Chapter 8
The week rolled on like a restless tide, yet Amara felt stuck in place. Every morning she joined the shuffle of students heading toward lectures, every afternoon she tried to lose herself in notes and assignments, but her mind carried a weight she couldn't shake.
Kael hadn't appeared in class since Tuesday. No glimpses in the lecture hall, no accidental crossings in the faculty hallway. Just absence, heavy and unexplained.
And absence had a way of birthing rumors.
By Friday, the whispers that had started in the hostel corridors had spilled over into the classroom. Amara caught them in stolen glances, in the way some girls nudged each other and smiled when she walked past, in the pauses of conversation that always resumed the moment she sat down.
It was Zainab who finally said it outright.
They were huddled over an unfinished assignment outside the faculty building, papers scattered on the cement bench. The sun was high, and Amara was trying to focus on formulas when Zainab leaned closer, lowering her voice.
"So…" she began, drawing the word out. "You and that new guy—Kael. What's really going on?"
Amara's pen slipped, leaving a dark streak across the margin. "What?"
"Don't 'what' me," Zainab said, smirking. "People say he hasn't been coming to class because of you. That maybe you're… distracting him."
Tolu, sitting across from them, giggled, though her eyes stayed fixed on Amara. "Honestly, Amara, I didn't believe it at first, but the way you react whenever his name comes up? Hmm."
Heat crept up Amara's neck. "That's ridiculous. I don't even talk to him."
"Lies," Zainab teased, tapping her pen against Amara's notebook. "Everyone saw him holding your hand that day."
Amara froze. She thought of the spark she'd felt when his skin touched hers, the strange pull in her chest, the mark on her wrist that still glowed in the dark. She tucked her hand under the table as if that would hide it.
"It wasn't like that," she said quietly. "You're all imagining things."
But even to her own ears, her denial sounded thin.
---
Back at the hostel that evening, the whispers followed her like shadows. The corridor was alive with laughter, the kind that always carried undertones of secrets. Amara kept her head down as she unlocked her door, but she could feel the eyes.
Ngozi looked up when she entered. She was curled on her bed with a textbook open, highlighter in hand. Her eyes, sharp from lack of sleep and stress, softened slightly at Amara's expression.
"Rough day?" she asked.
Amara dropped her bag on the floor and sighed. "You could say that."
Ngozi studied her for a moment, then said carefully, "The rumors are spreading, Amara. It's not just hostel talk anymore."
"I know." Amara sat heavily on her mattress, fingers pressing against her temples. "I don't even know what to say to people."
"Then tell me the truth." Ngozi's tone was steady, but her gaze was piercing. "Are you really involved with him?"
Amara's throat tightened. She wanted to spill everything—the bond, the mark, the dreams that left her gasping at night—but the words caught, strangled by fear.
"No," she whispered. "I'm not."
Ngozi searched her face, doubt flickering, but she didn't press. Instead, she closed her book with a sigh. "Well… sooner or later, it'll come out. Whatever it is."
The silence that followed was heavier than the gossip outside.
---
Kael, meanwhile, sat in the far corner of the library, pretending to read while his thoughts pulled him elsewhere. The bond pulsed faintly in his wrist, a tether that refused to let him forget her.
Every time Amara thought of him—he knew. It came as a flicker in his chest, a restless stirring that made focus impossible. And lately, it hadn't stopped.
He clenched his jaw, staring down at the unread words on the page. He had chosen to stay away for a reason. He had promised himself distance, control. But the bond didn't care about promises.
"You're doing it again," a voice said from across the table.
Kael looked up sharply. Alex was watching him, chin resting on one hand, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Doing what?" Kael asked.
"Staring at a page for half an hour without reading a single word," Alex replied smoothly. "Don't think I don't notice."
Kael closed the book with more force than necessary. "Mind your business."
Alex only raised an eyebrow. "My roommate broods in silence, skips lectures, and keeps sneaking out late at night. That makes it my business."
Kael's glare didn't move him. Alex leaned back in his chair, stretching casually, but his eyes never left Kael's face. "It's about her, isn't it? The girl everyone's talking about. Amara."
Kael stiffened before he could stop himself. That tiny hesitation was enough for Alex to grin.
"I knew it," Alex said softly. "You can't hide it forever."
---
That night, Kael lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Across the room, Alex was already asleep, his steady breathing filling the quiet. But Kael couldn't close his eyes.
The bond thrummed beneath his skin, restless, alive. He pressed his hand against it, trying to will it into silence, but it only pulsed harder—as if mocking him.
Memories stirred, unbidden. His first day here, walking into the hostel room with his guard up high, only to find Alex sprawled across the bed with an amused smile.
"You're the new guy?" Alex had asked. "Hope you're not the quiet, mysterious type. I can't stand those."
Kael had ignored him then, setting his bag down without a word. He had kept his distance, every movement cautious, every glance sharp. Alex had chuckled, but he hadn't pushed. Not that day.
But now, weeks later, the distance was closing in.
Kael shut his eyes, but it didn't help. The whispers of Amara's name in the corridors, the glances she drew, the memory of her wrist glowing faintly in the dark—it all returned, heavier with each beat of the bond.
And beneath it all was the warning he couldn't ignore:
If people noticed too much, if they looked too closely, the secret he carried—and the danger it invited—would no longer stay hidden.
For the first time since arriving, Kael wondered if keeping his distance was enough.
Because Amara was already at the center of it.