Chapter Four – The Warning
941 Words
The air that morning was heavy with the kind of mist that seemed to curl into your lungs when you breathed. Raven’s Hollow had its own way of swallowing light, turning everything a muted shade of silver-gray. The streetlamps were still on, their halos glowing faintly in the fog as I walked toward Blackpine High, clutching my jacket tighter around me.
For the past three days, I’d been replaying every moment with Lucien in my mind. His voice, his impossible speed when he caught my falling notebook, the way his gaze felt like it saw past every layer I had. I should have been afraid — any rational person would be — but curiosity had taken root like a stubborn w**d.
And curiosity had always been my downfall.
I didn’t see him in the parking lot. Not leaning against the shadows of his car like before. Not scanning the crowd with that unreadable expression. Part of me was relieved. The other part… not so much.
Inside, the school felt warmer, the scent of wet paper and floor polish mingling in the hallways. My first class was history, the only one I actually enjoyed. Mr. Garrison was the kind of teacher who looked like he belonged in another century — tweed jackets, leather briefcase, faint smell of pipe tobacco. He was already scribbling dates across the board when I slipped into my seat.
But I couldn’t focus. My eyes kept flicking toward the door, expecting him to appear at any moment.
He didn’t.
By lunch, the restless feeling had turned into a knot in my stomach. I took my usual spot at the corner table, picking at an apple I didn’t want. The chatter of the cafeteria blurred into background noise until I heard my name.
“Elara,” a voice said from behind me.
It wasn’t Lucien.
A girl I vaguely recognized from biology stood there, her dark hair pulled into a messy bun, eyes sharp and assessing. “Can I sit?”
“Uh, sure.”
She slid into the seat across from me, leaning forward like she didn’t want to be overheard. “You’re new here, so maybe you don’t know how things work yet.”
I blinked. “Sorry?”
Her eyes darted toward the far table by the windows — the one where Lucien usually sat, though his chair was empty today. “Stay away from him.”
I laughed once, a short, disbelieving sound. “What?”
“I’m serious, Elara.” Her tone was low, urgent. “People who get close to Lucien Draeke… bad things happen.”
Something cold slipped down my spine. “Like what?”
She hesitated, then shook her head. “Just… trust me, okay? I’m trying to help you.”
Before I could respond, she stood and walked away, disappearing into the crowd of students like she’d never been there. I sat frozen, her words echoing in my head.
Stay away from him.
The rest of the day dragged. Every shadow in the hallway felt heavier, every sound sharper. By the final bell, I was ready to go home, curl up in bed, and pretend Raven’s Hollow wasn’t trying to suffocate me with secrets.
But fate, as usual, had other plans.
The mist outside had thickened, rolling through the streets in low, swirling clouds. My breath puffed out in white wisps as I walked toward the library, deciding I needed a distraction before facing my empty house.
I’d barely stepped inside when I saw him.
Lucien stood in the aisle between the mythology and folklore section, head tilted as he scanned the spines of books. His black coat hung open, the silver chain at his neck catching the dim light. He didn’t turn when I approached, but I knew he was aware of me.
“You weren’t at school,” I said, my voice softer than I meant.
His hand paused over a book. “I had… things to attend to.”
“Is that your way of saying you were avoiding me?” I tried for lightness, but my pulse was hammering.
He finally looked at me. His eyes were darker than I remembered, almost stormy. “If I were avoiding you, Elara, you’d know.”
The air between us felt charged, like the moment before a lightning strike. I took a small step closer. “Someone told me to stay away from you.”
His jaw tightened. “Who?”
“I don’t know her name. She said… bad things happen to people who get close to you.”
He was silent for a long moment, then closed the book he’d been holding and set it back on the shelf. “You should listen to her.”
I frowned. “Is that your way of confirming it?”
“It’s my way of protecting you,” he said, voice low enough to make my breath catch.
“From what?” I pressed.
His eyes locked on mine, and for a second, I thought he might actually tell me. But then he shook his head, a faint, bitter smile touching his lips. “Some truths aren’t meant for you to carry.”
He brushed past me, the faint scent of rain and cedar following in his wake. I turned, watching him walk toward the library doors, his figure fading into the mist outside.
Something inside me ached — a strange mixture of longing and frustration. He was dangerous. He was hiding something. And maybe I should run the other way.
But I wouldn’t.
Because I already knew the truth about myself.
I wouldn’t stop until I found out his.
- Writer
