The registration hall was quieter than Auriella expected.
Maybe thirty or forty students scattered throughout the massive room with its vaulted ceilings and stained glass windows that cast colored light across the stone floors. Long tables lined the walls, each with a letter range printed on a sign. Staff members in crisp uniforms handed out folders and checked names off lists with calm efficiency.
It felt exclusive. Selective. Like every single person here had fought tooth and nail to get through those iron gates—whether through money, legacy, or sheer merit.
Auriella and Penny joined the short line for surnames A-F.
"Not many of us, huh?" Penny murmured, glancing around.
"Guess they weren't kidding about the acceptance rate," Auriella said. She'd heard Blackthorn only accepted about fifty new students each year. Fifty out of thousands of applicants.
When they reached the front, a woman with silver hair and sharp eyes looked up from her tablet.
"Names?"
"Penelope Ashford."
The woman's expression brightened immediately. "Ah, Miss Ashford. Welcome to Blackthorn." She handed Penny a thick folder embossed with the university crest. "You're in Ravenwood Hall, room 227. Your luggage has already been delivered."
"Thank you," Penny said.
The woman turned to Auriella. "And your name?"
"Auriella Thorne."
The woman nodded, checking her tablet, then handed Auriella her folder with the same warm smile. "You're in Ravenwood Hall as well, room 314."
"Thank you," Auriella said, taking the folder.
"Different floors," Penny said as they walked away, linking her arm through Auriella's. "But at least we're in the same building!"
"Yeah." Auriella grinned. "We can still have late-night snack runs."
"Exactly what I was thinking."
********************************
They pushed through the heavy doors and out into the courtyard. The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the campus. Everything looked even more imposing in the golden light—the Gothic towers, the stone gargoyles perched on corners, the ancient trees with their gnarled branches reaching toward the gray clouds gathering overhead.
"Ravenwood Hall is this way," Penny said, checking the campus map on her phone.
They followed a cobblestone path that wound past the library—a massive structure with flying buttresses and narrow windows that looked like arrow slits. Next came a chapel with a bell tower that stretched high into the sky, its bells silent and still. Students moved in small groups, some laughing, others looking as nervous as Auriella felt.
The campus felt like something out of a Gothic novel. Beautiful and imposing at the same time.
Ravenwood Hall loomed ahead, four stories of dark stone covered in thick ivy, with tall arched windows and a heavy wooden door that looked like it belonged on a medieval castle. The name was carved into a stone plaque above the entrance, the letters worn but still clear.
Inside, the entrance hall was stunning.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, their light bright and warm, making the polished dark hardwood floors gleam. The walls were painted a rich cream color, lined with elegant portraits in gilded frames—former headmasters and notable alumni, probably. A grand staircase curved up to the higher floors, its bannister made of dark wood with intricate carvings of ravens and thorned vines.
Modern touches blended seamlessly with the old architecture—sleek light fixtures mounted on the walls, a security desk near the entrance with computers and monitors, a large flat-screen display showing campus announcements and events.
Students moved through the space, chatting and laughing, some already carrying coffee cups from what had to be a café somewhere on campus. The air smelled clean, with a hint of expensive cologne and fresh flowers from a massive arrangement on a side table.
It felt exclusive and prestigious, but alive. Expensive, but welcoming.
"This place is incredible," Penny breathed, looking around with wide eyes.
"Yeah," Auriella agreed, taking it all in. "It really is."
"Come on, let's find our rooms."
They climbed the stairs together, their footsteps quiet on the carpeted runner that ran down the center of each step. The second-floor hallway was wide and well-lit, with modern recessed lighting in the ceiling and wall sconces that gave off a warm glow. Doors lined both sides, each with a brass number plate that gleamed. The walls were painted a soft neutral color, with framed artwork—mostly landscape paintings—spaced evenly along the corridor.
It looked more like a luxury hotel than a dorm.
Penny's room—227—was halfway down the hall.
She unlocked the door with the key from her folder and pushed it open.
"Oh my god," Penny said, stepping inside.
The room was huge. A four-poster bed with deep burgundy curtains dominated one side, the mattress piled high with plush pillows and a thick duvet. A mahogany desk sat beneath a tall window with leaded glass that overlooked the courtyard below. A velvet armchair in deep green was positioned near a fireplace—an actual working fireplace with a marble mantle. The walls were painted a soft cream, and thick Persian rugs covered the hardwood floors. A door on the far side led to what had to be a private bathroom.
Modern amenities were everywhere—a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, outlets with USB ports built in, sleek lamps on the desk and nightstand, even a small mini-fridge tucked discreetly in the corner.
Penny's designer luggage was stacked neatly beside a large wardrobe with carved doors.
"This is insane," Penny said, running her hand along the back of the armchair. "I thought dorm rooms were supposed to be like tiny and cramped."
"Not at Blackthorn, apparently." Auriella walked to the window and looked out at the courtyard, at the fountain with its stone raven, at the students milling about below.
Everything here screamed wealth and history. Old money. Tradition. But modern. Updated.
"Your turn," Penny said, grabbing her hand. "Let's see your room."
They climbed another flight of stairs to the third floor. This hallway was nearly identical to the second—wide, well-lit, with the same elegant artwork on the walls and plush carpet underfoot. Classical music played softly from hidden speakers, just loud enough to fill the silence without being intrusive.
Auriella's room—314—was near the far end of the hall,
She slid the key into the lock, her hands slightly unsteady, and pushed the door open.
Her room was just as stunning as Penny's, though the color scheme was different. A four-poster bed with soft white and silver curtains dominated one side, the mattress piled high with plush pillows in shades of cream and pale blue. A mahogany desk sat beneath a large window, matching the one in Penny's room. A velvet armchair—this one in dove gray—was positioned near a fireplace with a marble mantle. The walls were painted a soft dove gray, and thick rugs in cream and silver covered the hardwood floors. A door on the side led to her private bathroom.
Modern amenities were everywhere—a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, outlets with USB ports built in, sleek lamps on the desk and nightstand, and a small mini-fridge in the corner.
Her luggage—matching designer pieces that Penny's parents had gifted her—was stacked neatly beside the large wardrobe.
"It's beautiful," Penny said from the doorway, smiling. "I love the colors it suits you ""
"It's perfect," Auriella breathed, walking slowly into the room.
She walked to the window and pulled back the sheer curtain. Her view was different from Penny's. Instead of the courtyard, her window faced the forest that bordered the campus. Trees stretched endlessly into the distance, thick and dark, their branches swaying in the breeze. The iron gates were barely visible through the foliage.
Something about the forest made her uneasy. It reminded her too much of her dreams.
"You okay?" Penny asked, stepping inside.
"Yeah. Just... taking it all in."
"It's a lot, I know." Penny squeezed her shoulder. "But we're here. Together. Letting go .That's what matters, right?"
Auriella nodded, tearing her gaze away from the forest. "Right."
They spent the next hour unpacking. Penny helped her hang clothes in the wardrobe—designer pieces mixed with her favorite comfortable outfits, all quality items that Penny's mom had insisted on buying for her before they left. Books were stacked on the shelf above the desk, and they made the bed together with the luxurious sheet set Mrs. Ashford had gotten to match the room's aesthetic—soft Egyptian cotton in pale blue and cream.
It started to feel more like hers. Comfortable. Like home.
By the time they finished, the sun had dipped lower, the afternoon fading toward evening. Long shadows stretched across the room, pooling in the corners.
"I should head back to my room," Penny said, stretching her arms over her head. "Get my own stuff sorted. But text me if you need anything, okay? I'm literally one floor down."
"I will. Thanks, Pen. For everything."
Penny pulled her into a quick hug. "Always. We're gonna be okay here. I promise."
After Penny left, the room felt suddenly quieter.
Auriella sat on the edge of her bed, her gaze drifting to the window. The forest was darker now, the trees becoming shadows against the fading light.
She pulled out her phone, scrolling through old photos without really thinking about it. Then she stopped.
Her grandmother's face smiled back at her from the screen. It was from last summer—Granny sitting in her garden, hands covered in soil, her gray hair pulled back in a messy bun, eyes crinkling with laughter at something Auriella had said.
Three weeks.
It had only been three weeks since she'd lost her.
The funeral felt like a blur. The flowers, the people offering condolences she couldn't really hear, Penny's hand squeezing hers through it all. Granny had been more than family—she'd been Auriella's everything. After her parents died when she was young, Granny had raised her. Taught her to be strong. To dream big.
Blackthorn had been their dream. Granny used to sit with her at the kitchen table, helping her fill out the application, telling her stories about the old university and how special it was. How Auriella deserved to go there.
And now she was here.
But Granny wasn't.
Auriella's throat tightened. She blinked hard, willing herself not to cry again. She'd cried enough. Penny had been there for every breakdown, every moment when the grief became too heavy to carry alone. Penny had held her through the worst of it, stayed up with her on the nights she couldn't sleep, made her laugh when she thought she'd forgotten how.
Penny had been trying so hard to bring back the cheerful, excited Auriella she used to be. The girl who talked non-stop about college, who planned out every detail of their future together. That girl felt like a stranger now.
But Auriella was trying. For Penny. For Granny's memory.
For herself.
She set her phone down and looked around the beautiful room. This was supposed to be a fresh start. A new beginning at the school they'd dreamed about for years.
I made it, Granny, she thought, her chest aching. I'm here. Just like you wanted.
A soft chime sounded, pulling her from her thoughts.
A speaker mounted discreetly in the ceiling activated with a gentle tone.
Then a smooth, professional voice filled the room:
"Attention all first-year students. There will be a mandatory orientation meeting tomorrow morning at nine a.m. in the Grand Hall. Attendance is required. Welcome to Blackthorn University."
The speaker chimed again softly, then went silent.
Auriella looked up at the ceiling, then back at the window. The forest was almost completely dark now, the trees looming like silent sentinels.
Mandatory orientation. Nine a.m.
She made a mental note to set an alarm.
Her mind wandered back to the nightmares. Three weeks of the same dream, over and over. Running through darkness. The thing chasing her. The man with the dark eyes who felt like safety—until he wasn't.
What did it mean?
Penny thought it was psychological. Grief manifesting in her subconscious. Maybe she was right. Losing Granny so suddenly, so close to her eighteenth birthday—it made sense that her mind would create these dark, twisted dreams.
But it felt like more than that.
It felt like a warning.
Auriella shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts. She was exhausted. Three weeks of barely sleeping was catching up with her, and tomorrow was a big day. Orientation. Meeting new people. Starting classes soon.
She needed rest.
She changed into her pajamas, brushed her teeth in the beautiful marble bathroom, and climbed into bed. The sheets were soft, the mattress perfectly comfortable. The room was quiet except for the faint sound of wind rustling the trees outside.
She closed her eyes, trying to will herself into a dreamless sleep.
But as she drifted off, her last thought was of her grandmother's warm smile.
And the man with the burning red eyes..