Chapter 15: The first threat
1328 Words
Zara’s POV
The morning air was crisp with frostbite, winter was fast approaching. I walked slower than usual, my boots echoing against the polished stone floors of the corridor. The hall was mostly empty this early, save for a few students yawning and dragging themselves to class. My fingers were tucked into the sleeves of my sweater, rubbing against the raw skin of my knuckles from yesterday’s training.
When I turned the corner toward the student lockers near the main lecture hall, the sharp scent of paint stopped me cold.
My locker stood ajar, I blinked.
No.
My feet moved before I could think, heart pounding. I reached it, hesitating for just a second. A single breath. The metal door was bent where the latch used to sit. Someone had pried it open.
Then I saw it, the contents spilled onto the floor. Books, papers, my schedule, a broken bottle of ink that bled black across my notes. Someone had taken their time. My combat gloves were shredded. My extra uniform was ripped down the middle.
My pulse thundered. But it wasn’t just the mess, it was the message.
Scratched into the back of the locker door in jagged black letters, scrawled like claws had etched it:
“Leave… or disappear like Mira did.”
My lungs forgot how to breathe. My throat dries instantly, the words swimming in my vision. My hands shook as I reached out and touched the rough lettering.
A voice, too soft for comfort, broke through the numb roar in my ears.
“Zara?”
I snapped around. It was Alexandra.
Her locker was two down from mine. She stood there clutching her book, eyes wide, concern etched all over her face like she’d just witnessed a murder.
“I—” she stepped closer. “What happened?”
I stiffened.“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Don’t pretend like you care,” I said coldly, stooping down to begin scooping my things. Ink stained my fingers instantly. “Just go to class.”
“Zara, I—”
“Seriously, Alex.” I didn’t even look at her. “Just leave me alone.”
She stood there a moment longer, shifting uncomfortably. “Fine,” she said softly. “But whoever did this… they crossed a line.”
I didn’t answer. She walked away.
I kept picking up the pieces. The sting of ink in my nostrils, the smell of ripped fabric, the scratching of paper sliding against wet stone. I stacked the ruined books. My mind ran in circles. Who did this? Why am in Mira’s business now?
Footsteps approached. Louder this time. Familiar in their sound.
I didn’t have to look up to know it was Atlas.
“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded, voice sharp as a blade.
I slammed one book shut harder than necessary. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“You shouldn’t be cleaning this up alone.”
I glanced at him now. His dark brows were drawn, his fists clenched like he was restraining himself.
“I don’t need help.”
“You’re bleeding.”
I looked down. My palm had sliced against a bent spiral ring from my journal. Blood pooled at the edge of my thumb. I hadn’t even noticed.
“It’s nothing.”
Atlas stepped forward, his voice lowering. “You should’ve told someone.”
I straightened to face him fully. “Why? So you can parade around being the big protector? I thought you said I should avoid you? Why do you keep appearing everywhere that I am?!”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” His tone flared. “You think pushing everyone away makes you strong? That no one gets to care?”
My fists clenched. “You don’t get to care.”
“I already do!” He said quickly, then groaned as if he regretted saying it.
We stood there, breath heaving between us, the locker hall stretching silent around our voices.
Atlas’s chest rose and fell. He looked down at the mess, then at my bleeding hand. He stepped closer.
Too close that I could smell his cologne, cedar and vanilla and something colder underneath.
“Stop acting like you don’t need anyone,” he said again, but this time quieter, like it hurt him to repeat it.
The ache in my chest flared.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I whispered. “Why won’t you just leave me the hell alone?”
My voice cracked, and I hated it.
His eyes locked on mine. “Because you look at me like I’m the one who broke you.”
The words hit like a slap. Neither of us moved
My heart betrayed me. It skipped. His gaze flicked to my lips. Seriously? Was he really trying to?
I turned my head sharply, stepping back. “Don’t,” I said.
His jaw locked. A muscle ticked beneath it. “You have an ink stain on your lips. Clean it up.”
And just like that, the hallway felt twice as cold.
I crouched down again, finishing the cleanup like nothing had happened. But every nerve in my body was still sparking. Atlas stood over me another second, watching, his expression unreadable.
Then he turned and walked away.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
….
Later that afternoon, I sat in the library, my eyes glued to the same paragraph I’d been reading for twenty minutes. My notes were damp from my locker’s contents, and my elbow kept sticking to the page.
The warning circled in my mind like a predator.
“Disappear like Mira did…”
I touched my locket absentmindedly.
There was a chill in the room that hadn’t been there before. A shadow moved behind one of the tall shelves. I turned, looking, but nothing.
“Don’t be paranoid,” I muttered.
But the feeling lingered. The sense of being watched.
A chair scraped loudly from across the room.
I looked up sharply, just another student. I returned to my notes.
Still, my body wouldn’t relax.
….
By evening, the sky bled red over the academy.
I walked the stone path back toward the dormitory, my boots crunching frost.
As I passed the East Wing courtyard, I noticed Alex sitting alone on one of the benches. Her head was bent, shoulders hunched.
I kept walking. She didn’t look up.
Maybe she finally got the message.
I reached the dorm entrance and paused. My reflection caught in the glass door, messy hair, dark circles under my eyes, ink stains on my wrist.
Behind me, laughter echoed, Atlas and his group crossing the path from the combat arena.
I stepped inside before they could spot me.
Inside the dorm, Talia was waiting on the staircase.
She tilted her head. “You look like a ghost.”
“Thanks.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What happened?”
I hesitated. Then sighed. “My locker. Someone trashed it.”
Her expression sharpened. “You’re kidding.”
“No.”
“What did it say?”
I met her gaze. “Something about Mira.”
Her eyes widened. “Zara…”
“I know.”
“You have to tell someone.”
“No.”
“Zara.”
“I’m handling it.”
Talia crossed her arms. “You say that, but you look two seconds from collapsing. And for the record, people are watching. Not just me. Atlas. Jace.”
I stiffened. “Jace? Why?” Did Jace finally decided to drop the act?
We stood there in silence, the hallway dim around us.
Then she reached out and touched my sleeve gently. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”
I almost pulled away. But I didn’t.
Instead, I nodded. “Thanks.”
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get some hot chocolate before dinner.”
- Writer
