Page 16 of Kiss Me Like I Didn't Kill You

At some point the seats around me had filled, though I hadn’t noticed, too lost in my own thoughts.

“Good morning,” she begins, her voice carrying across the vast hall. “Welcome back to another year at St Monarché Institute. I trust your summer months have afforded you both rest and reflection, and that you return prepared for the work that lies ahead.”

“As you know, this academy was founded not merely as a place of study, but as a house of heirs, a crucible for legacies and dynasties. We are here to shape you into the men and women your families, and indeed the world, will one day look to for leadership. Here, you will learn discipline, ambition, and resilience.”

A murmur ripples through the hall as the great doors swing open. Even the headmistress hesitates.

Adelaide walks in, chin high, her face unreadable. She doesn’t so much as glance our way before sliding into the seat beside Piper, who sits stiff, her hands knotted tightly in her lap.

The doors swing open again. Three men step inside, and the air changes, whispers sharpening into a restless buzz.

Octavia twists in her seat, eyes narrowing, every line of her body wound tight. “What aretheydoing here?” she spits. Her gaze cuts to Adelaide next, jaw clenched. “I can’t fucking believe you’d let them in.”

Adelaide turns just enough to meet our eyes. The smirk she sends is cruel. My chest tightens as I stare at one of my closest friends and find no trace of her left.

I drop my gaze to my lap, forcing my heartbeat to settle before it gives me away. That’s when I see the shoes in front of me.

Slowly, my eyes climb, over dark, tailored denim, and a fitted shirt that draws clean lines across his frame, and then to his face.

The man before me is beautiful.

Devastatingly so.

Dark hair swept neatly back, cheekbones cut high, his mouth set in a line that betrays nothing.

But it’s his eyes that undo me, blue, midnight dark.

They hold me still, as though he cannot decide whether to strangle me or kiss me.

When his gaze catches on the stitches at my temple, a flicker crosses his face, gone before I can place it.

I should look away, but I don’t.

I’m unable to.

My chest constricts with every breath I take.

Too many feelings rush through me, safety, dread, longing, each one colliding with the next.

Who is he, and why does his presence feel both ruinous and inevitable?

Then he breaks the stare and walks on, dropping into one of the seats with the others.

Only then do I realise he’s taken a place in the row reserved for the other private dorm, identical to ours.

The headmistress clears her throat and carries on, but her words scarcely reach me.

His presence burns at my right. When I turn my head and green meets midnight blue, I am no longer here.

It comes in flashes… his smile, warm, tender, almost adoring. In the next instant, the same smile twisted and cruel.

Then the crimson follows.

Too much of it.

I blink hard, but the image lingers, refusing to release me. My chest knots, my temples pound, my breath comes in broken bursts.

I can’t…