lips, but she swallowed it quickly, forcing a composed expression. "Oh…" she whispered, her voice barely audible as she fought to keep her feelings buried beneath the weight of her unspoken words.
Shadley's fingers brushed over hers, his touch firm and warm, pulling her back from the edge of herself. His hand gave a reassuring squeeze, and his gaze softened, meeting hers with a tenderness that both grounded and unsettled her. "But don't worry," he said, his voice steady despite the turmoil beneath. "We'll figure it out. We'll figure it out together."
At those words, something inside Tracy jolted, a sudden rush of heat coursing through her veins. Her heart seemed to skip a beat, then race in double time, a sensation so fierce it nearly took her breath away. She wasn't just holding on to his words; she was holding on to him, to the way he made her feel. The truth hit her like a storm. She liked him. No, more than liked him. The overwhelming realization swept over her, erasing all the doubts she'd tried to bury. She was falling—falling so fast she could hardly grasp at anything to stop it. How had this happened? How had she let herself get tangled in a web of emotions she couldn't escape?
---
Later, as the evening faded into dusk, Shadley spotted Daisy by the entrance, sitting on a bench beneath the flickering light of a nearby streetlamp. Her figure was hunched, almost as if she were hiding from the world, her face a shadow of its usual brightness. The soft glow caught the outline of her profile, but the sorrow in her eyes was unmistakable.
He approached slowly, his boots quiet against the pavement, and when he spoke, his voice was careful, hesitant. "Hey, babe," he said, trying to inject a bit of warmth into the tension between them. "I got your text. You wanted to talk?"
Daisy's head snapped up, her gaze sharp, but the red rims of her eyes betrayed the quiet storm inside her. She didn't speak immediately. When Shadley leaned in, attempting to close the distance between them with a soft, familiar kiss, she pulled away. The action was swift, almost harsh, her brow furrowed in a deep frown that etched lines across her face. It was the first time he had seen her like this—distant, unreadable.
"Daisy…" His voice cracked slightly, a tight knot forming in his chest as he searched her face for any sign of what had gone wrong. "What's wrong?" His chest tightened as he noticed the way her lips trembled, barely holding back the words, the pain.
She sucked in a shaky breath before releasing it in a rush, her voice breaking on the edges of her words. "What's going on between you and her?"
Shadley blinked, confusion flickering across his face. "Me and who?" His voice barely rose above a whisper, unsure, defensive.
"You and Tracy," Daisy spat, her voice sharp as a blade, cutting through the thickening air. "I see you with her all the time now. What's really going on, Shadley?"
His stomach twisted, a sudden weight pressing down on him as the truth seemed to come crashing through. His heart faltered. "Nothing's going on, Daisy. I swear, there's nothing between us," he said, but even he could hear the uncertainty in his voice, the way his own words felt hollow.
"Then why are you always with her?" Daisy's voice was rising now, each word like a punch in the chest. "Every time I ask, you say you're helping her with something, but it's more than that, isn't it?"
Shadley let out a slow breath, his shoulders tightening with frustration and guilt. His calm exterior wavered, but he fought to hold it together. "Daisy, I can't tell you everything," he said, the words coming out strained. "But I promise you, there's nothing between us. We're just—"
"Just what?" Daisy's eyes were wide now, brimming with unshed tears, her hands trembling at her sides. "You're lying to me, Shadley. I know you are."
He reached for her, his voice softening, "I'm not lying, Daisy. Please, trust me."
But Daisy shook her head, her jaw clenched, the words falling from her like daggers. "When you're ready to be honest, let me know. Until then…" Her voice broke, a whisper of pain lingering in the air. "I think we should take a break."
Shadley's heart stopped. "Wait, what?" His voice was thick with disbelief, the knot in his chest tightening. "Are you breaking up with me?"
"I'm sorry," Daisy whispered, her tears falling freely, her gaze never meeting his as she turned, her back straight and her body rigid. She walked away, each step heavier than the last.
---
Back in their dorm room, Tracy stepped in to find Daisy packing furiously, her movements sharp and hurried. Clothes flew from the drawers, hastily thrown into an open suitcase. The sudden sight of it made Tracy's heart stop. "Daisy, what's going on?" she asked, her voice rising with alarm, the confusion and concern etched into her every word.
Daisy turned sharply, her eyes wild with fury. "What's going on? Isn't it obvious?" she hissed, her voice laced with venom, her hands shaking as she zipped up the suitcase with more force than necessary.
Tracy's stomach dropped, a pang of unease striking her. "Are you… moving out?"
"I can't stay here with someone who pretends to be my friend, but stabs me in the back the first chance she gets," Daisy spat, her voice breaking as her emotions cracked wide open.
Tracy took a step forward, desperate to understand. "Daisy, what are you talking about?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Daisy's eyes flashed, her gaze narrowing with anger and betrayal. "You and Shadley. What's going on between you two?"
Tracy's breath caught in her throat, her heart sinking in an instant. She wanted to say so many things—to explain everything, to make it right—but how could she? The truth was too dangerous, too dark. "I… I can't tell you," she whispered, the words barely escaping her lips.
Daisy's face twisted in disgust, her expression hardening with an unforgiving edge. "I regret ever saving you that day," she sneered, her words sharp and bitter. "I wish you had died with your mom."
Tracy's chest constricted, the sharpness of Daisy's words sinking into her like a thousand needles. She stood frozen, her body rigid with shock and pain as Daisy stormed out, the door slamming behind her with a force that echoed through the room.
Tracy collapsed to the floor, her body crumpling as the sobs wracked through her, silent but all-consuming. Her chest heaved as she buried her face in her hands, trying to stifle the raw anguish that threatened to swallow her whole. Her shoulders shook violently, her quiet cries the only sound in the empty room.
---
Shadley found her like that, crumpled on the floor, her sobs ripping through the stillness of the dorm. His steps were slow, measured, as he knelt beside her, a weight of guilt pressing down on him. Without a word, he reached for her, his hand resting gently on her back, offering what little comfort he could.
When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with sorrow. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his breath warm against the silence. "I'm sorry for everything."
Tracy didn't respond, her sobs growing louder, but the sound of his voice seemed to anchor her, even if only just a little. He remained beside her, his hand moving gently through her hair, smoothing the tangled strands. Leaning closer, he lifted her chin, his eyes locking onto hers, soft but determined.
"You're the strongest person I've ever met," he said, his voice unwavering. "And we're going to get through this. Together."
Before Tracy could say a word, the door flew open with a force that startled them both. Sharpay stood in the doorway, her chest heaving, her face pale and wide-eyed with panic. "Shadley, Tracy," she gasped, her voice frantic. "I had a vision…"