Page 19 of Of Shadow and Moon

Him.

The stranger from the tavern. Rafael. I instantly smile when I make eye contact with him. But the longer I look at him, my smiles starts to fade.

He looks different… from when he was nothing more than a dangerous looking man with piercing ocean eyes and a grin that promised trouble. He no longer gives off flirty and fun energy, standing amidst the bustling students with a presence that feels incongruent, somehow too composed, too sharp. My pulse quickens, a mix of dread and something darker pulsing through me.

His eyes find mine, and I see a crack inthat cold, perfect mask, his eyes widening just a fraction before his face steels over. There’s no hint of the warmth he’d shown me in that tavern corner, no sign of the laughter or easy smiles that made me forget my name, if only for a night. Now, his gaze is a blade, cutting through the distance between us with something akin to… accusation?

He’s moving toward me, radiating an aura that sends a jolt of nerves through me. I tense, bracing myself as he closes the distance, his face a mask of controlled anger, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Did you follow me?” he says, voice barely above a murmur, yet laced with venom.

The shock of his accusation takes a moment to process.Follow him?The idea is laughable, but his tone is anything but funny. This isn’t the same man who’d tangled himself with me four nights ago, whose hands on my skin had felt like fire. That man is a ghost, and in his place is someone cold, detached, dangerous in a way that makes me almost regret that night.

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “I should be asking you that.”

His jaw clenches, the muscle twitching as he stares me down. He looks me over, cataloging my injuries, as he lifts his hand, before snapping it back down to his side, like he realized he was about to touch me.

The intensity in his eyes is disconcerting; a storm ready to unleash itself, barely held back by the threads of control I can see slipping. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The question hangs heavy between us, and I bite back the urge to tell him just how absurd he sounds. I hadn’t eventhoughtabout him attending the academy; it hadn’t seemed remotely possible. Everyone looks like they are in their twenties. There’s no way of knowing who is actually twenty-two unless you’re human and actually age. Yet herehe is, glaring down at me like I’m some intruder in his carefully constructed world. Anger simmers beneath my skin, and regret nudges its way into my chest.

Of all nights, why had I chosen that one to let my guard down?

I meet his gaze, refusing to look away, and let sarcasm drip from my words like acid. “I attend this academy, pendejo,” I snap, raising an eyebrow. “Igual que tú. Tonalli is huge. Get over it.”

His eyes narrow, and he leans in, his face close enough that I can see every hardened line etched into his expression. The fury behind those eyes is raw, barely contained, and it steals the air from my lungs. “Stay away from me,” he says, his voice a razor sharp whisper, each word edged with warning.

“With pleasure.” I grit out, fighting the snarl, wanting to release from my lips. But before I can turn away, someone’s voice cuts through the dining hall, clear and unmistakable.

“Príncipe Nazriel, over here!” He waves his hand back, adopting that same flirty smile he had with me in the tavern.

Are you fucking kidding me? He is such a manwhore.

Then I freeze, the words hanging in the air between us like a curse.

Príncipe… Nazriel? The weight of it crashes over me, leaving me rooted to the spot, as if reality itself has shifted. It feels like the world is tilting, twisting into something unrecognizable. My stomach lurches as I process the implication.

He’s the water prince?

He meets my eyes once more, daring me to react, to say anything. Before I can say a single word, he turns on hisheel, striding away from me, leaving me reeling in the wake of this revelation. The finality of his departure feels like a slap, the sudden emptiness where he stood only amplifying the pounding in my chest.

The realization sinks in quick.

A prince—a man I have no business getting tangled in. Yet for a brief moment, he’d been just Rafael, a man with vulnerability in his eyes, a stranger who’d touched something raw inside me. Literally.

Now, that stranger is gone, replaced by Príncipe Nazriel, a man whose very name puts him out of reach.

I clench my fists, drawing in a shaky breath as I try to quell the storm raging within me. My brain screams at me to let it go, to forget, to chalk it up to one reckless, fleeting mistake. But the truth lingers, undeniable, scorching through my thoughts.

What if…he is the one who murdered me? It can’t just be a coincidence that the prince of Atlacoya was in Tepetl, even though he hasneverleft his own kingdom? My eyes narrow as I find his gaze again.

Alright prince. Game, fucking, on.

I smile and dip my chin, letting him know that I’m ready for whatever he’s got. He returns the favor.

I’m in deeper than I ever intended to be.

The buzz of the dining hall returns, filling the silence he left behind, and I feel the weight of every passing gaze. I turn away, focusing on the tray of food in front of me, trying to drown out the chaos inside. But the memory of his touch, the way he’d looked at me that night, lingers, a ghost haunting the edges of my mind.

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