Page 10

Chapter 9

Selestina

I jolt awake, sweat trickling down my face.

It was a nightmare.

I run my hand through my hair, my heart pounding from the dream. Alexander is a cloud of rain, always just right above my head. A nightmare in my sleep and in my wake. My breath comes in ragged gasps, and I glance around the room, trying to ground myself. I’m not at The Citadel. I’m at Obsidian Academy, in my dorm room. Safe. Or at least, safer than I’ve been in a long time.

I glance over at Nasarea, making sure I didn’t wake her. She’s still asleep, her eyebrows scrunched together, her nose wrinkled in annoyance. Even in sleep, she looks pissed off, like the world’s out to get her. It makes me giggle softly. Of course, I immediately cover my mouth, not wanting to wake her and ruin the moment.

Finally, I take a second to actually take in the room. The walls are made of stone, dark and rough. Above us, candles are powered by magic, their soft light unwavering even when there’s no draft.

My feet hit the cold floor, and I shiver, the cool air kissing my skin. I make my way to the window, curious about what the view looks like now that I’m fully awake.

When I pull back the heavy curtains, the sight takes my breath away.

From this height, I can see far beyond the academy grounds. The Dark Forest stretches out below me, the tops of the trees covered in a delicate fog that sparkles in the early morning light. The fog shimmers like magic itself, casting an ethereal glow over everything. Creatures, sprites, birds, and other beings of Tonalli, flit and fly about, their movements graceful and wild. It’s like something out of a dream, and for a moment, I forget about everything else.

In the distance, the jagged peaks of the mountains rise up against the horizon, shrouded in mist. The sky is painted in shades of orange and pink as the sun slowly begins its ascent, casting a soft glow over the landscape. It’s breathtaking.

I tilt my head back and look up at the sky, catching sight of the two full moons still hanging there. Something about it makes me smile, a warmth spreading through my chest despite everything weighing on me.

But then, my stomach growls, reminding me I haven’t eaten since yesterday. Even then, it was just an oat bar from my satchel. I press a hand to my tummy, shaking my head. Time to get ready for my first day at the academy. I better hurry, even if part of me wants to linger by the window and take in the view for a little longer.

I look down and realize I am still a bloody, dirty mess. I must have been too restless in my sleep, opening up wounds that I already stitched together back in the forest. Even with the clean clothes I changed into before entering the academy, blood is coming through the fabric from the shitty dressing I gave my wounds. I glance back at my bed and see the remnants of a long night of thrashing while covered in blood. Right. I’ll need to wash my sheets before I sleep in them again. I quickly head to the bathroom and take a much quicker shower than I want. Eager to start the day.

I move quietly, not wanting to wake Nasarea as I look in my closet for my uniform.

It’s not bad, all things considered. Black, with a silver crest stitched onto the jacket. A white button-up top and a black pleated skirt. I quickly slip it on and lace up my boots—my black platform boots I snagged from a shop in Metztli. I smuggled them back to The Citadel, hiding them from Alexander, a small act of rebellion he never knew about. Wearing them now feels like a small victory, like I’m keeping something that’s just mine.

I walk over to the mirror and line my eyes with black coal, smudging it just enough to give me that dark, feral look I’ve come to perfect. I square my shoulders, rolling them back as I let out a slow breath. I need to be ready. For everything. My body still aches from my journey through the Dark Forest, but this is normal for me and Alexander’s wrath. I know how to go through my day with lingering pain. I wish I could wear my silk mask, a comfort I didn’t realize I have become used to. It’s a brand of the Shadow Reaper, though, so I can only wear it on missions or when I’m doing something for Alexander.

Grabbing my black shoulder bag, I take one last glance at the window, letting the sight of the mountains and the shimmering fog fill me with a sense of calm. I may not have much control over my life, but right now, in this moment, I feel... okay.

With a final deep breath, I open the door quietly and slip out into the hallway before Nasarea can wake up. Time to face whatever this academy has in store for me.

The dining hall buzzes with life, an orchestra of laughter, clinking silverware, and muffled voices, blending together in a symphony of early morning energy. Students chatter, jostling for seats, trays piled high with steaming plates of breakfast fare. The air is thick with the aroma of freshly baked bread and spiced porridge, tempting enough to almost distract me from the gnawing exhaustion lingering from the night before. My mind is still fogged, blurry from nightmares that twisted through sleep, leaving me half awake.

I drag myself toward the food line, barely noticing the clamor around me, but always on alert. My hand wraps around a tray as I stifle a yawn, reaching absently for a plate. My eyes sweep across the room, tracing the shapes of unfamiliar faces. As I scan, my gaze catches on someone unmistakable.

Him.

The stranger from the tavern. Rafael. I instantly smile when I make eye contact with him. But the longer I look at him, my smiles starts to fade.

He looks different… from when he was nothing more than a dangerous looking man with piercing ocean eyes and a grin that promised trouble. He no longer gives off flirty and fun energy, standing amidst the bustling students with a presence that feels incongruent, somehow too composed, too sharp. My pulse quickens, a mix of dread and something darker pulsing through me.

His eyes find mine, and I see a crack in that cold, perfect mask, his eyes widening just a fraction before his face steels over. There’s no hint of the warmth he’d shown me in that tavern corner, no sign of the laughter or easy smiles that made me forget my name, if only for a night. Now, his gaze is a blade, cutting through the distance between us with something akin to… accusation?

He’s moving toward me, radiating an aura that sends a jolt of nerves through me. I tense, bracing myself as he closes the distance, his face a mask of controlled anger, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Did you follow me?” he says, voice barely above a murmur, yet laced with venom.

The shock of his accusation takes a moment to process. Follow him? The idea is laughable, but his tone is anything but funny. This isn’t the same man who’d tangled himself with me four nights ago, whose hands on my skin had felt like fire. That man is a ghost, and in his place is someone cold, detached, dangerous in a way that makes me almost regret that night.

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “I should be asking you that.”

His jaw clenches, the muscle twitching as he stares me down. He looks me over, cataloging my injuries, as he lifts his hand, before snapping it back down to his side, like he realized he was about to touch me.

The intensity in his eyes is disconcerting; a storm ready to unleash itself, barely held back by the threads of control I can see slipping. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The question hangs heavy between us, and I bite back the urge to tell him just how absurd he sounds. I hadn’t even thought about him attending the academy; it hadn’t seemed remotely possible. Everyone looks like they are in their twenties. There’s no way of knowing who is actually twenty-two unless you’re human and actually age. Yet here he is, glaring down at me like I’m some intruder in his carefully constructed world. Anger simmers beneath my skin, and regret nudges its way into my chest.

Of all nights, why had I chosen that one to let my guard down?

I meet his gaze, refusing to look away, and let sarcasm drip from my words like acid. “I attend this academy, pendejo,” I snap, raising an eyebrow. “Igual que tú. Tonalli is huge. Get over it.”

His eyes narrow, and he leans in, his face close enough that I can see every hardened line etched into his expression. The fury behind those eyes is raw, barely contained, and it steals the air from my lungs. “Stay away from me,” he says, his voice a razor sharp whisper, each word edged with warning.

“With pleasure.” I grit out, fighting the snarl, wanting to release from my lips. But before I can turn away, someone’s voice cuts through the dining hall, clear and unmistakable.

“Príncipe Nazriel, over here!” He waves his hand back, adopting that same flirty smile he had with me in the tavern.

Are you fucking kidding me? He is such a manwhore.

Then I freeze, the words hanging in the air between us like a curse.

Príncipe… Nazriel? The weight of it crashes over me, leaving me rooted to the spot, as if reality itself has shifted. It feels like the world is tilting, twisting into something unrecognizable. My stomach lurches as I process the implication.

He’s the water prince?

He meets my eyes once more, daring me to react, to say anything. Before I can say a single word, he turns on his heel, striding away from me, leaving me reeling in the wake of this revelation. The finality of his departure feels like a slap, the sudden emptiness where he stood only amplifying the pounding in my chest.

The realization sinks in quick.

A prince—a man I have no business getting tangled in. Yet for a brief moment, he’d been just Rafael, a man with vulnerability in his eyes, a stranger who’d touched something raw inside me. Literally.

Now, that stranger is gone, replaced by Príncipe Nazriel, a man whose very name puts him out of reach.

I clench my fists, drawing in a shaky breath as I try to quell the storm raging within me. My brain screams at me to let it go, to forget, to chalk it up to one reckless, fleeting mistake. But the truth lingers, undeniable, scorching through my thoughts.

What if…he is the one who murdered me? It can’t just be a coincidence that the prince of Atlacoya was in Tepetl, even though he has never left his own kingdom? My eyes narrow as I find his gaze again.

Alright prince. Game, fucking, on.

I smile and dip my chin, letting him know that I’m ready for whatever he’s got. He returns the favor.

I’m in deeper than I ever intended to be.

The buzz of the dining hall returns, filling the silence he left behind, and I feel the weight of every passing gaze. I turn away, focusing on the tray of food in front of me, trying to drown out the chaos inside. But the memory of his touch, the way he’d looked at me that night, lingers, a ghost haunting the edges of my mind.

Here, in the sharp light of day, I know one thing for certain.

I was royally, completely, irreversibly fucked.