Chapter 8

CHAPTER8

Sera

Rain patteredagainst the windows as I hurried to class, mirroring the gloomy mood that had settled over Blackthorn. But despite the ominous weather, a small smile lingered on my lips. Last night, Rhys had appeared at my window, his stoic company a respite against the menacing darkness.

We had sat in easy silence before my hearth, taking comfort just from each other’s presence. He wasn’t much of a talker, but with Rhys, words were often unnecessary. Our bond flowed between us, steady and reassuring as the ocean’s tide. He was the eye of calm in the gathering storm.

I wished I could unveil the mysteries that shrouded his past, the burdens he carried. But I didn’t press, respecting his need for privacy. When he was ready, Rhys would open up to me. Until then, I was simply grateful for each moment we shared.

Lost in daydreams, I didn’t notice the other students give me a wide berth in the halls, their whispers following in my wake. The Headmistress’ warnings had bred paranoia and suspicion between even the closest of friends. I kept my head high and ignored their distrust. I had the support of Professor Bishop, but more importantly, I had Rhys. I trusted him completely. He’d not hesitated to save me from that nearly lethal accident in the courtyard—come to think of it, it might not have been an accident after all…

The shrill bell jolted me from my thoughts. Not the class bell, but the one that signaled an immediate gathering. A second later, magical overhead speakers summoned us to the castle’s ballroom.

Apprehension replaced my pleasant musings as we flooded towards the lavish chamber, which was seldom ever used. What new crisis was upon us? The crowd’s nervous energy buzzed through the cavernous, mirrored hall as we awaited the Headmistress inside. Tall windows revealed the rain still falling in relentless sheets, sky and spirits both dreary.

At last, the imposing double doors groaned open. The Headmistress strode in, black robes flowing behind her like wings. Without preamble, she began, “I have an announcement to make.” She paused, allowing the tension to build. “For centuries, the Starry Night Ball has been a tradition at the closing of each school year. Despite the current climate, tradition must prevail, and this year will be no exception. The ball is of the utmost importance, and as such, I have decided to form a committee to ensure its success.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd, whispers of excitement and curiosity filling the air. My stomach churned with unease, knowing that any involvement in such an event would put me directly in the spotlight—a place I had been desperately trying to avoid.

“Those chosen for the committee will be tasked with organizing every aspect of the ball, from decorations to the entertainment. The teams will work in pairs, after class, tirelessly, to create a night that will be remembered for years to come.” Headmistress Blackthorn’s voice was unwavering, her stern demeanor unrelenting.

“Any questions?” she asked, her gaze sweeping over us once more. The silence was tangible as students exchanged nervous glances, none daring to speak up. “Very well, then.”

Having said that, a large scroll suddenly materialized on the wall with a faint popping sound, clearly enchanted. Students immediately crowded around the parchment, jostling eagerly to see the list of those selected for the prestigious planning committee.

I hung back anxiously, nerves coiled tight. As the crowd began to disperse, I couldn’t help but feel the crushing weight of anxiety pressing down on me. A rough shove nearly sent me sprawling. “Watch yourself, witch,” Drazhan growled as he shoved past. “Wouldn’t want any accidents marring that hideous face before the ball.”

His cruel words struck deep, rekindling old insecurities. With classes and Drazhan’s relentless torment, the last thing I needed was planning committee duties. I prayed to all the gods my name would be passed over.

“Seraphina Silvermist,” I heard someone read out loud from the list. My stomach dropped, and I tried to ignore the whispers and stares that followed. I could feel my cheeks burn as I forced myself to approach the list and confirm what I already knew. There it was, my name printed clearly in bold letters.

“Fucking hell…” I moaned, shutting my eyes against a swell of dread. So much for lying low this year. Instead, I would be center stage, coordinating this blasted dance while attempting to avoid further bullying and navigate the minefield of social politics in the spotlight’s glare. It was a nightmare.

“Congratulations,” said a voice next to me, startling me from my anxious thoughts. I looked up to find an impossibly handsome guy standing there, his tall, muscular frame towering over me. Wavy chestnut hair fell casually across his striking maroon eyes, watching me with undisguised interest.

My breath caught as we locked gazes, the din of the crowd fading around us. By the gods, he was gorgeous—a classical statue come to life. The sharp lines of his jaw and full mouth stirred an unfamiliar flutter low in my belly. He looked a few years older, his confident poise speaking of maturity beyond his youth.

A knowing smile crept onto his lips as my wide-eyed stare lingered longer than was proper. I dropped my gaze, cheeks burning. What was happening to me? I never behaved this foolishly around boys.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, mirth dancing in those mesmerizing eyes. His voice was a delicious, gravelly rumble that sent tremors down my spine. “I merely wished to congratulate you on making the committee.”

“Thanks, I guess,” I mumbled, not quite meeting his gaze. “You’re on the list too?”

“Unfortunately,” he responded, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. Despite his reserved demeanor, I could tell he was trying to make light of the situation. It was somehow soothing, knowing that someone else shared in my reluctance.

“Any idea why they chose us?” I asked, finally looking directly into his eyes. His gaze held a depth and an intensity I hadn’t expected, making me feel as though no one in the room mattered but me.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” he replied with a shrug. “We’ll just have to make the best of it.”

“Easy for you to say,” I muttered, thinking about the unwanted attention this would bring me, especially from Drazhan and his friends. “I was hoping to keep a low profile this year.”

“Ah… Who knows?” he said thoughtfully. “Maybe this will be good for both of us. We might even end up enjoying it.”

His calm words eased some of my anxiety, though his steadying effect puzzled me. We were near strangers, and yet I felt tethered to him in some profound way. With a resigned sigh, I glanced again at the dismaying list, confirming my fate.

As we turned to leave, I couldn’t resist stealing another look at this intriguing guy who stirred such curious feelings in me. His eyes seemed terribly familiar.

A niggling thought teased my mind. “Do I... know you from somewhere?” I asked uncertainly.

He flashed me a crooked grin. “Better than most, I’d say.” He leaned in conspiratorially and whispered in my ear, “Thank you for the blanket.”

My eyes flew wide as realization crashed over me. That voice... Of course!

“Rhys?” I gasped as sheer shock swept through me. “Is that you?”

Joy and astonishment mingled dizzyingly inside me. This beautiful man was my beloved Rhys, the one who’d rescued me in the courtyard, the one who’d kept me company last night, unknowingly soothing the darkness of recent days. It seemed impossible, and yet deep down it felt profoundly right.

I drank in his handsome features—the strong line of his jaw I had traced in his stone form, those piercing maroon eyes now set in an elegantly sculpted face. But those full, sensuous lips were new, temptingly so. I ached to unravel the rest of him.

He watched me closely, gauging my reaction. Slowly, cheeks warming, I reached out to brush my fingers along his arm, confirming his solidity. He was real and here.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked in wonder. I should have felt hurt at his secrecy, and yet I could not deny the connection still thrumming between us, unchanged by his deceptive appearances. He was still my Rhys beneath it all.

“You’d figure it out, eventually,” he said, lifting one shoulder sheepishly. “You’re a smart girl.”

Unable to contain myself, I threw my arms around him, embrace confirming I accepted every facet of this complex man before me.

I smiled up at him. However often he might change his skin, he would always be the Rhys I cared for deeply, in whatever shape or form.

“Ah, Miss Silvermist, I see you’ve already met Mr. Greystone,” the Headmistress said approvingly, her voice cutting through the din like a sharpened dagger. “Excellent, as you two will work together on the music and band selection for the dance.”

I froze, stunned. Rhys was my assigned partner? Fate certainly had a sense of humor.

The Headmistress swept off, leaving us observing one another curiously. Rhys flashed a knowing grin that made my cheeks warm. “Well, shall we get started, partner?” he asked with a playful gleam in his eye.

I gathered my composure, refusing to let him fluster me further. “We better. Can’t have you dragging us down,” I teased back boldly. “I hope you can keep up.”

His smile widened at my show of spirit. “I look forward to seeing your moves firsthand,” he replied smoothly. “But don’t underestimate me. I enjoy... surprising people.”

The sternness of his words caught me off guard, sending a shiver down my spine. I narrowed my eyes at him, a smirk tugging at my lips. “You better watch yourself, Rhys. You might just find that you’ve bitten off more than you can chew.”

I took a step back instinctively as Rhys advanced, but my shoulders met the cold stone wall behind me. He moved closer, leaving only a hand’s breadth between us. There was nowhere left to retreat—and given the chance, I honestly wouldn’t want to.

Rhys reached out and pressed a palm against the wall just above my shoulder. He leaned in, his chiseled features silhouetted by the flickering torchlight. This close, his earthy, sandalwood scent enveloped me.

“Or maybe,” he murmured, his voice low and resonant, “I’ll discover that we make a perfect team.”

My heart jolted into a wild gallop, all too aware of his powerful form mere inches from mine. The heat radiating from him was intoxicating. This breathtaking creature had me pinned in place without even touching me.

Time seemed to slow, each second stretching, taut with tension. My lips parted slightly as I tilted my face up towards his. So close, I could see flecks of amber ringing his intense dark irises.

Rhys lingered a moment more, his gaze dropping briefly to my mouth before meeting my eyes again. A small, sensual smile curved his lips. Then he withdrew, the space between us feeling suddenly cavernous. I drew in a shaky breath as he turned away, my skin still humming from his nearness.

Something about his suggestive tone made my pulse quicken. Just who was this Rhys Greystone, with his disarming charm and air of mystery? I had a feeling trying to keep up with him would prove delightfully challenging in ways I couldn’t yet imagine.