Page 20 of Of Shadow and Moon

Here, in the sharp light of day, I know one thing for certain.

I was royally, completely, irreversibly fucked.

Chapter 10

Nazriel

Istand frozen in the dining hall, the chaos of students buzzing around me. My eyes are locked on her. Gabriella. As she walks past me, her eyes meet mine for a brief moment and she fucking smirks at me before dipping her head. My fists clench at my sides. I do the same in return.

She had to have followed me here. There’s no other explanation. I won’t let her ruin everything. Her name alone twists inside my chest, settling there like a thorn.

Her hair, a thick, endless spill of black, moves as if it’s alive, like it’s part of the darkness itself, swallowing the light surrounding her. It tumbles over her shoulders in waves, framing her face, drawing my eyes to those kohl smeared lids, her eyes are sharp, knowing, and infuriatingly smug, but hold a mystery that hooks me even as I grit my teeth against it.

She’s dressed in the academy uniform, and she wears it better than anyone here. The fabric clings to her curves, hugging her like a second skin. It’s maddening. She’smaddening. I hate how my eyes trace the line of her waist, how they follow the way her hips sway with every step.

The tavern that night was supposed to be nothing more than a brief detour, a nameless stop on my way to something far more important. The old building leaned heavily to one side, its warped wooden planks groaning beneath the weight of the night’s patrons. The air inside was thick with smoke and the sour tang of spilled ale, the dim light flickering as if it, too, was struggling to stay alive. It was the kind of place you walked into and left without a second thought.

At least, that’s what I believed, until she quite literally fell into my arms moments after I stepped inside.

It happened so fast, her curvy frame colliding with mine, her hood slipping just enough for me to catch a glimpse of her face. Her dark eyes snapped to mine, wide with surprise, and for a heartbeat, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. Her scent, something like vanilla and peony, wrapped around me, cutting through the staleness of the room. She mumbled a thanks, brushing herself off, but I barely heard her. From that moment on, she consumed me, stealing every thought, every breath, as if the very air between us had been altered.

I didn’t plan to stay, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave. Not with her sitting across from me, that sharp tongue of hers laced with humor and defiance, her every move magnetic. By the time the night blurred into dawn, I’d given her hours I didn’t have, hours I couldn’t spare.

Even now, I can still feel the heat of her skin against mine, the way her touch lingered long after it was gone. The memory burns; I didn’t want to walk away from her that night. Gods help me, I still don’t.

The first classof the day is Magical Theory. All first years are required to take it, regardless of their species. I make my way to the classroom, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling of seeing Gabriella again. The room is already half full when I arrive. It’s an auditorium to fit all of the students. I take a seat near the back, hoping to observe without being noticed.

That’s when Gabriella walks in. I knew it was too good to be true. She sits near the middle and to the right.

The professor, an elderly mage named Professor Thalor, stands at the front of the room. He has a long silver beard and piercing blue eyes that seem to see right through you. He has everyone stand up to introduce themselves, saying their first name, their species, and gift, if they have one. “Let’s start with the back and work our way up,” he states.

Great.

“Nazriel, water mage,” I say. My eyes going back to Gabriella to see her reaction. But her face is a blank mask, giving away nothing.

“Matheus, dragon nagual,” the Tepetl prince says. His eyes looking down, a blank mask on.

“Kaelion, demonio, incubus,” the Metztli prince spits out, glaring at me and everyone around him.

“Evaline, air witch,” a voice seems to purr, I look up and it’s the same girl from last night who knocked on my door to say, “If there’s anything you need, please let me know, and I meananything.” She’s giving me those same “fuck me” eyes as she did last night.

I glance over at Gabriella and she’s glaring. I smirk. Good. Make her hate me. I can’t have her getting in the wayof what I need to do. She’s a distraction. So maybe I suck it up and let Evaline be a solution.

It’s time for Gabriella to speak. She looks up at me before turning to the professor. “Selestina, human.”

I scoff, but can’t help from smirking. I guess we both were keeping secrets.

Selestina sits with her back straight, head slightly tilted as she listens to Professor Thalor drone on about ancient enchantments. The soft light from the candles above catches in her long black hair. She’s wearing those old lace-up boots again, the ones that are scuffed at the toes and look like they’ve seen better days. The same ones she wore the night we met in the tavern and got stupid drunk. They suit her. Rough around the edges, a little mysterious, just like she is.

Damn it.

I clench my jaw and tear my eyes from hers, forcing myself to focus on Professor Thalor's lecture. But it doesn't last long. I find myself looking again at her, and every time I look, the same frustration bubbles into my chest. What is it about her that does this? Why can't I shake this obsession?

My eyes scan the room and land on Matheus. He's seated a few rows back from Selestina, his jaw tight. There's that same sort of intensity in his expression again, that same sense of being fixed on his target. He's staring at her like he's trying to unravel her, dig into whatever secrets she's hiding. Just like me.

I clench my teeth as a sudden surge of anger fills my chest.

But it is not only Matheus. Across the aisle, Kaelion watches her, too; his dark eyes narrowed, his mouth twisted in that smug smile he always wears when he thinks he's one step ahead of everybody else. He leans back in hischair, arms crossed, but his gaze never leaves her. There's something almost predatory in the way he watches her, like he's just waiting for her to slip up, to make some kind of mistake.