Page 13 of Lured By Shadows

The thought almost pulled a laugh from me because imagining us as something simple, friends or anything close to normal, felt completely wrong compared to how aware I was of him right now.

Class had already started. My first day, and I was late, but I didn’t really care. I told myself there had to be some leniency for being new, even though I knew I was mostly stalling, stretching this moment out because walking away from him felt harder than it should.

My attention shifted forward, settling on the back of his head. Soft light traced along the pale curve of his skin, and I had to make an effort not to stare. I thought about the way his gloved hand had brushed mine earlier, cool and solid, almost stone-like. It hadn’t been unpleasant. In fact, I liked it. Maybe it was just the weather messing with me… or maybe not.

I didn’t realize he had stopped until I walked straight into him. A startled sound slipped out of me as I bounced back, the impact embarrassing in its suddenness. He didn’t move at all. Not even slightly. It was as though I had run into something carved instead of alive, and the thought sent unease flickering through me.

I stumbled backward, arms lifting instinctively, but he turned and caught me before I could lose my balance. His hand closed around my upper hip, firm and steady, pulling me in with a certainty that felt more instinctive than accidental.

A slow smile curved along his mouth, the sort that suggested he knew exactly what effect he had on me. I pressed my hands against his forearm, trying to steady myself, but it only made me more aware of him, of the solid muscle beneath my touch and how easily I seemed to fit there.

I was in trouble. Deep trouble.

“Is this going to become a habit, my little lamb?”

There it was again.

The nickname settled around me like something soft and binding all at once, both infuriating and impossible to ignore. I bit my lip and looked up at him, meeting those emerald eyes. Darker up close, with just a trace of amusement.

I tried to pull back, straightening with what dignity I could manage. “Don’t make fun of me.”

Because if he kept smiling at me like that, I was going to start making embarrassing life choices.

Before he could respond, the classroom door swung open.

An older man stood in the doorway, framed by at least twenty students behind him. Their attention followed his gaze straight to us… and to me, standing there far more flustered than I wanted to admit.

“Well, are you coming in?” the professor asked.

I probably looked ridiculous standing there like that, so I stepped away from Culver quickly, and this time he didn’t stop me.

“I—I’m sorry,” I blurted with heat in my cheeks. “He was just showing me to my class.”

The professor’s eyes narrowed slightly, skepticism settling into his expression. “Get in and find a seat.” Then his attention shifted to Culver, and his tone changed. Not softer, exactly, but more controlled. “As for you, Mr. Scarbrough, I do hope you’re settling in well.”

Culver’s demeanor shifted. The teasing edge disappeared, replaced by something steadier and heavier. “I am well enough,” he said calmly. “Though I find it peculiar that some students receive more favorable treatment than others. This is the second instance today, and I will not permit a third.”

His voice remained even, but something beneath it tightened the room. If I was reading him right, he was actually defending me over whatever had happened earlier. But he hadn’t even been there… so how did he know?

The professor stiffened, clearing his throat. “My apologies, Mr. Scarbrough. I’ll ensure all faculty are reminded to treat our students with equal courtesy.” His gaze returned to me. “And my apologies to you as well. Please, take any seat you like.”

The shift in tone came too quickly and too smoothly, reminding me uncomfortably of the woman at the front desk.

I moved toward the classroom, but Culver’s fingers brushed my wrist.

The cold settled against me instantly, biting and unnatural, as though his skin had been pressed against ice for far too long. Beneath it came the shock of electricity flying through me. I had never felt anything like it.

His eyes found mine, tired yet focused, pulling me back into his orbit.

He leaned in, close enough to make my breath catch, and said quietly, “I will be waiting for you after class, Ira.”

He didn’t lower his voice enough to keep it between us.

Jesus Christ.

Did he know how insane he sounded, or was this simply his natural state?

My face burned as a few students glanced over, curiosity flickering in their expressions. I ducked my head, exhaling in frustration. “Whatever,” I muttered as I hurried toward the nearest empty seat.