The bonfire event had finally come to an end, leaving behind the faint aroma of burning wood and the excited chatter of students returning to their dorms. The media had done their best to catch snippets of the night, interviewing a handful of freshmen to capture their first impressions of the academy.
But for Cora, the event felt more like a test—a stage on which she had been unwittingly placed under a spotlight she neither desired nor welcomed. She and Amelia made their way back to their dorm, exhaustion pulling at their every step, their dresses feeling heavier than they had when the night began.
Once inside, Cora exhaled, reaching behind her to unzip her dress. Amelia, who had already kicked off her shoes, glanced at her friend, her fiery nature evident even in her tired expression.
"I don't know what Damien Ravenscroft sees in you," Amelia began, her tone laced with both curiosity and concern, "but if he ever makes you uncomfortable, just say the word. I'll deal with him."
Cora's lips curved into a faint smile as she turned to look at Amelia through the mirror. Her friend's protectiveness was endearing, but it was also unnecessary. Damien wasn't a threat she could escape by simply hiding behind someone else. He was a storm—unrelenting, all-encompassing, and impossible to ignore.
"I'll let you know," Cora replied softly, though she doubted there would ever be a way to truly escape him.
She tugged on a loose shirt, her thoughts drifting to Damien. His presence lingered like an unshakable shadow, his piercing gaze etched into her memory. She didn't understand his fascination, but she couldn't deny the truth—the pull she felt toward him was undeniable, dangerous, and utterly beyond her control.
In the privacy of his room, Damien Ravenscroft leaned against the window, his shirt discarded and his chest rising and falling with slow, deliberate breaths. The cool night air brushed against his skin, doing little to cool the fire that burned within him.
He ran a hand through his tousled hair, crimson eyes glowing faintly in the dark as he recalled the events of the night. His intention in approaching Cora had been clear—her mask was an enigma, one he needed to unravel. But there was something more, something he hadn't anticipated.
Her eyes.
Even through the veil of her mask, they struck him with an unnerving familiarity, stirring memories he had no right to remember. He clenched his fists, his mind racing with questions he couldn't answer.
Could it truly be her? His mate?
The thought was both a revelation and a torment. If Cora was truly his, she represented both salvation and chaos. He had no doubt his family would exploit the bond if they discovered it, using her as a pawn in their schemes. For now, he needed to protect her from them—and from himself.
A flutter of wings interrupted his thoughts. A crow perched on the windowsill, its dark feathers gleaming like polished obsidian. Damien turned his head, his sharp gaze locking onto the creature.
"What news?" he asked, his voice low and steady.
The crow hopped onto the windowsill before speaking in a rasping voice. "The Prophetess has arrived at the palace. Your mother summoned her to identify your mate. She's determined to arrange your marriage before you graduate."
Damien's jaw tightened, his crimson eyes darkening as he processed the crow's words. He loved his mother deeply, but her relentless meddling left him torn. She sought only the best for him, but her methods often clashed with his own desires.
"She cannot know," Damien said after a long silence, his voice firm.
The crow tilted its head. "And what of the girl?"
Damien's gaze shifted to the window, his tone softening. "Cora is mine to protect. She's not ready, and neither am I. Until I'm sure, no one else can know."
The crow cawed softly, its dark eyes gleaming with an almost knowing look before it spread its wings and flew off into the night.
Left alone once more, Damien let out a slow breath, his fists unclenching. His instincts screamed for him to claim her, to mark her as his, but his rational mind held him back. She wasn't just another girl; she was his mate. And if he didn't handle this right, he risked losing her forever.
Back in their dorm, Cora and Amelia prepared for bed. Amelia moved about the room, locking the windows and pulling the curtains closed.
"Why do you think they tell us to lock the windows every night?" she asked casually, securing the last latch.
"Maybe there's something we're not supposed to see," Cora replied, her voice thoughtful as she locked the door. "Or maybe it's just for safety reasons."
Amelia shrugged, clearly unbothered, and tossed her phone onto her bed with a frustrated sigh. "The network here is hopeless. I can't even text my mom."
She flopped onto her bed, muttering under her breath, but Cora's attention had already shifted. Pulling her damp hair into a loose braid, she settled into bed, her mind far from the mundane inconveniences of poor reception.
The night carried a stillness that should have been comforting, but instead, it felt heavy. Cora's thoughts spiraled as she stared at the ceiling. Damien's gaze from earlier lingered in her mind, not just as a memory but as a sensation. It was as if he had reached into her soul, pulling at threads she didn't even know existed.
Her heart raced at the thought, and she closed her eyes, trying to shake off the feeling. But sleep didn't come easily.
Outside, the world was anything but quiet.
Damien prowled through the shadows, his movements fluid and silent. The cool night air did little to temper the fire coursing through his veins. His crimson eyes glowed faintly in the darkness, scanning the campus grounds for any sign of trouble—or distraction.
A group of students wandered too close to the edge of the woods, their hushed whispers carrying in the night. Damien's lips curved into a predatory smile, his fangs aching for release.
"Curiosity will be your undoing," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the rustling leaves.
The students shivered, sensing the unseen danger, and hurried back toward their dorms. Damien let them go, his gaze lifting to the moon. Tonight, the hunger within him wasn't for blood. It was for something far more potent, far more dangerous.
He thought of Cora, her masked face haunting his every thought. She was his mate—he was sure of it now. The bond between them was like a tether, pulling him closer with each passing moment. But he couldn't afford to act recklessly. Not yet.
His mother's Prophetess would seek to uncover his mate, and if she succeeded, Cora would be thrust into a world she wasn't ready for. Damien couldn't allow that. Protecting her meant keeping his distance, no matter how much it tore at him.
With a frustrated growl, Damien leapt into the shadows, his form vanishing into the night.