5. Nora

5

NORA

The sky rumbled above, a warning of the rain that was sure to come. I scrawled the last of my notes in my journal and then leaned back, looking out the window. Everything was grey, but it only made the forest greens rich and verdant.

“I should walk,” I said to myself.

My cup of tea had gone cold, but I finished it regardless before rising from my chair and stretching. A box sat on the sofa half open and I crossed the room to it, digging through myriad objects until I found my umbrella. One of the metal rods was slightly bent, but it would do.

I stepped out in the afternoon. The air was cool, permeating through the long coat I wore. I was already dreading the winter here.

There had been no more questions from the officers or the Dean. Like Jacob had suggested, it seemed as though the search for a murderer had already lost its steam. The rumours of the deaths had become occultic in nature. The Dean assured the rest of the staff that there was nothing to fear.

I didn’t believe him.

Regardless, it wasn’t going to halt my life. I’d spent most of the week organising my tower and office, reading for the start of the courses that would begin in a few days. I’d combed through the principles of psychology over and over again, even though the information was permanently alive within my mind.

Although I was certain it would rain, I needed to stretch my legs and get out of the tower before I drove myself mad. And before I had dinner with The Hunt .

It would be interesting to see how it went tonight with the three of them. I’d since shaken off the ominous warning Jacob had given me, although I could still hear screams occasionally at night. I’d decided that it was probably an animal of some kind or the students being silly in the forest. While I’d never been the sort of student to go to parties, I was still aware they happened.

My feet seemed to know where I wanted to go. I wandered along until I came to the greenhouse I could see from my top window.

Here in front of me, it was less charming and more ominous than it appeared from far away. The metal beams that cradled the windows were rusted, and there was a foggy film over the glass that made it difficult to see within. Vines crawled over the ground, creating a precarious maze for anyone that did not pay attention. Mushrooms sprouted to either side of the door, which was wide open, the alluring plants drawing me in like a moth to a flame.

A chill crawled up my spine as I stepped inside. “Hello?” I called.

There was no answer. My voice echoed, drifting away from me.

The first thing I noticed above the scent of dirt was citrus. To my left was a small table with a hand-painted porcelain plate sitting on top of it. An orange was cut in half, and several small tortoise butterflies rested on the fruit, sipping its juice with their long tongues.

“Is there anyone here?” I called again.

No answer. I slowly crept closer, delighted that the butterflies didn’t immediately flutter away as I leaned down to study them.

I was jealous of the way they could simply exist and feast on something, not caring of the world they lived in. My mouth watered. I couldn’t remember how long it’d been since I had an orange.

“ Who are you and what are you doing? ”

I spun around, startled by the deep, gruff voice. My sudden movement caused the butterflies to scatter, and they swirled between me and the dark shadow I knew to be Professor Alec Briar.

Steel grey eyes bore into me as if I was the bane of his existence.

Here, in his environment, he was dressed much more casually than when I’d seen him at the pub. He wore black pants and a working man’s shirt, an apron over it that was smudged with dirt. Purple flowers sprouted from one of the pockets, a contradiction to his demeanour.

My stomach gave a slow, deep tug. He was a mess, but a mess that could have been designed by the gods. His face was beautiful, but there was a coldness to him, an unyieldingness that made me bristle.

The back of my neck prickled the same way it had in the pub.

“I’m just wandering,” I said. “I?—”

“Students are not allowed here.”

Clearly he didn’t remember me. I raised a brow. “I am not a student. I’m a professor,” I said sharply. His brows drew together. “Professor Nora Woulfe. Psychology. ”

I held out my hand and he simply stared at it like it was a pistol loaded to shoot him. I remained still, waiting for him to shake it, and instead a butterfly landed on the tip of my finger.

Its wings flapped slowly.

Alec put his hands behind his back, not before I noticed the red speckles of what appeared to be blood. “My hands are not suitable for shaking at the moment. What do you want, Professor Woulfe? Considering the tragedies of this week, it does not seem wise to be wandering alone.”

Embarrassed, I lowered my hand, my gaze following the butterfly as it drifted off down the obscured greenhouse path.

“I’d like a tour,” I said, clearing my throat. “I am new to the university and want to know the grounds.”

“The grounds ,” he gritted out, “exist outside of my conservatory, not within. If you’d like a tour, perhaps join one of the student ones I’m sure they have most days.”

I scowled at him. “Are you always this welcoming, or is it because I am a woman in an academic field that grates on you?”

“You could have a cock and I would still be this charming. Get out, Professor Woulfe, and do not come back. Ever. You are not welcome here. This place is full of poison, of which I am the most deadly.”

“Is that a threat?” I whispered.

Thunder rolled loud enough that the walls shook. Rain started to pour, unleashed without mercy. His eyes became cold, calculating, and all I could think was that Alec Briar had the eyes of a killer.

“It is. Leave. Now .”

My jaw set and I was about to give him a very un-lady-like gesture via my middle finger, but then paused. “Before I go, I want an orange.”

“A what ?” His exasperation gave me the upper hand .

I pointed at the orange on the table. “The citrus fruit. I want one. No, two . And then I’ll leave.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“ Deadly ,” I answered.

He shook his head and cursed under his breath, marching away down a path through massive leaves and branches. I crossed my arms as I waited. He returned within a few moments carrying two ripe oranges. I plucked them from him, grabbed my umbrella, and stepped out into the rain.

He slammed the door shut hard enough that the glass walls shook again.

No wonder Louis, Harold, and Jacob despised him so much.