I stared up at the looming tower. Its stones were dark with age, wrapped in ivy that clung like veins. Windows stretched high into the gray sky, and at the very top, for a heartbeat, I saw it: a figure, shadowed, still, watching.
Was that… Corvin?
A chill crept down my spine. I blinked, and the window was empty. Just a trick of the light, I told myself. Or nerves.
I shook it off and started toward the entrance, boots crunching softly against gravel. My steps slowed the closer I came, then stopped. I stood before the heavy door. The handle was cool metal, worn smooth by years of hands before mine. I knew the truth before I touched it:
The moment I opened this door, my fate would no longer be my own.
"Are you going to stare at the door all day?" a voice asked.
Startled, I spun around, nearly dropping my folder. A man stood there, tall and slim in a charcoal-gray suit that looked too formal for this place, yet he wore it as if it belonged to him. His dark waves fell into stone‑blue eyes that were beautiful and unreadable.
He seemed more portrait than person, composed, still, unnervingly familiar.
"You startled me," I managed.
He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half‑smile. As I studied him, something tugged at the back of my mind, an echo of recognition I couldn't place.
"You're Eira," he said, as if that explained everything. "I'm Corvin Hale."
Before I could reply, his hand lifted, slow, deliberate, and brushed a stray red curl from my face. His fingers were cool, not ice‑cold, just… not warm. His touch was soft, practiced, and too familiar.
I froze under his gaze, torn between stepping back and leaning in. There was something in his expression, curiosity, maybe. Recognition? Like he saw something in me I hadn't discovered yet.
"I… um… yeah. Eira," I said, my voice tight.
"We are partners," he stated, his tone steady as he reached over my shoulder and eased the door open.
"I know," I whispered, stomach twisting into knots.
The door swung inward with a soft groan. I followed Corvin into the narrow corridor of Sublevel Three. The air smelled faintly of must and old paper, as if the walls themselves held forgotten secrets.
He paused, tilting his head. "Do you?" he asked.
"That's what the envelope said," I replied.
Partners… like we were destined to spend our lives together. I swallowed hard and walked on, each step echoing in the silence of my new world.
"Being bound to me won't be ordinary," he said with a dark chuckle that made my skin crawl. "Not safe… and especially will never be predictable."