The morning sunlight filtered through the heavy curtains of the dorm room, spilling across the floor in broken streaks. Aurelia stirred beneath her blankets, the faint toll of the bell tower drawing her reluctantly into wakefulness. She rolled onto her side, squinting at the antique clock ticking on the desk. Six o'clock.
Her roommate, Elena, was already awake. She was perched cross-legged on her bed, brushing out her hair with a little too much cheer for the hour.
"You're finally up," Elena chirped. "I thought you might actually sleep through the bells today."
Aurelia groaned. "I could have."
"Well, get used to it," Elena said, tying her hair with a ribbon before hopping down from her bed. "St. Augustine doesn't really tolerate lateness. They'll mark you, and the teachers are merciless about it. Especially in Literature."
"Good to know," Aurelia muttered, dragging herself upright.
They dressed quickly, slipping into the uniform of the academy—pressed white shirt, black blazer trimmed with silver, plaid skirt that hit just above the knee. Aurelia stared at her reflection in the cracked mirror by the wall, tugging at the stiff collar. Somehow, she always looked like she didn't belong, like the clothes were wearing her instead of the other way around.
Elena noticed. "You'll fit in soon. You just need to stop frowning all the time."
"I'm not frowning."
"You kind of are." Elena giggled, linking her arm through Aurelia's as they stepped into the hallway.
The corridors of St. Augustine were quiet at this hour, lined with tall windows that let in cold shafts of light. The stone walls carried whispers, footsteps echoing as other students hurried toward the Great Hall for breakfast.
Aurelia trailed after Elena, absorbing the details, the smell of old wood, the faint dust that clung to the air, the portraits of solemn-faced saints glaring down from their gilded frames. The school seemed to press in on her, watching.
"Hey," Elena whispered suddenly, nudging her. "Careful who you run into today. Cecilia Roth is in a mood."
Aurelia groaned softly. "Again? I've done nothing to her."
"That's kind of the problem," Elena said with a shrug. "She hates not being noticed. And since you bumped into her on your first day, she's made it her mission to keep you under her thumb."
Aurelia rolled her eyes. "Wonderful."
They entered the Great Hall, where long wooden tables stretched across the vast space beneath vaulted ceilings. Candles floated overhead, suspended in iron chandeliers that flickered against the stone. The room buzzed with chatter, though pockets of silence lingered where certain groups sat in studied aloofness.
Cecilia sat at the far end of one table, her golden hair gleaming like a crown. Her clique surrounded her, laughing too loudly at something she said. When her gaze caught Aurelia's, her smile sharpened, as if cutting across the room.
Aurelia looked away quickly, heart thudding.
Breakfast passed without incident, though Aurelia could feel Cecilia's eyes lingering like cold fingertips on her back. When the meal was done, the girls drifted to their separate classes. Elena walked with Aurelia until their schedules split.
"Meet you at lunch," Elena called, flashing her a grin.
Aurelia found her Literature class tucked into one of the oldest wings of the school. The room smelled of parchment and ink, its shelves crammed with worn tomes. She slid into a desk near the window, trying to appear invisible.
But invisibility was not on her side today.
Halfway through the lesson, while Professor Alden droned about Milton and the fall of man, Aurelia felt it—that shift in the air, that ripple of awareness she had experienced once before. Her skin prickled, her breath caught.
Someone had entered the room.
She didn't need to look to know it was him.
Lucian.
The boy whose presence made the world tilt. The one Elena had warned her about. The one whose name lingered in the air like smoke.
He strode into the class late, unapologetic. The professor barely scolded him, as though lateness were expected. His tall frame cut a striking silhouette against the pale light of the windows, his dark hair falling carelessly across his forehead. He didn't look at anyone, yet everyone looked at him.
He moved past Aurelia's desk, the faintest brush of air stirring as he passed. For a heartbeat, she thought she imagined the flicker of his gaze toward her..sharp, knowing, almost dangerous.
Her stomach tightened.
Lucian sat at the back of the class, sprawling in his chair as though the world owed him its patience.
Aurelia tried to focus on the professor's words, but it was useless. Her attention kept darting back to Lucian, though she told herself not to. She didn't even know him. And yet, she could feel him.
When the lesson ended, she gathered her books quickly, desperate to escape before he noticed her again. But fate..or something else was not on her side.
As she turned into the hall, she nearly collided with him.
Her books scattered across the floor. She knelt quickly, muttering a curse under her breath, but before she could reach for them, a pale hand scooped one up.
"Careful," a low voice murmured.
Her gaze shot up and froze.
Lucian was looking at her. Directly.
His eyes were an unsettling shade, gray shot through with hints of storm, fixed on her with an intensity that rooted her to the ground.
"You're Aurelia," he said softly.
She blinked, shock flooding her veins. "How—how do you know my name?"
He smiled faintly, but it wasn't kind. It was sharp, amused, as though he knew something she didn't.
"I know more than names," he replied.
Her pulse quickened. "That's… creepy."
His smile widened a fraction. "Maybe." He handed her the book, his fingers brushing hers just long enough to send a shiver crawling up her arm.
She snatched it back, standing to her full height even though her voice wavered. "You're mean."
The words slipped out before she could stop them. Heat rose in her cheeks, but she held his gaze stubbornly.
For a long moment, Lucian just studied her, his expression unreadable. Then he laughed,a low, hollow sound that echoed in the corridor.
"Maybe I am," he said, and with a languid turn, he walked away, leaving her rooted in place.
Aurelia clutched her book tightly to her chest, heart hammering. She didn't know whether she wanted to run after him or run far, far away.
Elena's warning replayed in her mind like a curse: Stay away from him.
But Aurelia already knew it wouldn't be that simple.