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Chapter 14

Rhyker

I walk just a few paces behind her, careful not to disturb the silence with even a whisper of my presence. Selestina moves with a quiet elegance, her posture straight but her steps hesitant, as though the weight of the day bears down on her shoulders. I can feel the heaviness in her every movement. Watching her like this… it’s impossible not to be drawn deeper into something I can barely name, something that makes me feel alive in a way I haven’t felt…ever.

From the moment she entered the academy yesterday, bloodied, limping, but with an unbreakable fire in her eyes, I’ve been unable to tear myself away.

Her face. Gods, it was like looking into a memory, one just out of reach, like an old song I should know but can’t quite place. She seems familiar, and yet I know I’ve never laid eyes on her before. If I had… how could I have forgotten a face like hers? Even now, the thought of it feels absurd. She’s etched in my mind like she’s always been there.

The glamour I’ve woven shields me from her eyes. I’ve watched her in both our classes, sitting in the back, every sense tuned to her, every minute detail committing itself to memory. Making myself visible only to our professors.

The way she scrunches her nose when she reads something fascinating, the way her eyes light up with understanding that makes her seem… softer, somehow. Every time her fingers brush a page, I feel this tug inside; a strange, inexplicable thrill, like something waiting to be set free.

She spends hours in the library, her concentration so intense it’s almost endearing. She searches through book after book, her face clouded with disappointment when she doesn’t find what she’s looking for. Something about ancient magic, I think, though it’s not like she’d tell me even if I revealed myself. Whatever she’s after, it consumes her, and I’m utterly taken by the way she seems to dive into her quest. I’ve never seen anyone so… driven. So unknowingly captivating.

Every glance, every furrowed brow, every small sigh—I drink it all in, savoring each detail. Gods, she has no idea I’m here, no idea I’ve shadowed her every move. The thrill of it, the danger of her almost sensing me but not quite, pulls at my core in a way that makes me feel alive. She’s not like anyone I’ve known, and the thought of getting closer, of being seen by her, sends a shiver down my spine.

Then reality crashes in, like a cold wash of rain. This is just a fantasy, a fleeting obsession. Nothing more.

Xochitlalpan waits for me, always. My home, my prison, my own personal hell. My father’s ruthlessness stretches over everything in my life, his power, his cruelty…I internally sigh at what waits for me back home.

My kingdom is a place of beauty, or so people say. Lush green fields, wildflowers that seem to grow forever, ancient trees that hold the wisdom of ages. The most grandest of waterfalls…better than those you would find in Atlacoya. But beneath it lies the rot, the fear, the endless scrutiny that defines every waking moment in my father’s court. The people are bound by him, just as I am, trapped by his whims, his rules, his power. Xochitlalpan is both a paradise and a prison, a land full of life but ruled by death. It’s a beautiful trap, and the thought of dragging her into it twists something inside me.

I shake myself, forcing those thoughts away, returning my attention to her as she walks. She’s nearly at her dorm now, her pace slowing, as if she, too, dreads what waits beyond her door. I smile, watching her glance around one last time, unaware that I stand so close, just out of reach. Gods, I’m already in too deep, bound by this strange fascination, this obsession. I could end it here, slip away, and never look back. But something holds me here, an invisible thread that pulls tighter each time I see her.

The halls are silent as I watch her disappear inside, and still, I linger, a ghost tethered to her steps.