The corridor was empty.
Lucian stood there for a moment, just breathing.
His ribs didn't hurt anymore. That was good.
The book in his hands felt heavy. Important. Maybe the only thing that could buy Seraphina time.
Four years.
I have four years to figure this out.
He started walking.
Made it maybe ten steps before his survival instincts kicked in.
Someone's watching me. He stopped. Turned slightly. And there she was.
Aria.
She stood near the intersection of two hallways. Not blocking his path. Just... there.
Waiting.
Her arms weren't crossed. She wasn't tapping her foot or glaring.
She just looked at him.
And her cheeks were puffed out slightly.
She's pouting at me?.
Aria Lighthollow—saint, healer, the girl who probably rescues injured birds in her spare time—is standing in the middle of the faculty corridor at dawn.
Pouting at him.
This is bad. This is so fucking bad.
The cute ones are always the most dangerous when they're disappointed.
