The ballroom of Ever Thorne College shimmered under a canopy of chandeliers. Light spilled across the marble floor like melted gold, painting the crowd in warm hues and fractured rainbows. Laughter, music, and the clink of glass blended into a rhythm that pulsed through the night.
Aubrey stood near the balcony, fingers grazing the cool railing as she watched students twirl beneath the lights. The orchestra's violin sang—a haunting, steady melody that slowed her pulse to match its tempo. She didn't belong to the noise or the glamour. For a moment, she was content just to watch.
Then she saw him.
Lucian Freeman stepped into the hall as if he'd walked out of a dream shot in slow motion. The crowd seemed to part without realizing it. His black jacket caught the light, his silver chain glinting against his throat. And when his gaze found hers across the distance, everything else faded into blur.
He crossed the room. Each step deliberate. Unhurried. Dangerous.
"Dance with me." He said it simply, hand extended.
Aubrey froze. She could feel Casey's eyes on her from across the room—a subtle shake of the head, a warning. But something in Lucian's tone—equal parts challenge and curiosity—tugged at something reckless inside her.
Before she could think better of it, her hand met his.
The crowd drew back, a small circle opening around them like water parting for a stone. The first notes of a slower piece filled the air, soft and rich. Lucian led, his movements smooth, confident, and precise. Aubrey followed, hesitant at first, but her body remembered rhythm easily.
"You don't usually hesitate," Lucian murmured, his voice low enough for her alone.
"Maybe I do when I should know better." Aubrey kept her eyes on his collarbone rather than his face.
He chuckled under his breath. "So you think I'm a mistake?"
"I think you want to be one."
Lucian's lips curved, but there was no humor in his eyes. "You might be right."
He spun her—one clean motion that made the crowd gasp softly. Aubrey's hair fanned out like silk, catching the light. For a heartbeat, it felt like they were the only two people left in the hall.
Then his hand slid too high along her back.
Aubrey's body stiffened. The music stretched thin. Before the murmur of the crowd could catch up, her palm cracked across his cheek.
The sound split the room like glass breaking.
Lucian's head turned with the impact, eyes widening—not with anger, but surprise. For a heartbeat, no one moved. Even the orchestra faltered, bows hesitating mid-note.
"Enough." Aubrey's voice was soft, but it carried. She stepped back.
Casey was already on the move, crossing the floor with purpose. The twins, Becky and Selene, whispered behind their painted smiles, jealousy and disbelief flickering in their expressions like candle flame.
Lucian exhaled slowly, then laughed once—sharp and low. "You've got a strong right hand." He brushed his jaw. "Guess I deserved that."
Before he could say more, another voice cut through the silence.
"Deserved more than that."
Damien Halvern strode forward from the crowd. His expression was calm, but the tension in his shoulders said otherwise. He was taller than Lucian, his presence colder, more deliberate.
Lucian straightened. "Not your business, Halvern."
"Everything on this campus becomes my business when you start throwing your weight around." Damien's voice was steel wrapped in ice.
Before anyone could react, Damien's fist connected with Lucian's jaw. The crowd gasped—shock breaking into a wave of noise. Lucian staggered, caught himself, and swung back. The crash of their impact echoed across the hall, glass shattering somewhere behind them.
Students shouted. Some cheered. Others froze, unsure whether to step in or record it.
"Stop it!" Aubrey shouted, but the words drowned beneath the chaos.
Chloe and Elijah pushed through the crowd. "Damien, enough!" Chloe cried, grabbing his arm—but he didn't stop. Another punch. Another impact. Until—
A buzz. A vibration.
Damien's phone lit up on his wristband. He froze mid-swing, chest heaving. His expression shifted—from fury to confusion, then something darker. Something afraid. He stepped back, eyes darting toward the exit.
"Damien?" Chloe's voice trembled.
But he was already gone.
The music faltered to silence. The crowd stood still, suspended in the aftermath. Lucian wiped blood from his lip, expression unreadable.
"Guess the party's over," he muttered, turning away.
---
Hours later, the campus slept beneath moonlight. The echoes of the fight still lingered in the corners of Aubrey's mind like bruises she couldn't see. She and Casey walked along the torch-lit corridors in silence, their footsteps too loud in the emptiness.
"I shouldn't have danced with him," Aubrey said quietly.
Casey shoved her hands in her pockets. "Maybe not. But you stood your ground. That's what people will remember."
Aubrey didn't answer. Her chest felt tight, uneasy, like something was pressing down from the inside.
A siren wailed somewhere near the west wing. They turned in unison as figures hurried across the courtyard—security, then campus guards, then police. The crowd that formed was silent, horrified.
Damien Halvern lay motionless by the garden wall. His head tilted at an impossible angle. The dirt beneath him showed a faint, strange pattern—like the print of a hand, only larger.
Aubrey's breath caught. "No..."
Detectives arrived minutes later, the flash of cameras breaking the darkness into fragments of blue and white. Chloe stood near the edge of the crowd, shaking, Elijah's arm tight around her shoulders. Her face was pale as moonlight.
Lucian watched from a distance, bruised and silent, his expression carved from stone.
When they asked questions, Aubrey answered in clipped sentences. Every word felt heavier than the last. What she'd seen. What she hadn't. What she thought she saw in Damien's eyes before he walked away—that flicker of fear, like he'd known what was coming.
By the time they returned to the dorms, the halls of Ever Thorne had turned quiet again—but it wasn't peace. It was the silence that follows a storm that hasn't quite finished. The kind that makes you hold your breath.
Aubrey stopped by her window and looked out over the courtyard, where the torches flickered like dying stars.
Something moved in the shadows. A shape. A whisper.
She couldn't see it clearly, but she felt it—an awareness, sharp and cold, brushing the edge of her thoughts like fingertips against glass.
Somewhere out there, someone was watching.
And in the darkness beyond the torches, a name stirred in silence.
Azaqor.
The hunt had begun.