I move to stand in front of him, pulling his face down to look at me. “What? What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, Nori. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking,” he says in a strained voice.
I pull back like he slapped me. If he’s regretting what we just did, I will burn this entire place down. “Don’t you dare apologize,” I warn. “Don’t act like this was a mistake. You don’t get to do that!”
A look of regret flickers in his eyes.
For a second, we just stand there. Sorrow etched in his features, anger pulsating in mine. This has been his tactic since the moment I stepped foot in this academy. He gives an inch and takes two back. I might have blinders on when it comes to him, but I’m not an idiot. I do not appreciate being treated like one. It feels like he’s purposely creating distance between us, something he’s never done before.
“It wasn’t a mistake,” he finally says, running a finger down my cheek. “Just bad timing. You’re a first-year, and I’m one of your captains. It shouldn’t have happened this way.”
I stare into his beautiful blue eyes, the same ones I’ve looked into countless times.
I’d give up everything. Everything. Just to live with this man by my side, no restrictions. And it seems like he’s pulling away, slipping between my fingers.
He leans down, gently placing a kiss on my forehead.
I close my eyes, bracing for the crushing blow I know is coming. A lump forms in my throat when he pulls back and retreats through the door, closing it on his way out. He doesn’t say anything. Just leaves.
Sorrow flows freely through my veins. To know what it feels like to be held in his arms and ravaged by his mouth only makes the cut that much deeper. I swallow the pain down and grab my cloak.
I need fresh air.
Frigid December air whips my hair around my face. I pull the cloak tighter around my shoulder and breathe in deeply through my nostrils. The urge to find somewhere secluded and just scream is overwhelming. Purge every emotion to the wind.
The gate creaks on its hinges as I push through. I cut through the training field and slip into the Witchwood. The damp ground is soft beneath my feet. Thick evergreen branches cluster together so tightly overhead that the sky disappears. The natural light dims as if a curtain has been drawn around me. The woods are offering me the solace I so desperately crave.
I’m not fooled, though. It’s always a give-and-take. These woods are no different.
I know they are perilous at best and can’t be trusted. I simply do not care at the moment. I want to forget. Forget how much I love a man who doesn’t want to be loved. I want to ignore the fact that I haven’t manifested. Disregard how awful I am in every single class. Dismiss the fact that a very broody Noctryn major despises me. I want to pretend that coming to Kintoira Academy wasn’t one big mistake.
The problem is, I’ve never been very good at pretending.
The forest is quiet. No wind, no rustle of branches. The only sounds are the random cawing of a raven in the distance and the soft crunch of my boots walking through the snow. This place devours all the noise in my head as well.
It’s beautiful and abysmal at the same time.
This kind of silence shatters your thoughts and amplifies your regrets.
A walking contradiction, just like me.
Pushing a low-hanging branch out of the way, I step off the beaten path through the foliage and walk through the undisturbed snow. I plop down on a fallen log, the wool of my cloak protecting me from the dampness.
Ambrose always says that when I get overwhelmed or angry, I hide. He often joked that’s why I was so introverted, because I’m usually overstimulated somehow. He isn’t wrong. Not really. Sometimes everything is just too… everything. Something is so liberating about just being alone. No judgment. No repercussions. Only redemptive isolation.
It’s certainly easy to do that here when everyone avoids me.
I kick the snow with my boot and tilt my head back. I scan the tree line for even a sliver of muted sky. Small patches break through the canopy like gray freckles coating the branches. I drum my fingers on the rough bark as I close my eyes.
One second, I’m enjoying the silence, and the next, hushed voices cause my ears to perk up. Seriously? I can’t even mope in peace?
I snap my head down and scan the surrounding area. The thick foliage hides me from view but also blocks whoever is walking this way. As the voices draw closer, I slip off the wet log, sliding into the snow. I try to make myself as small as possible. I don’t feel like dealing with conversation or explaining why I’m frolicking among the sticks. There’s also a very strong possibilitythat whoever it is doesn’t care for me very much, and I’m out here all alone.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” a male voice insists, urgency laced through each word.
A stick snaps in half. “I heard you. Allthreetimes,” another male replies. The second speaker sounds calm and collected, unlike the first. I don’t recognize either voice, but they’re speaking in hushed tones. It makes it hard to identify them.
“But you’re not taking this seriously,” the first one says, his voice dripping with disdain.
