SPACE BETWEEN

The night pressed heavy against the academy walls, as if the air itself had thickened, waiting. Evelyn’s footsteps echoed in the quiet corridor, her heart drumming louder than she liked to admit. She had told herself she wasn’t looking for him, hadn’t planned on chasing after shadows—but somehow her feet carried her outside.

The forest loomed, a black silhouette against the moonlight. It wasn’t the kind of place a sane person wandered into after dark. But sanity had stopped being Evelyn’s anchor long ago.

The moment she crossed the tree line, the world shifted. The air grew colder, sharper, carrying scents of pine resin and damp earth. Each branch creaked like it was whispering warnings. Shadows stretched too long, curling at the edges of her vision.

She stopped, breath fogging in the chill. Why am I even here?

That was when she saw him.

Lucien.

He stood with his back to her, framed by the pale glow filtering through the trees. The moonlight traced the sharp lines of his shoulders, silvering the strands of his dark hair. Still as stone, yet there was something restless in the way his fingers flexed at his side—as if he were restraining himself from… something.

Evelyn’s chest tightened. “Lucien.”

He turned, slowly, and the shadows seemed to coil tighter around him. His gaze found hers, those eyes catching the moonlight in a way that felt unnatural, magnetic. A dangerous calm settled over his face.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said softly. His voice carried like a ripple through still water—gentle, but with a weight that made her pulse stumble.

“I could say the same about you.” She forced her voice steady, though her palms were damp. “What are you hiding?”

A flicker passed through his expression—something unguarded, gone in an instant. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then make me understand.” She stepped closer, her boots crunching on dry leaves. “Because every time you vanish, every time you appear out of nowhere—every time—you look at me like you know something I don’t. What is it, Lucien? What aren’t you telling me?”

For the first time, his composure cracked. His jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened with something like pain. He moved toward her, so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body despite the cold.

“You don’t want the truth,” he whispered. “Not from me.”

The words sent a shiver racing down her spine. She hated the way part of her leaned into that warmth, hated how her heartbeat betrayed her. But before she could answer, the forest changed.

The air thickened. The temperature dropped so suddenly her breath came out in sharp, frosted clouds. The silence broke with a low hiss—like dozens of voices whispering at once.

Then the shadows moved.

They detached from the trees, stretching unnaturally, forming shapes that writhed and crawled toward them. A hollow dread pulsed in Evelyn’s chest, primal and suffocating.

“What the hell—” She stumbled back, instinct screaming at her to run.

Lucien’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. His grip was firm, grounding. “Stay behind me.”

Evelyn’s protest caught in her throat as the shadows surged closer. Faces flickered in the darkness, eyes glowing faintly, mouths stretching wide in soundless screams. The whispers grew louder, weaving into a cacophony that clawed at her mind.

Her knees weakened. “Lucien, what are they?”

“Something that should never have touched you,” he said, his voice no longer calm but edged with fury. His eyes burned brighter now, an unnatural light cutting through the gloom.

And then—he changed.

Not fully, not into something she could name—but enough that she knew she wasn’t standing beside someone human. His movements blurred, faster than sight, his strength tearing through the shadows like they were nothing more than smoke. The air trembled with each strike, each step, as if the forest itself recognized his power.

Evelyn could only watch, horror and awe twisting in her chest. The shadows screamed, their voices sharp as glass, before dissolving into the night.

When silence fell again, Lucien stood in the clearing, chest rising and falling with controlled breaths. His eyes were still glowing faintly, too wild, too fierce.

Evelyn’s voice shook. “What… what are you?”

Lucien turned to her, expression torn between longing and despair. For a heartbeat, she thought he might finally tell her.

Instead, he stepped closer, his hand brushing her cheek—a touch so gentle it burned. “Stay away from me, Evelyn,” he said, voice breaking on her name. “Before it’s too late.”

And then he was gone.

Just gone.

The clearing was empty but for her ragged breathing and the echo of whispers that hadn’t quite died. Evelyn’s heart pounded, her whole body trembling as the reality sank in.

Lucien was no ordinary classmate. No ordinary boy.

He was something else. Something the shadows feared. Something that terrified her—and yet, in some twisted, dangerous way, drew her in deeper.