The library chaos didn't end when Aria walked out — it followed her like a shadow that refused to fall behind.
Students whispered. Teachers fussed.
But what stuck with her wasn't the fallen shelves or the flying books.
It was the looks on Killian and Lucien's faces.
The shock.
The tension.
The way both of them looked almost… betrayed.
By her.
Or each other.
She didn't know.
All she knew was that the note in her pocket felt heavier now, like it carried more than ink.
Like it carried truth.
---
She Needed Answers
By lunch she couldn't think straight. She slipped away from the cafeteria, heading toward the one place no one ever went during storms — the old music room in the north wing.
The hallway was dim. The windows shook. Thunder crawled along the sky like a living thing.
Aria shut the music room door behind her and finally pulled out the parchment.
The edges were jagged, burnt at one corner.
The ink looked… old, like it came from a fountain pen dipped in midnight.
STOP LETTING THEM PULL YOU APART.
She placed it on the piano bench and touched the writing.
It wasn't just a warning.
It felt like a message from someone who knew more than they should.
Aria flipped it over.
Nothing.
But when she held it to the light—
Something faint appeared.
Tiny indent marks.
Not writing.
Scratches.
Like someone had pressed a second message underneath but never fully wrote it.
She squinted.
D… o… n't… tr… u…
The rest was unreadable.
Her stomach dropped.
Don't trust who?
Killian?
Lucien?
Someone else?
She reached into her bag and pulled out a pencil, lightly rubbing it over the surface like she had seen detectives do in movies.
More letters formed, shaky and uneven.
Don't trust… him.
Her breath froze.
Thunder boomed outside like the sky was warning her too.
"Him" could be either of them.
Or the person who wrote the message.
She needed to think.
But she didn't get the chance.
---
The Door Clicked
She turned slowly.
Lucien stood in the doorway.
Dripping from the rain.
Hair wet, falling into his eyes.
Expression unreadable — but sharper than usual.
"How did you find me?" she whispered.
He closed the door behind him quietly.
"You weren't in the cafeteria. You weren't in class. You weren't anywhere people are." His eyes traced the room. "So I checked where people aren't."
She stepped protectively in front of the parchment.
Lucien noticed.
His gaze flicked down.
"What's that?"
"Nothing."
"Aria." A faint edge entered his voice. "You're hiding something."
"And you're not?" she shot back.
Silence.
Lucien took one slow step forward.
Not threatening — but intentional.
Measured.
"You almost got crushed today," he said softly. "You think I don't care?"
She swallowed. "You and Killian were both right there."
His expression didn't change, but something in his eyes did — something like hurt.
"You think I pushed it?" he asked quietly.
Her pulse spiked. "I don't know what to think."
Lucien's jaw tightened. "Then let me make one thing clear. I would never hurt you."
Her heart stuttered — not because of romance, but because she didn't know if she could believe him.
Or if believing him was the dangerous part.
Lucien's eyes dropped again to the parchment behind her.
Then slowly lifted to her face.
"Aria… what exactly are you hiding from me?"
She opened her mouth—
But the door slammed open so violently the glass rattled.
Killian.
Hair messy.
Face flushed.
Breathing hard like he'd been running.
"Aria— don't be alone with him."
Lucien's expression turned from confusion to cold steel in an instant.
Killian stepped inside, locking the door behind him.
"You need to leave," Killian said, voice low and shaking.
Lucien took a step forward. "Not without her."
Killian's eyes flashed. "I'm not talking to you."
Aria's heartbeat hammered.
"Stop!" she shouted. "Both of you— stop acting like you own me!"
Neither moved.
Neither blinked.
Then Killian said the one sentence that shattered the room:
"Aria, I know who wrote the note."
Silence collapsed on everything.
Lucien's eyes widened a fraction. "What note?"
Aria inhaled sharply.
Killian pointed at the parchment behind her.
"The handwriting…" he swallowed, voice cracking strangely, "I've seen it before."
Lucien's voice dropped to a deadly quiet.
"Where?"
Killian looked at Aria.
Not Lucien.
"At home," he whispered. "In my mother's old journals."
Aria felt the ground tilt.
His mother?
Why would she write something to Aria?
Unless—
Unless someone else wrote it in those journals too.
Lucien's expression darkened, eyes narrowing.
"Killian," he said slowly, "what aren't you telling us?"
Killian took a shaking breath.
"My family…"
He closed his eyes.
"…has secrets."
Aria clutched the parchment so tightly it crumpled.
Because deep down, she felt it:
This wasn't just about jealousy.
Or school.
Or two boys obsessed with her.
This was bigger.
Older.
Darker.
And the person who warned her…
Might be the only one who truly knew the danger.