Elara should have listened.
That was the thought repeating in her head as she followed Kael beyond the torch-lit edges of the academy grounds, into a place where the air felt heavier and the shadows lingered too long.
She didn't know why she followed him.
Only that her feet moved before her fear could stop them.
"Stop following me."
His voice cut through the night without warning. Calm. Sharp. Controlled.
Elara froze.
Kael stood beneath the twisted branches of an ancient tree, his back to her, shadows stretching unnaturally at his feet. They didn't move like shadows should. They breathed. Curled. Waited.
"I—" Elara swallowed. "You told me not to get close."
Slowly, he turned.
Up close, the rumors made even less sense.
There was no cruelty in his eyes. What lived there was far worse—resignation. The look of someone who had already been judged and found guilty long before the trial began.
"That wasn't a challenge," Kael said. "It was mercy."
Elara's heart pounded, but she stepped closer anyway. "Why does everyone hate you?"
The shadows reacted instantly, rising, trembling—angry.
Kael's jaw tightened. "Because it's easier."
"For what?"
"For them," he snapped. Then, quieter, "To sleep at night."
Silence stretched between them, thick and fragile. Elara felt it then—the pull. Not magic. Something deeper. Like standing too close to a fire you were warned not to touch.
"You looked at me," she said softly. "In the rain. You knew I was there."
His gaze darkened. "I hoped you weren't."
"That's not an answer."
A bitter smile curved his lips, sharp and fleeting. "You ask questions that get people killed."
"Then why haven't you killed me?"
The words hung in the air.
Kael stepped forward. One step. Then another—until he was so close Elara could feel the heat of him, could sense the restrained violence beneath his stillness.
"Because," he said quietly, "you don't look at me like they do."
Her breath caught.
"And that," he continued, eyes searching her face as if he hated what he found there, "is dangerous."
For a moment, Elara thought he might touch her. The space between them burned with the possibility of it. Her pulse thundered in her ears. She hated that her body leaned toward him instinctively, as though it recognized something her mind didn't yet understand.
"You're afraid of me," she whispered.
"No," Kael said instantly.
Then his voice lowered. "I'm afraid for you."
The ground trembled.
From the darkness beyond the trees, something moved—wrong, hungry, ancient. Elara felt it before she saw it. A low growl echoed, not from a beast, but from the shadows themselves.
Kael reacted instantly.
He shoved Elara behind him, one arm outstretched, shadows snapping into place like armor. His power surged—dark, terrifying, beautiful in a way that made her chest ache.
"Stay behind me," he ordered.
The creature recoiled at his presence, hissing before melting back into the darkness.
When silence returned, Elara realized her hands were gripping the back of his coat.
She hadn't meant to touch him.
Kael stiffened.
Slowly, he looked down at her fingers—then at her face.
Something fractured in his expression.
"You shouldn't be here," he said hoarsely. "You shouldn't be near me. You definitely shouldn't feel safe touching me."
Elara didn't let go.
"Then why do I?"
For a heartbeat, the villain vanished.
All that remained was a man standing on the edge of something he had spent his life running from.
Kael gently removed her hands from his coat, as though afraid he might break her—or himself.
"Go back," he said. "Before the story swallows you too."
As he disappeared into the dark, Elara stood trembling, her heart racing—not from fear…
…but from the terrifying certainty that she had just fallen for the one person she was never meant to love.