Chapter 8

• Zara’s POV
• I didn’t even make it halfway down the corridor before Atlas found me. Talia had told me she needed to use the restroom so we separated.
• It wasn’t like I didn’t hear him coming, his boots echoed on the stone floor like a drum — but somehow, I thought maybe if I kept walking, kept my head down, he’d just let it go. He didn’t.
• “Zara.”
• His voice. Low and rough.
• I kept walking.
• “Zara!”
• A hand clamped around my wrist, pulling me back so fast I stumbled. My back hit the wall with a soft thud, the cold stone biting through my uniform. His hand braced beside my head, his other still gripping my wrist.
• His eyes — gods, his eyes.
• That stormy gray, swirling with something I couldn’t read. Anger? Confusion? Hunger?
• I didn’t know. But it left me breathless.
• “Let go of me,” I said, trying to sound steady.
• He didn’t.
• “What the hell are you really doing here?” His voice was harsh, but not loud, like he didn’t want the others to hear. Like this was our secret.
• I glared up at him. “What does that even mean?”
• His fingers tightened. Just enough that I felt it, sharp and real.
• “You shouldn’t be here. At Blackwood. You shouldn’t be anywhere near me.”
• “Why? Because you say so?”
• “Yes because I said so.”
• I laughed. A shaky, bitter sound. “You don’t tell me what to do. In case you hadn’t noticed, I didn’t exactly ask to be here.”
• His jaw clenched. His grip shifted, not tighter, but firmer, like he was trying to keep me still, keep me from slipping through his fingers.
• “You don’t understand—”
• “Then explain it!”
• His breath hitched. For a second, the storm in his eyes calmed, just a fraction.
• But then his hand on my wrist…It did hurt.
• “Let go of me. You’re hurting me,” I said, voice low, biting off each word.
• His eyes widened , just a second, and his hand fell away like I’d burned him.
• I rubbed my wrist, glaring at him, but my heart was hammering so loud I swore he could hear it.
• We stood there. Close enough to each other. Too close.
• Neither of us spoke. The tension wrapped us both, pulling, and pulling.
• Until the sound of footsteps down the hall broke it.
• Atlas stepped back, running a hand through his hair, looking everywhere but at me.
• “I shouldn’t have grabbed you,” he said finally, voice rough with regret.
• “No,” I said, still glaring. “You shouldn’t have.”
• Then I turned and walked away, leaving him standing there with his fists clenched at his sides.
• ….
• Later that night….I couldn’t sleep.
• Not because of what happened with Atlas, though the memory of his eyes, his voice, his touch haunted me.
• But because of the symbols. The second one scratched on my window tonight.
• A circle. An X through the middle. Like a mark, more like a warning.
• I couldn’t just sit there and wait for whoever , whatever, was leaving them.
• So I slipped on my boots, grabbed my jacket, and crept out into the night.
• ….
• The halls were empty mostly. Kai found me before I made it to the courtyard.
• Why was he out this late though?
• “Out after dark, new girl?” His grin was all teeth. “Brave. Or stupid.”
• “Go away, Kai.”
• He stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “Or what? You’ll run to Atlas again?”
• I stiffened.
• His smile widened. “Thought so.”
• “I don’t have time for this,” I snapped, trying to push past him.
• But he caught my arm. Not hard, but enough to stop me.
• “What’s the rush, Mira? Oh! It’s Zara now. Looking for more symbols on your window?”
• I froze.
• “How do you know about that?”
• He laughed. “Everyone knows. You’re the most interesting thing to happen here in years.”
• What?
• His gaze dropped to where his fingers circled my arm.
• “And I’m not done with you yet.”
• Before I could retort, a voice rang out.
• “Back off, Kai.” It was Atlas.
• Kai let go, smirking. “Look at that. Your knight in shining armor.”
• Atlas didn’t smile. He just stared Kai down, radiating menace.
• Kai raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. She’s all yours.”
• And then he was gone, disappearing into the shadows.
• I let out a shaky breath. Atlas stepped closer, his voice softer now.
• “Are you okay?”
• Huh? Did I hear right?
• I met his gaze, heart still racing. “Why do you care?”
• He hesitated. Then:
• “Why ain’t you sleeping?”
• And somehow, that was the most honest thing either of us had said all night.