“Thanks, Becks,” I mutter, already moving.
“I was thinking—” she starts.
“Wonderful. Let’s circle back to that later,” I say, brushing past her.
Yeah, it’s a dick move. But I’ve got bigger problems. I’ve lost sight of Rey’s driver.
I weave in and out of clusters of students, their voices rising in bursts—griping about professors, trading rumors about class assignments. It’s the usual first-day-of-school buzz, and I envy how easy it sounds. Like none of them have anything to protect. Nothing to lose, while I’m over here hunting the driver of the girl I loathe, dealing with daily breakdowns, and wondering why ice keeps appearing randomly in her presence when I’ve always been able to control it. But sure, yeah, that Human Anatomy class is gonna be rough.
A few minutes later, I catch a glimpse of him again—this time in the far corner of the room. He’s peeled away from the crowd, standing near the exit, hands in his pockets, pretending not to be watching anyone in particular.
But I know better.
I shift directions and head straight for him. There’s a tension in my shoulders I can’t shake, and the sooner I figure out what this guy wants, the sooner I can get back to my day.
He’s already seen me coming. Doesn’t flinch. Just shifts his weight slightly, like he was expecting this.
Good. Let’s get on with it.
I walk up to him, arms crossed. “You new?”
Of all the things I could have said, that’s what comes out?
His jaw twitches like he’s debating whether to answer. “Something like that.”
The guy’s got a slight accent—can’t place it—but what really stands out is his size. Not just tall. Broad. Built like a security detail for someone important. Muscles fight for their life beneath his black suit, and I can’t tell if he wants people to know he works out or if he just doesn’t care that his suit is tight and has better things to worry about.
I’d thought he was just a driver, maybe two-bit security. “Bodyguard?” I fish.
He doesn’t answer right away. Just keeps his eyes on Rey, who’s moved to talk to someone else now. Finally, he says, “Not for her.”
“Kind of creepy that you’re watching her so intently then, right?”
That gets his attention. He turns slowly. Cold, unbothered blue eyes meet mine. “Who says I’m watching her?”
“I do.”
A pause. Then a shrug. “I guess not everything is as it seems.”
My knuckles tense. I ignore the cold prickling my fingertips. “You’re wasting your time.”
His blue gaze slides to mine finally. “That depends. On how much time you’ve got left.”
There’s no malice in it. Just certainty. Like he’s already read the ending and I’m too stupid to skip ahead.
“You Erikson?” he asks, like it’s a dirty word. God, how I want to punch the smirk right off his face.
“Aric.”
His mouth twitches again. “Right. The heir.”
I bristle. Not at the title. At how easy it comes from his mouth. Like I’m just another one of Sigurd’s artifacts.
“Whatever you think you’re doing here—” I start.
He cuts me off with a tilt of his head. “Relax. I’m just observing. For now.”
I don’t like the implication. I like even less that Rey trusted him enough to smile at him like that. What the hell is wrong with me? Who cares who she smiles at?
