Deeply Suspicious

By the time Mara reached the library steps, she had reached several deeply unfortunate conclusions. First, Alaric Arden smiled too rarely for anyone’s mental stability. Second, Dave Thornton had started looking at Alaric the way men in documentaries looked at rival lions. Third, She might be losing her mind. Possibly academically.

The realization irritated her enough that she nearly walked directly into someone exiting the library. “Oh!” Books tilted dangerously. Mara caught them automatically before they hit the ground. The girl blinking at her looked startled enough to qualify as medically fragile. Small. Dark curls. Oversized sweater. Probably a freshman.

“Sorry,” the girl said quickly. “I wasn’t looking.” “Neither was I,” Mara admitted. “My brain is currently filing lawsuits against my life.” The girl stared. Then laughed unexpectedly. The sound seemed to surprise her more than Mara. “I’m Nora,” she offered after a second. “Mara.”

Recognition flashed instantly across Nora’s face. Not fear exactly. More like startled excitement. “The Mara?” Mara sighed heavily. “That depends entirely on what crimes I’m currently accused of.” Nora smiled despite herself. “People say you threatened a senior with a fountain.” “He survived.” “That’s not really the reassuring part.” Mara handed back the books carefully. “Fair.”

Together they entered the library’s enormous front hall where silence hovered with almost religious intensity beneath towering shelves and stained-glass windows. The place smelled like old paper and expensive education. Mara approved immediately. Libraries made sense because books didn’t randomly stare at you like they wanted to consume your soul romantically. Usually.

“You’re actually kind of famous now,” Nora whispered as they climbed the stairs. “That feels deeply undeserved.” “You embarrassed Ethan Hale.” “He embarrassed himself. I merely supervised.” Nora laughed again, quieter this time. Mara liked her instantly. Not because she seemed timid. Because unlike most people at Larkin, Nora’s reactions felt honest.

No careful social maneuvering. No invisible hierarchy calculations. Just genuine amusement. A rare species here apparently. “What are you studying?” Mara asked. “Literature.” “That explains the cardigan.” Nora looked scandalized. “What does that mean?” “I don’t know exactly,” Mara admitted. “But literature students always dress like they’ve survived at least one emotionally devastating winter.”

Nora physically covered her mouth trying not to laugh loudly. The sound earned an irritated glance from a passing student. Mara stared back until he retreated. Cowardice remained universal across income brackets. They settled near one of the tall back windows overlooking the snowy courtyard outside. For a while, the quiet soothed her. Notes. Reading. Marginally fewer emotionally complicated rich people. Peace.

Then unfortunately…A familiar pressure slid suddenly through the room. Subtle but unmistakable now that Mara recognized it. Her pencil stopped moving instantly. Across the table, Nora blinked. “Do you feel that?” Mara looked up sharply. “Feel what?” “I don’t know.” Nora frowned faintly. “Like the room suddenly got tense.”

Mara’s stomach dropped. Oh no. She already knew. And sure enough, moments later, movement near the library entrance confirmed it. Alaric Arden, of course. Several students straightened unconsciously as he passed between the shelves. Conversations dimmed subtly. Like people sensed him before seeing him.

Mara hated that she understood the feeling now. Beside her, Nora went very still. “That’s Alaric Arden,” she whispered unnecessarily. “I gathered.” “He almost never comes here during open hours.” “Maybe he’s developing hobbies.” Nora looked unconvinced.

Meanwhile Mara made the catastrophic mistake of glancing up fully. Alaric noticed immediately. Always immediately. Their eyes locked across the enormous library. And once again…The rest of the room seemed to fade strangely around the edges. It lasted barely seconds. Still too long. Mara looked down at her notes aggressively. Absolutely not.

Nora stared between them slowly. “Why does it feel like I just interrupted something?” “You didn’t. “You definitely did.” “There was no something to interrupt.” “Mara.” “There was only staring,” Mara muttered darkly. “Which this school treats like a competitive sport.” Nora looked dangerously intrigued now.

Before Mara could redirect the conversation, footsteps approached their table. They sounded calm and unfairly confident. Mara kept her eyes firmly on her textbook. “Is this seat taken?” His voice alone should not have done that to her nervous system. Yet here they were. Mara looked up slowly.

Alaric stood beside the table holding a book in one hand. Entirely too composed for someone actively ruining her internal peace. And beside her…Nora looked one heartbeat away from spontaneous spiritual evacuation. “No,” Nora answered instantly. Traitor. Alaric’s gaze remained on Mara though. “Thank you.” Then he sat directly across from her. Close enough now that she caught the clean winter scent surrounding him again.

This man was a public safety hazard. Silence stretched awkwardly. Nora looked trapped between fascination and terror. Mara decided somebody needed to behave normally here. “You know,” she said flatly, “most people just use dating apps.” Nora choked violently. Alaric blinked once. “What?” “All this dramatic staring,” Mara explained. “Very inefficient socially.”

To Nora’s absolute horror…The corner of Alaric’s mouth moved slightly. Not fully a smile but still enough to feel catastrophic. “You think I’m dramatic,” he observed quietly. “I think you enter rooms like background music should start playing automatically.” Nora made a strangled sound into her sleeve. Alaric studied Mara for a long moment. Then unexpectedly, he spoke. “You’re comfortable around me today.”

The observation caught her off guard. Because unfortunately…He was right. Or at least righter than before. The panic she initially felt around him had changed gradually into something worse. Constant awareness. Like standing too close to fire long enough that the heat became familiar. Still dangerous, but just harder to step away from.

Mara crossed her arms defensively. “That’s a strong word.” “You stopped flinching.” Heat crept annoyingly along her neck. Nora’s eyes widened slightly at the statement. Apparently she noticed things too. “Well,” Mara replied carefully, “you haven’t threatened anybody near me in at least twelve hours. Personal growth.”

Something unreadable flickered briefly through Alaric’s expression but it disappeared almost immediately. Still, Mara saw it and somehow that unsettled her more than intimidation ever had. Before she could recover mentally, Nora suddenly gathered her books with the frantic energy of prey animals sensing migration season.

“I just remembered,” she announced shakily, “that I have somewhere else to exist.” Mara stared at her. “Nora...” “Lovely meeting you both.” Then she practically fled. Coward. Mara watched her disappear between shelves before sighing heavily. “Well done. You frightened the literature student.” “I didn’t say anything.” “That’s somehow worse.” Silence settled again.

Outside the window, snow drifted softly across the courtyard while students crossed campus below. Inside, Mara became painfully aware that Alaric still had not looked away from her once. “You’re staring again,” she muttered. “You notice.” “That isn’t an answer.” “No,” he agreed softly. “It isn’t.”

The way he said it did deeply unacceptable things to her pulse. Mara hated this school. Hated it profoundly. And somehow…Sitting across from Alaric Arden in the quiet corner of the library…for the first time since arriving at Larkin…she also felt strangely safe. Which was unquestionably the most suspicious thing of all.