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Chapter 17

Selestina

I t’s been a couple of weeks since classes started, and somehow, I’ve settled into a strange but oddly comforting routine. Every morning begins the same way, a run along the edge of the academy grounds, the cool air biting at my skin and the quiet hum of the waking world surrounding me. And every morning, without fail, Matheus joins me.

He never says anything, and neither do I. He used to keep a few steps behind, there but not there, like a shadow following me. We now run side by side. There's something stabilizing about it, though I couldn't quite explain why.

We don’t have combat today. Matheus waits just outside of the training grounds while I grab my bag and walk to my dorm, where, like clockwork, he'll finally leave, jogging away toward his own dorm. This happens every time that we don’t have class. It gives me a weird sense of warmth but also dread. It feels protective without getting attached, and for whatever reason, that leaves me with a knot in my throat.

We haven't spoken a word to each other since that moment in the library, but every morning, he's there, like the rising of the sun. I keep telling myself it doesn't matter, but inside, I know it does.

I take a step into my dorm. The air's a lot warmer inside, and I'm greeted by a rather unusual sight, Nasarea awake.

She looks up from where she's perched on the edge of her bed, her long black curls tumbling over one shoulder. Her eyes narrow, and without a word, she rises, grabs her bag, and storms past me, slamming the door behind her with a force that rattles the walls.

I scoff, muttering under my breath, “Good morning to you, too.”

Shrugging off the encounter, I grab my clothes and head for the shower. Water scalding, just the way I like it, it chases the lingering chill from my run. The small space quickly fills with steam that curls around me like a warm cocoon. Quickly and methodically, I scrub, the routine a welcome distraction from the ever present hum of thoughts in my head.

Once I'm dressed, I pull on a pair of tights and lace up my boots. The leather wraps my calves, as familiar as it is steady, preparing me for whatever today may hit me with. I turn the last buckle as I swing the door open and stride right into a solid wall of muscle.

The impact jars me, and I stumble back a step, catching myself against the doorframe. “Oh shit. Sorry,” I mumble, looking up. My apology freezes on my tongue when I realize exactly who I've run into.

The fae prince, Rhyker.

His bright green eyes glint with mischief, and his shaggy brown hair falls just past his ears in deliberate disarray. The smirk spreads lazily on his face, self-assured, as if he's entertained by my misstep.

I cross my arms, tilting my head to glare at him. “Actually, no. What are you doing standing right in front of my door, creep?”

Rhyker doesn't say anything right away, just leans against the doorframe, his smirk deepening like he's savoring some private joke. It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes.

When it's clear he's not going to explain himself, I scoff and push past him toward the dining hall. I'm not going to waste my morning entertaining whatever game he's playing. The halls are quieter now, most students still dragging themselves out of bed. My boots click against the stone floor in a steady rhythm as I make my way along the familiar path.

But then I notice him trailing just behind me. Not subtly, either. He's walking close enough that I can feel the warmth of his presence, like he's deliberately making it impossible to ignore him.

I stop abruptly, spinning on my heel to face him. “Excuse me?” I wave a hand in front of his face. “Earth to the stalker. What are you doing?”

He doesn't answer. Instead, he chuckles, a deep rich sound that grates against my patience, and steps past me, continuing down the hall as if nothing happened. His stride is unhurried, his posture loose, like he has all the time in the world.

I stand there for a moment, watching him disappear around the corner, my annoyance simmering just below the surface. “Freaking weirdo,” I mutter under my breath before continuing on toward the dining hall .

The hall is busy now, students huddled in small clumps at long wooden tables, their chatter merging into a dull roar. The scent of fresh bread and spiced tea fills the air, intermingling with the more acid tang of coffee. I get a plate quickly and choose a spread that is starting to become my normal order: chocolate chip pancakes, ketchup with a side of eggs, and a steaming mug of coffee with more milk and sugar than coffee, settling down into my quiet corner of the dining hall.

For a few blissful moments, I focus on the food before me, allowing the ordinary act of eating to muffle the din around me. But with each sip of coffee, the memory of Rhyker's smirk, or the way Matheus lingers in the mornings, or the countless other moments coil around me.

I take another sip of coffee, letting the warmth settle in my chest. Whatever today brings, I’ll be ready.