The rain lashed against the windows of the old library, a relentless drumming that matched the frantic rhythm of Elara's heart. She clutched the frayed edges of her sweater, her breath fogging the glass as she peered into the storm. The campus was a blur of shadows, the streetlights flickering like dying stars.
*He's out there.*
The thought sent a shiver down her spine, one that had nothing to do with the cold.
"You're staring again."
Elara jumped, spinning to face Kieran. He leaned against the bookshelf, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. The dim light caught the sharp angles of his face, casting half of it in shadow. He looked like he belonged to the night—untamed, unpredictable.
"I wasn't staring," she lied, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Kieran pushed off the shelf, closing the distance between them in two strides. His fingers brushed her wrist, sending a jolt of warmth through her. "Liar."
She swallowed hard, her pulse fluttering beneath his touch. "Why do you always do that?"
"Do what?"
"Act like you know everything."
A slow smile curved his lips. "Because I do."
Elara rolled her eyes, but the effect was ruined by the way her traitorous heart skipped a beat. Kieran had been a mystery since the day he'd transferred to Blackthorne College—a place where the air was thick with secrets and the students wore cruelty like armor. But he was different. He saw her in a way no one else did, as if he could peel back the layers of her soul with a single glance.
And that terrified her.
The wind howled outside, rattling the windows. Kieran's smile faded, his grip tightening around her wrist. "We need to go."
"What? Why?"
"Because they're coming."
Before she could ask who *they* were, the library doors burst open with a crash. Three figures stood in the doorway, their silhouettes distorted by the flickering light. Elara's breath caught. The Nightwatch—Blackthorne's self-appointed enforcers, a group of students who thrived on fear and control.
"Well, well," drawled the leader, a tall boy with ice-blue eyes. "If it isn't the freak and his little pet."
Kieran stepped in front of Elara, his voice low and dangerous. "Walk away, Damon."
Damon smirked. "Or what? You'll curse us with your freakish powers?"
Elara's stomach twisted. Rumors about Kieran had spread like wildfire—whispers of unnatural strength, of shadows that moved at his command. She'd never believed them. Until now.
Kieran's fingers twitched at his sides, the air around him growing heavy. "Last warning."
Damon laughed, but it was edged with unease. "You don't scare me."
A beat of silence. Then—
The lights went out.
Darkness swallowed the room, thick and suffocating. Elara gasped, her fingers grasping for Kieran, but he was gone. The only sound was the ragged breathing of the Nightwatch, their bravado crumbling.
"What the hell—" Damon's voice cracked.
A whisper of movement. A choked gasp. Then another.
Elara's heart pounded in her ears. She couldn't see, couldn't breathe—
A hand closed around hers, warm and familiar. "Come on." Kieran's voice was a soft command in the dark.
She didn't hesitate.
They ran, the storm swallowing their footsteps. The rain soaked through her clothes, the cold biting into her skin, but she didn't care. All that mattered was the boy pulling her forward, his grip unbreakable.
When they finally stopped, they were deep in the woods behind campus, the trees groaning under the weight of the wind. Elara bent over, gasping for air. "What—what just happened?"
Kieran turned to her, his eyes glowing faintly in the dark. "You saw what I am."
Her throat tightened. "I don't understand."
"Yes, you do." He stepped closer, his voice raw. "You've always known."
The truth hovered between them, fragile and terrifying. Elara had spent her life feeling like an outsider, like the world was a puzzle she couldn't solve. But with Kieran, the pieces fit.
"You're like me," she whispered.
He cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek. "And that's why they'll never stop coming for us."
The words settled over her like a shroud. The Nightwatch, the college, the town—none of it was an accident. Blackthorne was a hunting ground, and she and Kieran were the prey.
But for the first time, she wasn't afraid.
Elara lifted her chin, meeting his gaze. "Then we fight back."
Kieran's lips curved into a slow, fierce smile. "Together."
The storm raged around them, but in that moment, all she felt was the heat of his hand in hers, the promise of something more.
And the shadows that clung to them like a second skin.
Somewhere in the distance, a howl pierced the night.
It wasn't the wind.
And it was getting closer.