chapter 10
1162 Words
Aria POV
By third period, Redwood Ridge High had settled into its usual rhythm.
Too loud. Too warm. Too crowded.
The hallways smelled like disinfectant and sweat, the sharp chemical bite cutting through the cooler air outside as soon as the doors closed. Shoes scuffed against tile. Lockers slammed. Someone laughed too loudly near the stairs. It all blurred together.
Aria sat beside Lena in class, half listening as the teacher droned on about historical systems she barely cared about. Her pen moved across the page automatically. Notes. Bullet points. Dates.
She felt it before she saw it.
That sense again.
Not fear. Not exactly.
Awareness.
Lena stiffened beside her.
Aria noticed because Lena almost never did that. She was always relaxed, slouched in her chair, chewing gum like the world didn’t impress her much.
Lena leaned closer, her voice low. “Don’t turn around.”
Aria paused her pen. “Why?”
“There’s a guy,” Lena said. “And he’s been staring at you since the bell rang.”
Aria frowned. “That’s not—”
“Aria,” Lena interrupted. “I’m serious.”
Aria’s stomach tightened despite herself. Slowly, she turned her head.
And froze.
He stood near the back of the room, leaning against an empty desk like he belonged there. Dark jacket. Sleeves pushed up just enough to show forearms marked with faint scars she couldn’t quite focus on. His hair was darker than she remembered, falling into his eyes like it didn’t care to be neat.
Damien.
She hadn’t seen him in days.
Not since that strange moment earlier in the week when she’d convinced herself she was imagining things.
Now, there was no imagining it.
He was looking directly at her.
Not past her. Not around her.
At her.
His gaze held hers without apology. Calm. Steady. Like he had all the time in the world and she was the only thing worth watching.
Something about him felt… different.
More solid.
More present.
Her breath caught before she could stop it.
Lena nudged her under the desk. “Okay, now you can turn back.”
Aria did, a little too quickly.
“I don’t know,” she muttered. “What’s his deal anyway?”
Lena studied her face, then leaned back in her chair. “That’s Damien.”
“That’s it?” Aria asked. “Just Damien?”
“Just Damien,” Lena repeated. “Senior. Transfers come and go, but he showed up this term and people noticed.”
“Why?”
Lena shrugged. “He doesn’t talk much. Keeps to himself. Teachers don’t bother him, which is weird because they bother everyone. And he has this… thing.”
Aria glanced back without meaning to. Damien hadn’t moved.
Still watching.
She forced herself to look away again.
“What thing?” she asked.
Lena smirked. “The kind that makes girls forget what they were saying mid-sentence. The kind that makes people uncomfortable when they can’t figure him out.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Say that again,” Lena said lightly. “But slower.”
Aria didn’t respond.
The bell rang, cutting through the room. Chairs scraped back. Students poured into the hall.
Aria stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “I forgot my notebook,” she said suddenly.
Lena groaned. “Again?”
“I’ll be quick.”
“I’ll wait by the door,” Lena said. “And if he follows you, I’m blaming you forever.”
Aria rolled her eyes and turned back into the classroom.
The room was empty now. Too quiet after the noise outside. Sunlight streamed through the windows, dust motes hanging in the air.
She walked to her desk and reached for her notebook.
That was when she felt it.
Not footsteps.
Presence.
She straightened slowly.
He stood near the door now.
Damien hadn’t left.
Her heart thudded once, hard.
“Oh,” she said, because her brain refused to supply anything smarter.
He looked at her like he had been waiting.
Up close, he was taller than she expected. Close enough now that she could see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw, the calm focus in his eyes. Not cold. Not warm.
Measured.
“Hey, Aria,” he said as he walked past her.
Her name landed wrong.
Too familiar.
He didn’t stop. Didn’t block her path. Just passed close enough that she caught his scent clean, sharp, something unfamiliar that made her chest tighten.
“How do you ” she started.
He paused near the door, glancing back over his shoulder. “You drop things a lot,” he said. “It’s easy to notice.”
That didn’t answer the question.
She swallowed. “Right.”
He watched her for another second. Longer than polite. Shorter than threatening.
Then he left.
Just like that.
The door swung shut behind him.
Aria stood there, notebook clutched to her chest, heart racing.
“What was that?” she whispered to the empty room.
Lena took one look at her face and groaned. “You talked to him.”
“No,” Aria said quickly. “He talked at me.”
“That’s worse.”
Aria shook her head as they walked down the hallway together. “He just said my name and left.”
Lena slowed. “He knew your name?”
“Yes.”
“That’s not normal.”
Aria exhaled. “You’re not helping.”
They reached their next class. As Aria slid into her seat, she felt it again.
That awareness.
She didn’t look this time.
She didn’t need to.
Marcus arrived earlier than usual that afternoon.
He parked across the street from the school, engine off, hands resting on the steering wheel. Students spilled out in groups, laughing, shoving, loud in the way only teenagers could be.
His eyes found Aria immediately.
She walked beside Lena, animated, talking with her hands. She looked lighter today. More settled.
That should have eased him.
It didn’t.
Because someone else was watching her too.
Marcus felt it before he saw him.
A pressure. A presence that didn’t belong.
He shifted his gaze.
There.
Leaning against the fence near the edge of campus. Still. Patient.
Damien.
Their eyes met.
Damien didn’t look away.
He smiled.
Not friendly.
Not mocking.
Acknowledging.
Marcus felt his wolf stir beneath his skin, muscles tightening as instinct flared.
Damien tilted his head slightly, as if amused.
As if to say: I see you too.
Aria laughed at something Lena said, unaware.
Marcus opened the car door and stepped out.
By the time he looked back, Damien was gone.
The air felt wrong.
Marcus exhaled slowly and forced himself to stay calm as Aria reached him.
“Hey,” she said, smiling. “You’re early.”
“I had time,” he replied.
She climbed into the car, still talking about something Lena said, her voice light.
Marcus listened.
And watched the mirrors the whole way home.
- Writer
