Mirial's POV

The moment I stepped out of the Orientation Hall, I expected a brief moment of quiet. A breath. A fragment of peace to separate me from the chaos of the courtyard. Instead, I walked straight into another wave of noise and movement.

Students filled the hallway in shifting clusters that moved like separate currents in a river far too narrow for all of them. Their conversations overlapped in uneven threads, creating a steady hum that vibrated against the stone walls. Someone near the far end of the hall released a burst of violet sparks that fizzled against the ceiling, earning a shriek from a nearby boy and laughter from his friends. The air smelled faintly of spell residue and nerves.

Arcanamir didn’t allow space for quiet thoughts.

It pressed against your senses from all directions.

I kept my hood low and slipped along the wall, hoping to blend into the flow of bodies. But the farther I walked, the more that prickling awareness crept across the back of my neck. The sense of being watched sharpened with every step.

I didn’t turn immediately. I passed a group of fae girls comparing their schedules, their wings shimmering with light illusions. Only when I reached an open corridor lined with lanterns did I risk a glance back.

Fenrir Zade stood at the far end of the hallway, half-shadowed by the lantern above him. He wasn’t moving, he didn’t speak, and he certainly wasn’t pretending to be subtle. He simply watched me with a steadiness that made the rest of the corridor feel as if it had paused for him.

I spun forward quickly and headed toward the stairwell, hoping he would lose interest once I disappeared around a corner. Instead, I nearly collided with someone far more immediately dangerous.

Valeria Cross.

She stood at the base of the stairs with two girls flanking her like attendants. Her posture was graceful, her expression soft in that intentional way that made every smile feel like a trap. When she tilted her chin, the light caught her hair, giving her a gold-touched glow that made her look both flawless and impossible.

“There she is,” she said lightly, stepping forward with the slow confidence of someone who had never been ignored a day in her life. “The girl everyone is whispering about.”

I forced myself not to take a step back. “I’m not… anything.”

Her smile sharpened. “You made an heir intervene for you. That makes you something.”

Her friends exchanged small, amused looks. All around us, students slowed their steps just enough to listen without appearing obvious about it.

“What do you want,” I asked quietly.

“I want to understand why someone like you caught his attention.” She moved closer, her eyes sweeping over me with a patient cruelty. “Fenrir Zade does not interrupt duels. Ever. And yet he stepped between you and a spell without hesitation.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” I said.

“Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t,” she replied. “You don’t look brave enough to attempt anything intentional.”

The words landed with surprising force, a sharp little sting beneath my ribs.

She leaned in, her perfume wrapping around me like a sweet, suffocating cloud. Her voice dropped to a near-whisper. “If you’re smart, you’ll leave before someone who actually matters starts asking why you’re here.”

My stomach tightened. She didn’t wait for my response. Her smile returned, bright as a blade, and she turned with her entourage in tow, already dismissing me from her thoughts.

I stayed still for a moment, letting the tension wash off me slowly. Then I forced myself up the stairs, one step after another, trying to escape the eyes that still followed me.

At the top, a deeper voice stopped me.

“You should not let her corner you.”

I caught my breath and turned.

Fenrir was leaning against the wall near the railing, as though he had been waiting for me to appear. The lantern above him cast warm light across the angles of his face, giving him a wild, carved-from-stone look that felt both ancient and immediate.

“How long were you standing there,” I asked.

“Long enough,” he said.

I shifted my grip on my bag. “So you were listening.”

“No.” His voice was steady. “I was watching.”

“That’s worse.”

He stepped away from the wall, closing some of the distance between us. “She will try again.”

“I figured.”

“You should not make yourself an easy target.”

I bristled. “I’m not a target.”

“You are,” he said simply, and there was no mockery in his tone. “Very much.”

A flicker of heat curled through my chest. “I didn’t ask to be part of your duel.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t want anyone looking at me.”

“I know.”

“Then stop looking at me.”

He considered me silently for a moment. His gaze didn’t waver, and the corridor seemed to shrink around us, as if his attention changed the very shape of the space.

“I cannot,” he said finally.

Something inside me stilled. “Why.”

His eyes lowered to my wrist, the place where the silver flare had slipped out earlier. “You know why.”

My pulse jumped. “It was nothing. Just a reflection. A trick.”

“Mages do not glow silver,” he said. “Fae glow green. Celestials glow gold. Demons do not glow at all.”

His eyes lifted, steady and unflinching. “You glow like moonlight.”

I took a step back, unable to control the instinct. “You’re mistaken.”

“I am not.”

I shook my head, clutching my bag tighter. “My uncle sent me here. He believes this place will help me.”

Fenrir’s jaw tightened, but not with anger. Something else. Something heavier. “Your uncle brought you to a place that rewards wolves and punishes the unguarded. You are not prepared for what this academy becomes.”

“My uncle knows what he’s doing.”

“He knows what Arcanamir looks like from the safety of a professor’s podium,” Fenrir said. “He does not know what it feels like to walk these halls as someone the academy wants to break.”

The words slid under my skin with unwelcome clarity. I hated how accurate they sounded. How familiar they felt.

“Why do you care,” I whispered.

His answer came without hesitation. “I do not. But you drew attention today. That alone puts you in danger.”

The hallway felt suddenly too warm, too narrow, too full of his presence. I needed to leave before my thoughts betrayed me.

“I should go,” I said.

He didn’t move to stop me.

But as I turned the corner, he spoke again.

“Mirial.”

The sound of my name in his voice anchored me mid-step. I turned slowly to face him.

He didn’t step closer. He didn’t soften his expression. He didn’t attempt to offer reassurance he wasn’t built to give. He simply met my eyes with that steady attention that felt almost uncomfortably sincere.

“If someone tries to provoke you tomorrow,” he said, “do not react.”

My fingers curled around the railing. “Why.”

“Because you cannot afford to shine again.”

His tone wasn’t harsh. It wasn’t cold. It wasn’t kind either. It was simply true. The truth landed with a weight I couldn’t ignore.

I nodded once, unable to trust my voice.

Then I turned and walked down the corridor, my footsteps unsteady, my breath uneven. I didn’t look back.

But I felt it.

Fenrir Zade watched me until the hallway turned and the shadows swallowed me completely.