Page 22

Chapter 21

Selestina

I move quietly through the academy grounds, my footsteps light on the cobblestones as I follow Eztli Moreno. He’s heading toward the training fields, his pace steady and his posture relaxed. He doesn’t seem like someone who’s concerned about being followed. Good. I stay far enough back, keeping to the shadows, just another presence in the night.

Eztli is a fortress of calm, his movements precise, as if he’s always calculating his next step. I keep my distance, watching, observing. He's taller than most, with that kind of build that makes him stand out even when he is trying to fade in. He only seems like an idiot, and I am not quite sure how he is the next in line to command armies at Metztli's will.

I have been following him for days, learning his habits, his routines. He’s always so predictable, but tonight feels different. He takes a sudden turn that leads toward the edge of the forest, away from the academy's safety. My heart quickens. This is new.

Is he meeting someone ?

I follow, my breath steady, my body moving on instinct.

I round the bend just in time to see Eztli come to a stop in the middle of the path. Standing still as a stone, as if listening for something. My blood runs cold, and I freeze.

What is he doing?

Suddenly, Eztli spins, his eyes scanning the path behind him, and my heart slams into my chest. He's staring right at me. I stand stock still; I stop breathing, but the air crackles with tension. My heart booms in my ears while a wave of panic wells up through me.

How did he know I was here?

His gaze locks on mine. Dark, intense, piercing, and for one second I am sure I’ve been caught. My brain scrambles to formulate some sort of plan. Should I run? Fight? I have time for neither.

But then…nothing happens.

He blinked once, his eyes narrowing slightly, and then he turned away, continuing down the path as if he hadn't seen me at all. My breath catches in my throat, and I stand there, frozen, trying to process what just happened.

Did he really not see me?

I turn around, the darkness thick around me, but there's no one else here. No witnesses. My skin prickles with unease. Slowly, I raise my hand in front of my face, to try to make sense of why Etzli didn't react to me. My heart stops when I see it.

Shadows.

Dark tendrils of shadows wrap around my arm, twisting, curving, curling around my fingers. They dig into my skin, wrapping within, hiding in their clasp.

What is happening? Is this another nightmare? I pinch my cheek, but nothing happens. This doesn’t feel like a dream. I bend down to touch the gravel; it feels real beneath my touch. I slowly stand back up.

I stare at my hand, my breath coming in shallow gasps. This isn’t possible. Only demonios can manipulate shadows like this. Only demonios have this kind of power. I’m human. I’ve always been human.

But the shadows don’t lie. They pulse around me, a dark, inky blackness that feels strangely familiar, as if they’ve always been there, waiting to be summoned.

This can’t be happening. I step back, my heart racing. The shadows follow my movements, shifting with me, blending me into the night. That’s why Eztli couldn’t see me. I wasn’t just hiding. I was invisible, wrapped in shadow.

I should feel relieved, maybe even empowered, but all I feel is panic. How is this possible? I’ve never had any abilities like this. I’m an assassin, trained in stealth, in combat, not magic. Not shadow manipulation.

Fuck. It’s then that the memory of my murder comes back to the forefront of my mind. A memory I shoved way the fuck away this past month. Clearly not healthy, but eh? I never said I was sane.

I pull my hand closer to my face, staring at the swirling darkness. It feels…wrong. Like it doesn’t belong. Like it’s not mine.

“Breathe,” I whisper to myself, my voice trembling. “Just breathe.”

I need to think. I need to focus. If Eztli didn’t see me, that means I’m still safe. For now. But this changes everything.

I take a shaky breath and lower my hand, the shadows still clinging to me. I don't understand what's happening, but I also can't afford to fall apart, not with Etzli still ahead of me, not with Alexander's orders hanging over my head like a guillotine.

I'm not really aware of when I lose my breath, but it's happening again. That tightness in my chest, the rush of blood pounding in my ears, it all floods back like a tidal wave. My heart races and races, faster and faster, like it's trying to claw its way out of my chest.

I stumble through the academy’s dimly lit hallways, each shadow growing longer and more suffocating with every step. My thoughts spiral out of control; everything—it’s too much. My vision starts to blur, my legs tremble as I force myself to keep moving.

I just need to breathe. I just need to get to my dorm.

My pulse booms in my head, and I press a hand to my chest, trying to force air into my lungs. Why does everything feel so wrong? Why does it feel like I'm drowning? My chest is doing that thing again, but I can't stop it. I can't slow down.

I see my door through the haze and quickly step in, shutting the door and sliding down it, willing my lungs to even out.

Not even five seconds in my dorm, and a loud banging erupts from the door. Oh shit, I am caught. How is that possible? Standing up, I smooth my skirt, open the door and barely have time to register what transpires before Nazriel is barging into my room. I spin around, glaring at him as he stands in my dorm room, looking every inch a thunderstorm in human form.

“What the hell, Nazriel?” I snap. “Ever heard of knocking?”

My heart starts racing for another reason.

Maybe I will die; for real this time.

He slams the door behind him and stalks toward me. His jaw is tight and his eyes are dark and furious. “What have you done to me?”

I freeze for a second, his words catching me off guard. “Done to you?” I echo, pulling a sweatshirt on and narrowing my eyes at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He crosses the room in a few long strides, stopping just inches from me. “I can't get you out of my head,” he growls, low and dangerous. “No matter what I do, you're always there. In my thoughts, in my dreams. It's like a fucking curse.”

I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms over my chest. “So, naturally, your first conclusion would be that I am a witch and enthralling you? You've got to be kidding me,” I mutter, as my eyes hit the ceiling to let out a long sigh. I'm literally going through my own crisis, and this fuckface just has to come in and add fuel to the fire.

His eyes flash, and he points an accusing finger at me. “You’re hiding something. You never go to the same places, always looking everywhere. You’re more alert than some of our fucking soldiers. There’s something about you, Selestina, and I’m not the only one who sees it.”

I snort. “Oh, please. If I could curse you, don't you think I'd have done something a lot more creative than making you think about me all the time?” My eyes narrow. “And how do you know what routes I take? Sounds like you are the fucking creepy stalker.” What is with these princes and stalking me?

“Maybe that's precisely the point,” he snaps. “Keep me off balance. Distract me. You're trying to weaken me, and I won't let that happen.” Wholly disregarding the latter. He takes another step forward. His chest is rising fast, in pace with his breath inches from my face. It takes me back to the tavern when I looked in those ocean eyes. How this man, this frantic man, made feel safer than I’ve ever felt in my entire existence. I let the moment hang on for as long as it can before being weird. I snap myself out of the haze.

I roll my eyes and step back, only to put some space between us. “You are paranoid. If you can't handle your own emotions, that's on you, Príncipe Nazriel.” I hiss out his title. “Don't go throwing around accusations because you've got some weird obsession you can't control.”

His jaw clenches, and the muscles tick. “You think this is a joke?” He takes a step closer once more, and I bump into the wall behind me. “You think because you took my cock, I wouldn’t suspect you? You think I wouldn’t see right through you.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Maybe you're just projecting your little secret agenda onto me. You ever think of that?” I feel my own breaths quickening as the space between us keeps closing.

His hands slam against the wall on either side of my head, caging me in. My heart leaps, but I refuse to show it. “You have no idea what you're messing with, Selestina.” Not who, but what .

I meet his gaze, unflinching. “I could say the same to you, Príncipe.”

For a moment, we just stand there, the tension between us thick, electric. His chest rises and falls quickly, like he's barely holding himself together. And then, before I can react, he's on me, his lips crashing against mine with a fierce and desperate hunger.

His hands move to my waist, pulling me against him, and I can feel how turned on he is. I should push him away, I should stop this. I don't, though. Instead, I press my lips to his just as fiercely, my fingers tangling into his hair to pull him closer.

It is overwhelming, an inferno that engulfs me whole, with a sense of urgency. He kisses me like he is trying to sear the memory of me into his brain, to forget whatever he has been fighting.

Then, in a split second, he releases me, breathing hard, eyes untamed. “Damn it,” he mutters, stepping back, running a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Damn you.”

I'm still leaning up against the wall, gasping for air, as my heartbeat increases. “You kissed me.” I remind him.

His eyes are frantic, a mix between anger and heat. I don’t know why that sends a jolt straight to my core. My vagina is a fucking traitor . “This is what I am talking about. You. You're messing with my head.”

I laugh, despite the tingling taste of him on my lips. “You kissed me, Nazriel. That wasn't exactly part of my master plan to ruin you.”

He clenches his fists, retreating another step, as if he cannot trust himself to be near me. “Stay away from me, Selestina. I'm warning you.”

“Stay away?” I shake my head, throwing my hands in the air. “You're the one who stormed into my room, remember?”

Am I talking to a brick wall?

He spins, heading for the door. But before he leaves, he looks over his shoulder, his face torn between frustration and something deeper.

Then, in a flash, he's gone, leaving me alone in the room, my heart still pounding in my chest.

I touch my lips, still tingling from the ghost of his kiss, and shake my head; a small smile tugs at the corners of my mouth .

Realizing that Nazriel made me completely forget about my panic attack, I sigh, pushing that thought straight the fuck to the back of my head, and grab my books to sit on my bed.

Midterms and the first trial are coming up in the next month, and with me being ahead in all my classes, that doesn't mean I can slack off and not make sure I ace those tests. I chug down the coffee from this morning in my canteen, that tastes like total shit but much needed, and open up my books.