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I would avoid her, I resolved firmly. Our paths need never cross again.
CHAPTER5
Sera
The musty hallsof Blackthorn Academy pressed in around me as I hurried to my first class of the new term. Lost in anxious thought, I didn’t notice the foot stuck out to trip me until it was too late. My books went flying as I crashed hard onto the cold stone floor.
Cruel laughter rang out, the sound scraping like shards of glass across my nerves. I looked up, dread pooling in my stomach at the achingly familiar faces sneering down at me—Drazhan and his circle of tormentors.
“Welcome back, Sera,” Drazhan drawled mockingly. “Had a nice trip?”
The poisonous tingling of humiliation flooded my veins, far eclipsing the sting of torn palms and knees. Of course, he would seize this chance to twist the knife of last year’s scandal. I scrambled to gather my scattered books, desperate to escape the weight of his piercing blue stare.
But Drazhan only pressed closer, grinding his boot heel into my charms textbook, marring its leather cover. “Oops. Clumsy me,” he laughed coldly. His sycophants joined in, shoving each other and cackling.
Blinded by frustrated tears, I reached for the damaged text. Drazhan’s strong fingers closed around my wrist, rooting me in place. “Careful now,” he purred with false concern. “Wouldn’t want any moreaccidents.”
His touch seared my skin, remembering a time when it had promised love instead of malice. I wrenched free with a gasp, blinking back furious tears as I leapt to my feet. Without a backward glance, I fled down the corridor, their jeering voices chasing after me.
I arrived in class shaking, my whirling thoughts in chaos. I had known facing Drazhan again would be difficult, but the venom in his cruelty still shocked me. How could someone once so tender and devoted now find only pleasure in causing me pain?
Taking my seat, I fought to rein in the typhoon of hurt swirling within. I would not let him see how deep his blows struck. He may have broken my heart, but I refused to shatter completely.
As I slid into the desk chair beside Lily, my emotions still roiled dangerously close to the surface. Sensing my distress, her small hand folded over mine.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, cornflower eyes searching my face.
I lowered my voice, quickly relaying the cruel ambush by Drazhan in the hall. With each bitter detail unveiled, Lily’s soft features hardened, eyes flashing icy fire.
“That snake!” she hissed through gritted teeth. “Don’t spare him another thought, Sera. Drazhan’s cruelty says far more about his withered soul than yours.” She huffed. “That demon will get what’s coming to him someday.”
I shivered, unnerved by the casual malice in her voice. But then she wrapped me in a fierce hug, cooing for comfort. I dismissed the vengeful comment as stemming from her protective anger on my behalf.
Before I could respond, Professor O’Connor stormed through the door, commanding the class to attention. Lily and I shared a warm smile before we faced forward, our conversation cut short. My turmoil eased just having her steadfast support for me. With friends, like her by my side, I could weather any darkness stalking these halls.
The murmur of students quieted as Professor O’Connor swept through the lecture hall, his burgundy robes billowing behind him. He cut an imposing figure—tall and thin, with a neatly trimmed red beard stark against his pale face. His piercing green eyes surveyed the class from behind small round spectacles as he strode to the front.
“Welcome to Lost Lore and Legends,” he announced, his voice rich and resonant. “In this class, we will explore mysteries lost to time, secret histories, and forgotten truths.”
Murmurs of excitement rippled through the hall. The professor’s reputation preceded him—he not only studied ancient scrolls and texts believed to be myth, but he’d also led the great exploration of the forbidden crypts below the Citadel of Riveshade, searching for the cursed tomb of an ancient lich king. The bloke was theIndiana Jonesof Blackthorn’s body of teachers.
“Today,” the professor continued, “we’ll examine the myth of the Gargoyle: stone guardian, and protector of secrets.” The professor dimmed the lights, illuminating a projected image of a fearsome gargoyle. Its stony visage was twisted in a ferocious snarl.
His words struck a chord within me, resonating deeply, like the echo of a forgotten dream. I flashed back to my strange encounter just the night before, to the courtyard shrouded in mist... the heavy beat of leathery wings... and piercing eyes flashing in the darkness.
I couldn’t stop thinking of his chiseled features, intense gaze, and that air of power and sorrow about him that seemed ancient beyond reckoning. This mysterious gargoyle had saved my life in a blink.
The professor’s lecture seemed almost fated, unlocking that brief but inexplicable encounter from the realm of restless dreams back into startling reality.
What forbidden secrets might this alluring guardian hold? I leaned forward, suddenly desperate to know more.
“Most believe gargoyles are mere decorations,” Professor O’Connor continued, “yet myths tell of a hidden lineage with immense powers, charged with safeguarding magical places from those who would misuse them.”
As the class progressed, I found myself completely immersed, oblivious to the hollow ache in my chest.
Suddenly, the bell chimed. A wave of trepidation washed over me. I had to make it to the next class without incident. Heart racing, I gathered my things, hoping to get lost in the crush of students flooding the halls. Safety lay in anonymity.
But luck was not on my side. A chorus of snickers made my blood run cold as I stepped into the hallway. Drazhan and his friends blocked the stairwell, their taunting sneers freezing me in place.
