CHAPTER 4:
Dreams melted into dawn, and upon waking, only one name remained—Zaira.
Aisha couldn't recall ever speaking it.She didn't know if it was an echo from her mind, a memory that wasn't hers, or just a fragment of a dream.But every time she opened her eyes, that name lingered in the folds of the sheets, clinging to her skin like an invisible scar.
The night air at Unidad College had turned cold. Too cold.
Aisha stood by the window, watching the moon.But this time… the moon was watching her.
"You are no longer alone," whispered the voice inside her.It wasn't her voice. It wasn't human.
The book resting on her lap vibrated.Its leather cover pulsed, as if it were alive.She hadn't opened it… and yet it breathed beneath her fingers.
She dared to glance at the last page she'd left open.
And she saw her.
Zaira.Her face. Her body. Her wounds.Burning.
"No…" Aisha gasped.
But it wasn't a drawing.The page moved.
Zaira staggered across the parchment, bleeding footprints trailing behind her. Wolves circled her—and one of them had golden eyes.
Suddenly, Aisha was no longer in her room.
She was standing in a forest drowned in fog and fire.Zaira knelt before her.
"I never wanted this for you," she said, voice breaking."I only wanted you to remember me… not become me."
Aisha stepped back, confused.
"Who are you?"
"I'm the reason he can't love you without guilt."
"Who?"
The wind howled.A silver medallion landed at her feet—broken in two.
"Sanathiel," whispered Zaira."He watched me burn. Now he watches you live."
A scream tore through the trees. Her own voice—but it didn't belong to her.
She woke with the taste of ashes on her tongue.
"Just dreams… nothing but dreams."
She shook her head and quickened her pace.
As she turned the corner—she bumped into someone.
The impact made her stumble, but before she could fall, firm hands caught her.
"I'm sorry," murmured a deep voice.
Aisha looked up, and for a second, the world stopped.
The stranger's eyes were dark, unfathomable…but she could've sworn a flicker of violet passed beneath the flickering streetlamp.
Too brief. Too unreal.
Her heart skipped, heat blooming in her chest—like a spark had ignited something inside her.And at the same time, a cold void crawled through her stomach—a warning whispering caution.
"You…" she whispered, voice trembling.
On his left wrist, a scar of three circles shimmered faintly beneath his rolled-up sleeve.
The young man frowned.A strange light passed through his pupils—like smoke swirling over an amethyst—and vanished just as quickly.
He handed her a notebook.
"Are you alright?" he asked calmly.
Aisha took it, and as she did, a loose page fell to the ground—revealing a spiraling drawing:a wolf made entirely of the word "Sanathiel," repeated over and over.
The young man looked at the page.His lips curled into a cold smile—one that carried something far older than him.
"Do you like fairy tales, Aisha?" he asked."Wolves always bite in the end."
Before she could answer, his presence shifted.Not like someone walking away—but like something dissolving.
When she blinked… he was already gone.And he'd left no trace.
Who the hell is he?
The next morning, in class, Aisha tried to focus—but her thoughts stayed trapped in that morning encounter.
When the professor took attendance, his voice cut through the silence:
"The new student, Rasen, will partner with Miss Aisha."
The entire room held its breath.
Aisha looked up.He was already looking at her.
There was something in the way he stared—in the way he settled beside her—that made every instinct in her flare.
His presence was suffocating.His posture—casual, relaxed—but his gaze held the calculation of a predator.
Aisha gripped her pen and started to write.
Sanathiel.
Without realizing, she'd written the name over and over.
Rasen tilted his head, his expression unreadable.
"Your hand is shaking," he said casually, though his eyes burned with something deeper.
"It's not," she replied, pulling the pen away.
He smiled—not a smile, but a test.A game.
One she didn't know the rules to.
Later, the halls were almost empty when Aisha stepped into the bathroom.
The lights flickered.The drip-drip of water broke the silence, erratic and wrong.
She looked in the mirror.Dilated pupils. Shaky breath.
It's not real…
And then—a figure at the doorway.
Rasen.Motionless.Soaked from the rain.His wide eyes didn't blink.
"What are you?" Aisha demanded, clutching the notebook to her chest.
Rasen pointed at the drawing of the wolf.
"The same as you," he said softly."A mistake someone wants to erase."
Thunder roared outside.
His reflection in the mirror shattered—splintering into shards.
Inside them, shadows with eyes of fire clawed at the glass, trying to break through from some other world.
Aisha stepped back.The sound of the water changed—thicker.Darker.Black.
Rasen stepped forward.
"We'll meet again soon, Aisha."
And then—as if reality had hesitated—he vanished.
The rain washed away his voice—but not the symbol left behind, sketched in violet smoke:
S.S.V.
Before fading, he had raised his hand in an almost ritual gesture.
The three-circle scar on his wrist pulsed with a violet glow—like cursed gears syncing to the mark.
Aisha stood there, notebook trembling in her hands.
The paper felt like a tombstone.Each heartbeat echoed with omen.
And yet…
A part of her wanted to know more.And that desire… was the real trap.