Chapter 7
Elara didn't argue with Lucien's warning, but she didn't fully accept it either. Something about the way he spoke—careful, controlled—made her feel like he was hiding more than he was willing to reveal.
By the time she returned to her dorm, Mira nearly tackled her with worry.
"Elara! Are you okay? Lucien said you fainted—wait, why were you with him after!?"
Elara sank onto her bed. "I'm fine. Just… overwhelmed."
Mira paced frantically. "Lucien Vale carried you out of the courtyard like some dark prince of doom! Everyone saw!"
Elara groaned. "Mira, please."
"No! This is serious." Mira sat beside her. "Elara, the whispers, the blood, the fainting spell—this is connected. And Lucien keeps showing up right when everything goes wrong."
Elara didn't deny it.
But her thoughts were tangled with something else.
When she had awakened in the library, there had been a moment—tiny but undeniable—where Lucien looked almost… worried.
Was that possible?
A soft tap hit their window.
Both girls froze.
Mira whispered, "Please tell me that was a bird."
Elara swallowed. "Birds don't knock."
The tap came again—gentle, deliberate.
Elara felt the wall beside her tremble.
"…Don't look…"
"…Don't let it see you…"
Her heartbeat spiked.
Mira reached for a flashlight, raising it like a weapon. "Elara, step back."
But Elara didn't move. Something outside was calling her—silent, heavy, dark.
Slowly, she walked toward the window.
"Elara, NO!"
Elara ignored the fear twisting in her stomach. She drew the curtain aside.
Her breath stopped.
A tall shadow stood outside—lean, distorted by the night. Not a person. Too thin. Too wrong. Its arms were long enough to reach the window frame. Its head tilted unnaturally, as if studying her through the glass.
No eyes.
Just darkness.
Mira screamed.
Elara stumbled backward, but the shadow didn't move. It just… watched.
The whispers surged violently.
"IT HAS AWAKENED—RUN—RUN—RUN—RUN—"
"Elara, do something!" Mira cried.
Elara grabbed her phone with shaking hands. "We need help—"
The hallway door burst open.
Lucien stood there—breathing hard, eyes glowing red like burning embers.
"Elara," he said, voice low and urgent, "step away from the window."
She backed up immediately.
Lucien didn't ask permission. He strode across the room, grabbed the window frame, and slammed it shut so hard the glass rattled.
Mira clung to the bed. "What is that thing!?"
Lucien didn't answer her.
"Elara," he murmured, eyes still fixed on the shadow outside, "did it touch you? Did it speak to you?"
Elara shook her head quickly. "No. I swear."
Lucien exhaled slowly—as if relieved.
Then he turned toward her fully.
"The thing you saw," he said, voice grave, "is not from this world. It should not be awake yet."
Yet.
Elara's stomach clenched.
"What does it want from me?" she whispered.
Lucien's eyes softened, only slightly. "Everything."
The shadow outside scraped its long fingers across the window.
Lucien stepped in front of Elara protectively.
"You're not safe here anymore," he said.
For the first time, there was no coldness in his voice.
Only fear.
Fear for her.
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