Chapter 4

I wake before the sun. For a second, I don't remember where I am. Then I do. And I wish I didn't.

The ceiling above me isn't stone. No cracks. No damp. No flickering torchlight. Just smooth, unfamiliar quiet.

My body is already tense, already awake, already waiting for something to go wrong. Old habits don't fade. They settle in your bones.

I sit up slowly, scanning the room out of instinct. One door. One window. No immediate threats. Good enough. The silence presses in around me.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand, rolling my shoulders once before moving toward the washroom.

The water is warm. Hot even. Skyless Keep either had freezing water or no water. I stand under it longer than I mean to, letting it run over my skin, over scars I don't look at too closely. Clean doesn't feel like mine yet. Neither does this place.

When I step out, I dry off quickly, pulling on the cadet uniform piece by piece. It fits. Too well. Like I belong here. Like I was always meant to end up here.

I ignore the thought. I'm not hungry. So I don't bother with food. I need to go outside. I need to learn the grounds. Learn the exits. Learn how to move without being seen.

I head for the door. And open it, only to find Luca leaning against the wall like he's been there all morning. I stare at him. He grins.

"Good morning." He beams.

"You've been waiting here?”

"Maybe." He grins.

"You're annoying." I say with a small smile.

"Only sometimes."

I narrow my eyes slightly. "Go away."

"Not a chance," he says easily, pushing off the wall. "I'm walking you to the Iron Hall for breakfast."

"I didn't agree to that." I huff.

"You didn't have to."

I sigh quietly.

He's not going anywhere. And I already know that he will not take no for an answer. I step past him.

"Fine."

His grin widens as he falls into step beside me.

"See? We're going to be friends in no time."

I don't look at him. Friends? I haven't had friends since I was a small child. There was not a single person in Skyless Keep that you could trust. I don't need any distractions on my quest in escaping.

"I wouldn't go that far." I mutter under my breath.

The path to the Iron Hall is busy. Students moving in groups. Voices overlapping. The low hum of beasts somewhere nearby. Everything feels louder in the morning.

The Iron Hall itself is massive. High ceilings. Long tables. Stone and metal and movement everywhere. It smells like food and heat and too many people in one place.

I slow slightly as we step inside, taking it all in. Not just the room, but the people. The exits. The threats.

"Relax," Luca murmurs. "You look like you're about to fight the furniture."

"I might," I mutter.

He huffs a laugh.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been surrounded by so many people. I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel like crawling out of my skin right now. But fear is a weakness I cannot afford.

We find Seyla already seated at one of the long tables covered with food, arms crossed as she watches us approach.

"You're late," she says, looking directly at Luca now.

"You started without me?" Luca whines.

"I always start without you."

He drops into the seat beside her anyway. I hesitate for half a second. Then sit across from them. I remind myself again not to get comfortable. Do not get used to this.

Luca leans forward slightly, resting his arms on the table.

"So," he says, "first official morning at Aetherion. Excited?"

"No."

"Good. Me neither."

Seyla rolls her eyes. "Ignore him."

"I try." I mutter.

"Not very hard." He says with a wink.

I glance between them.

"You two always like this?" I say before sipping my coffee. I need caffeine if I'm going to get through this.

"Yes," they say at the same time.

I huff out a quiet laugh before I can stop it. I look away, but I can't help but smile at them. Luca lights up like he's been waiting for that.

"There it is."

I blink. "What?"

"That," he says, pointing at me slightly. "That smile."

I freeze. Just a fraction. My brows furrow.

He tilts his head, studying me like he's found something interesting.

"Your real smile is beautiful," he says, softer now. Not teasing. Not mocking. Just... honest.

Something in my chest stumbles. I don't know what to do with that. So I look away. And that's when I feel it. That shift. That weight. Like something just locked onto me.

I look up. And find him across the hall. That asshole who pinned me in the dirt like I was nothing. His gaze cold, but with a flicker of something else. Eyes fixed directly on me.

Something in my chest tightens. Sharp and uncomfortable. He looks as though he's looking at his prey. I look away hoping he will stop staring at me as though he wants to murder me in my sleep.

But still, I feel him watching. I glance his way again, only for his eyes to be fixed elsewhere. Like he was never looking in the first place.

Luca notices my uneasiness. He follows my line of sight—And then snorts quietly.

"Oh." Luca huffs with an eye roll.

Seyla glances over. Then stills. Just slightly.

"That's Callan Viremont," Luca says quietly, like it's nothing.

The name hits before the meaning does. Viremont. My thoughts stutter. Slow. Then crash.

Viremont.

As in—

Seyla shifts in her seat.

"Luca—"

But it's too late. Too late to take it back. Too late to soften it.

Viremont. Viremont. Viremont.

The name echoes in my head. Loud. Relentless. My hands go still in my lap. I don't feel them anymore.

Callan Viremont.

My breath catches. Not visibly. Not enough for them to see. But I feel it. That crack.

He pinned me to the ground. His voice in my ear.

"I won't be so gentle next time." The memory replaying in my head.

Viremont.

I don't look at him again. I don't need to. I can feel it.

He's watching again. The uncomfortable silence at the table stretches.

Luca clears his throat.

"Maeve—"

I stand, but not fast enough to cause a scene. I don't say anything. I just turn and leave Iron Hall quickly.

The noise of the hall swallows me immediately. Voices. Movement. Chaos. But it all feels distant. Muted. Like I'm moving through something that isn't real.

I don't stop walking. I don't look back. Because if I do—I'm not sure what will show. And I don't give anyone that.

But I feel it. That weight. That stare. Following me all the way to the door. And even after I step out into the cold morning air—I know. He's still watching.