Chapter 18 – The Public Reprimand
1473 Words
The morning air in the lecture hall was sharp and humming with whispers. Aria slipped into her seat near the middle row, her heart still unsteady from the messages she had received the night before. The unknown number had stopped texting after that final warning, but the words still echoed in her mind.
He’s not who you think he is.
She tried to push the thought away. Cassian Draven wasn’t dangerous. He was brilliant, intense, mysterious? Yes, but dangerous? No. At least, that was what she kept telling herself.
The door opened, and the room fell silent.
Draven entered with the kind of quiet authority that made everyone sit straighter. His black shirt was buttoned neatly today, though his sleeves were still rolled, exposing the strong lines of his forearms. His expression was cold, unreadable, and his gaze swept the room before landing briefly on her. Just long enough for her heart to skip.
“Good morning,” he said, voice steady and low.
The students murmured in reply. Aria could barely look at him. The memory of his hand brushing hers, his breath near her ear, the tension that had filled the room during their private session, it all came rushing back.
She kept her eyes on her notebook.
“Today,” he began, “we discuss interpretation through perspective. How the writer’s intent shifts depending on who reads the work.”
He walked between the rows as he spoke, his tone precise and calm. But when he neared her, his steps slowed almost imperceptibly. She could feel his presence even before he stopped near her desk.
“Miss Vale,” he said suddenly.
Aria’s head snapped up. “Yes, Professor?”
His dark gaze fixed on her. “Tell the class what you think Keats meant when he wrote ‘A thing of beauty is a joy forever.’
The room went quiet. Dozens of eyes turned toward her.
Aria hesitated, clutching her pen.
“I think he meant that beauty, true beauty never fades, even when time changes everything else.”
A few students nodded. But Draven’s expression didn’t soften.
“Too safe,” he said. “Too careful.”
She blinked. “Careful?”
He took a slow step closer. “You’re interpreting it like an academic, not a human being. Tell me what you think, not what you believe sounds right.”
Aria’s cheeks burned. “I just….”
“Do you believe beauty lasts forever?” he interrupted softly, his voice dipping lower, but his tone sharp enough to sting.
Her breath caught. “No,” she whispered.
“Then say that.”
He moved away from her desk, his eyes still locked on hers as he spoke to the class.
“See, truth isn’t about sounding intelligent. It’s about being honest, even when it’s uncomfortable.”
Murmurs rippled through the hall. Aria sank back in her seat, her pulse racing. His words felt personal, as if meant only for her.
But then she caught something in his eyes, something almost regretful, before he turned his back on her and continued lecturing.
She barely heard the rest of the discussion. Every word he said sounded distant.
The humiliation of being singled out burned through her chest, yet beneath it was something more confusing, a strange warmth, a thrill that shouldn’t have been there at all.
When the class ended, she gathered her things quickly, hoping to leave before anyone spoke to her. But as she stepped into the hallway, she heard a familiar voice behind her.
“Hey,” Mason said, catching up with her.
Mason, confident, always smiling, always quick with a joke or flirtation. Today, his grin was softer.
“Don’t let him get to you. Draven does that to everyone. He’s got that... mysterious, intimidating professor act.”
Aria forced a smile. “It’s fine. I guess he’s just doing his job.”
Mason tilted his head. “Still. You didn’t deserve that. You gave a good answer.”
“Thanks,” she said, trying to sound calm.
He hesitated, studying her for a moment. “You okay? You look... distracted lately.”
Aria looked away. “Just tired.”
“Maybe you need a distraction,” Mason teased lightly. “Coffee after class? I promise not to talk about poetry.”
Before she could respond, the air behind them shifted.
Draven had exited the lecture hall. He walked past them, his expression unreadable, but his gaze flicked briefly toward their direction. The brief glance was enough.
Aria felt the tension instantly, the sharp awareness of his presence, the strange electricity that always seemed to follow him.
Mason didn’t notice. “Come on, say yes. Coffee won’t kill you.”
She smiled faintly. “Maybe another time.”
As Mason walked off, Draven’s voice came from behind her. “Miss Vale. A moment, please.”
She froze. Slowly, she turned to face him.
His tone was calm, but there was a sharp edge to it. “I’d like to discuss your essay revisions. My office. Now.”
Her pulse quickened. “Yes, Professor.”
She followed him through the hallway, her footsteps echoing behind his. Students moved aside as he passed, some glancing curiously at her.
The way he walked, controlled and deliberate made it impossible not to notice him.
When they reached his office, he opened the door and gestured for her to enter.
She stepped inside. The air felt different here, it was quieter, heavier. He closed the door, but didn’t speak right away.
Aria shifted nervously. “About the essay….”
He cut her off. “Don’t let students like Grey distract you during lectures.”
She blinked. “What?”
His jaw tightened. “You were talking while I was dismissing the class.”
“We weren’t”
“It’s unprofessional,” he said firmly, moving closer. “And you should be careful with the kind of attention you invite.”
Her heart stung. “You mean Mason?”
“I mean anyone,” he said, his eyes holding hers. “Some men don’t know when to stop.”
“Are you one of them?” The words slipped out before she could stop them.
He froze. The silence stretched painfully long. Then, slowly, a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“You’re becoming bold, Miss Vale.”
“You’re the one who told me to stop holding back,” she said quietly.
Something flickered in his gaze, something darker, almost like pride. “So I did.”
He took another step forward, close enough that she could feel his warmth. The air between them thickened.
“You humiliated me today,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
His eyes softened. “That wasn’t my intention.”
“Then what was?”
“To remind you that control matters,” he said. “Especially when emotions begin to interfere.”
Her pulse jumped. “Whose emotions?”
He didn’t answer. He just looked at her, and the silence said more than words ever could.
When she tried to move past him, he caught her wrist gently, not tight, just enough to stop her. His thumb brushed the inside of her wrist, tracing her pulse.
“Be careful, Aria,” he said quietly, his voice rough. “You have no idea what you’re walking into.”
Her throat went dry. “Then tell me.”
“I can’t,” he said.
“Why not?”
He released her hand slowly. “Because some truths are worse than lies.”
The sound of rain began again, tapping against the window. She took a shaky breath, stepping back.
“You’re always warning me about something, but you never explain.”
He looked away, as though fighting himself.
“If I explain, you’ll never look at me the same way again.”
Aria felt a shiver run through her.
“Then maybe I want to know anyway.”
His eyes met hers again, burning with restraint. “You shouldn’t.”
Before she could reply, his phone buzzed on the desk. The sharp sound broke the spell. He reached for it, glancing at the screen. His expression darkened.
“Go, Aria,” he said quietly, almost distant now.
“Professor….”
“Please,” he interrupted, his tone tight. “We’ll continue this another time.”
She hesitated, then nodded and left the room.
As she stepped into the corridor, her phone vibrated. Another message from the same unknown number appeared on the screen.
You’re not the only one he’s tutoring.
Aria stopped walking, her heart twisting painfully.
The hallway felt colder suddenly, the air pressing against her chest. She looked back toward the office door but it was closed again, silent.
And from inside, faintly, she heard his voice.
But he wasn’t alone.
- Writer
