Page 89 of The Diávolos: Part Two
Iris tries to swallow to reply, but her throat is dry. “Back to my room.” Her tone is hushed, and she worries he’ll think she’s nervous. Who is she kidding? Sheisnervous.
“Hmm,” he says, gazing into her eyes with a spark of intrigue. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
“Did I do something wrong?” Iris blurts out, her face etched with worry.
The Dean shakes his head. “Meet me in thecatacombsafter sister studies,” he adds with a wink, passing her to continue down the hallway. Iris stands in place, unmoving. First, embarrassed that he overheard her comparing the basement to an underground cemetery. And second, confused that he wants to meet up withher.
“Oh, and Ms. Karras?” he says, letting his gaze linger a moment too long.
“Yes?”
“Come alone and make sure no one sees you,” he murmurs, his eyes flashing with heat.
Iris’s entire body turns into molten lava.
Iris spends the entire study group shaking like a leaf about to fall off a tree. Her legs won’t stop jumping. She can’t stop picking at her nails. Anticipation gnaws at her.
Thankfully, Lydia is too focused on her last class to notice Iris having an internal panic attack next to her.
When class ends, Iris excuses herself, telling Lydia she needs to get back to her quarters to use the bathroom. She was about to question Iris about it but got distracted by their fellow sisters congratulating her on her next step. A part of Iris feels bad about not spending more time with Lydia before her big day, but she’ll see her first thing tomorrow.
Iris almost runs down the halls to her room and tosses her books on her bed as she runs to the bathroom. Throwing cold water on her face, she slaps her cheeks once or twice to bring back some color. Iris still can’t believe she’s about to meet the future Dean in the basement—alone.
After reapplying some deodorant, relieving herself, and dabbing some perfume behind her ears, Iris rushes to the stairwell that leads down to the tunnels, careful to not be seen by anyone.
When she reaches the bottom, he’s already there, back turned, staring at the wall in front of him.
“You know…there are actually dead people buried down here, so calling this place a catacomb isn’t too far off,” he says, breaking the silence, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Iris slowly takes a few steps toward him.
“When this place was first built, my father’s grandfather used this basement as a burial site for those who died. Now, it’s simply an unused space—with a lot of bones.”
Iris reaches his side and looks at the encryption on the wall.
Peter Alexander Kouvalakis II.
The dates are scratched off, so she can’t tell when this person passed away.
“The last man to be buried here was my great grandfather,” he adds, pointing to the wall.
Iris nods, not knowing what to say. But she somehow understands that right now he just needs her to listen.
“The Kouvalakis legacy has always taken care of this place and made sure it survived through generations. I’m fourth generation—but the last thing I want to do is become the Dean.”
Iris attempts to put the pieces together. “Then why don’t you refuse?”
He looks at her with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “It’s not that simple.” He puts his hands in his pockets. He turns to face her, but Iris feels like a coward because she can’t look at him and keeps her eyes trained on the wall.
“But ever since I first saw you, the role has become more and more appealing.”
Her heart skips a few beats. Her cheeks flush within a matter of seconds.There’s no way he feels that way because of me,Iris reminds herself. He can’t. She’s a sister and he’s the freaking Dean.
She shakes her head. “No, no, no. You can’t.”
“Feelings can’t be controlled, Ms. Karras.”
Iris still doesn’t face him. “I can’t.”
