Page 5 of Coveted

Oof.

I need to be more careful with my personal details. No wonder I have a stalker.

I clear my throat. “What’s your name⁠—”

He cuts me off by lunging forward to pick up my bags.

A faint scent of frost and sandalwood lingers where he moved, breaking my skin into goosebumps. He makes the cool mountain air feel warmer by contrast.

He straightens. “This is all you have?”

“Yep.” I shrug. “Most of my baggage is emotional.”

His withering stare shows no sign of transforming into a smile.

“Tough crowd,” I say. “Are you a student here?”

“You think I prowl university entrances for fun?” he asks.

“I’ve never met you. How would I know what you do for fun?”

“Do you want to find out?” he deadpans.

“No, I really don’t.”

“Too bad.” An evil gleam lights his eyes. “Because you will.”

“Seriously?” I ask quietly, glancing around. “I just arrived. Give me a break.”

He looks me over again. “I’m afraid I have no intention of doing that.”

I sigh. “Are you still not going to tell me your⁠—”

He turns and walks off.

“—name,” I finish flatly.

My god, some welcoming committee.

People give him lots of space as he starts up the steps without a backward glance at me.

I may not belong here, but he does. He looks carved from the stone and shadow of the building, like he was constructed to intimidate and cause anxiety.

And he’s making off with my bags.

This must be a prank or hazing tradition. I’ve heard Darkbloom has tons and I’m about to fall victim to one. I’m a new, clueless scholarship student, so of course the resident bully is messing with me.

Taking the wet stairs two at a time, I hurry after him.

He’s already disappearing through the yawning doorway. I squeeze through the crush of people bottlenecked at the entrance to keep him in sight.

The muted interior is illuminated by golden pools of lantern light. It’s like I’ve crossed into some kind of promised land. Blinking to adjust my eyes, I look up.

Sighing in wonder, I forget I’m supposed to be chasing someone for a moment. Painted frescoes cover the ceilings, showing darkly dramatic scenes of demons fighting angels, with a glowing moon in the center.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” comes a male voice.

My eyes land on the smiling face beside me.