Blackthorne Academy
Silas
I take a deep, shaky breath, letting the freezing air burn my lungs as I lean against the stone-cold wall. The snow falls softly around me, each flake a reminder of how everything in my life has turned to ice. The cold isn’t just in the air; it’s in my chest, wrapping around my heart, squeezing tighter every second I spend without her. Without her. Eleane.
I exhale slowly, letting the bitter chill of the night seep into my bones. It’s as if the world knows what I’ve lost and is mocking me, forcing me to feel it every single night. My eyes lock on the silhouette emerging from the shadows Cassius. Of course. Who else would be here, interrupting my moment of solitude? My eyes narrow, irritation boiling over. I sigh, the weight of my thoughts dragging my voice lower.
“What do you want?” I ask, though I know he won’t answer the way I want. He never does.
Cassius rolls his eyes, an exaggerated, dramatic gesture that makes me want to reach out and strangle him. “What’re you doing out here, anyway? You’re not the type to just stand around outside for no reason.”
I resist the urge to snap at him. I can’t waste the energy on him, not tonight. “I feel her, Cass. I can feel her getting closer,” I whisper, almost more to myself than to him.
His eyes widen slightly, a flicker of something close to fear crossing his face before it’s replaced by that familiar, infuriating look of skepticism. “Silas, Eleane’s gone. She’s not coming back. There’s no way.” His voice cracks with an emotion I don’t care to dissect.
I clench my jaw, the sharp, painful edge of his words cutting deeper than any blade. But I refuse to let him see my weakness. Instead, I let the silence stretch between us, thick and suffocating. “You’re wrong,” I growl under my breath.
Without another word, he turns, walking off with that smug, ignorant expression on his face. Cassius is a fool. He doesn’t understand. None of them do. They think she’s gone, lost to me forever. But they don’t know the truth. I do. And I’ll wait as long as it takes to prove it.
I let out a long, ragged breath, my eyes drifting up to the moon, cold and distant. It’s the only thing that has never left me always there, hanging above, unchanged. My voice breaks the silence, raw and full of longing. “I’ll see you soon, Eleane. I can feel you. I can hear you calling me, and I’ll make you mine again. I’ll bring you back. This time, I won’t let you die.”
I can feel it in my bones. The connection. The bond that never truly fades, no matter how much time passes. And this time, I won’t make the same mistakes. I won’t fail her again.
With a final glance at the sky, I turn and head back inside, the cold still lingering at the edges of my skin. As I step through the door, I’m met by Cassius again. That insufferable bastard. He’s already glaring at me, like he can’t wait for me to give him an excuse to throw another verbal punch.
“Look, Cassius,” I begin, my voice steady, but underneath it there’s a simmering storm of frustration. “Just stay out of my way. I will have Eleane. And this time, she won’t die. I won’t let you take her from me. I won’t let you burn her again.”
I push him back, just a little, not enough to truly hurt him, but enough to send the message. His eyes narrow, his body tense, but he doesn’t react, not like he normally would. Instead, he shakes his head, a mocking laugh escaping him. “How many times do we have to do this, Silas? She’s not coming back. She’s gone.”
His words, his damn words cut deeper than I ever want to admit. A cruel laugh bubbles up from the depths of my chest, though I’m not laughing. It’s just the only thing my body can do in response to his idiocy. I scoff, the words spilling out of me before I can stop them. “And whose fault is that, huh?”
He doesn’t answer. He never does. Cassius just walks away, retreating to the safety of his room, no doubt to lick his wounds and plot his next move. But I don’t care. Not anymore.
I mutter under my breath, my voice tinged with a mix of bitterness and disgust. “Coward.” The word hangs in the air, a final jab as I make my way to my room, away from the noise, away from the doubts, away from everything that isn’t her.
My fingers brush against a photo book on my couch. I pick it up, my heart stuttering as I flip through the pages. Each photo, each memory of Eleane, feels like a weight pressing against my chest, suffocating me with the love I can’t express, the words I can’t say. The memories of her, her smile, her laugh, her touch it’s all fading, slipping through my fingers like sand. But I won’t let it go. I can’t.
I whisper to the empty room, my voice barely audible but full of desperate conviction. “You did it again, didn’t you, Eleane? You made sure you’d be reincarnated. You made sure I’d find you again. Well, this time, I won’t fail you. This time, I’ll keep you away from him. From Cassius. And his damn wolves.”
I let the words sink in, tasting their truth. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her.
The night is cold, too cold, and I feel the weight of it pressing against my skin. I strip off my shirt, tossing it aside as I crawl into bed. My body aches, a deep, gnawing exhaustion weighing me down, but my mind refuses to rest. It can’t. Not with her out there, waiting for me, drawing closer.
“I’ll see you soon, Eleane,” I whisper into the empty darkness, my heart breaking with the weight of the promise I’m making.
I don’t know how or when, but I will find her. And this time, nothing and no one will tear us apart.
Elena
“I should have listened to the warnings before I set foot in Blackthorne Academy.”
The air is thick with the scent of rain and fallen leaves as I step onto the campus grounds, my suitcase dragging behind me. Blackthorne Academy looms ahead gothic, imposing, and drowning in shadows. The school feels ancient, its towering stone walls whispering secrets I’m not ready to hear.
I pull my jacket tighter around me, an uneasy feeling settling in my gut. It’s not just the eerie architecture that makes my skin prickle, it’s the way people are staring.
Whispers follow me as I pass. New girl. Fresh blood.
I pretend not to notice, keeping my head high, but the weight of their gazes makes it impossible to ignore. Then, I feel it’s something heavier than curiosity. A presence. A force.
My steps slow, my breath hitching. Someone is watching me. Not like the others. This gaze is different. Possessive. Cold. Consuming.
And then I see him.
He stands apart from the crowd, tall, impossibly still, and watching me like I already belong to him. His dark eyes burn into mine, sharp and unreadable. Something about him feels… wrong. Not human.
A shiver rolls down my spine, but I can’t look away.
Then, he smirks a slow, knowing curve of his lips that makes my stomach drop.
And in that moment, I realize… I should have never come here.
I sigh, the soft sound barely escaping my lips as I open the letter. The paper crackles between my fingers, the weight of it pressing down on me. It’s an acceptance letter to the creative writing program I applied for something I hoped would be a fresh start, a way to escape my past. To leave behind the abusive relationships and the painful memories that have haunted me for far too long. Here, at Rose Hall, I can be someone new, someone free from the chains that bound me before.
But the weight of that freedom feels heavy. It’s like standing on the edge of a cliff, wondering if I’ll fly or fall. I try to shake the thought off, pushing it deep down where it can’t reach me, but it lingers like a shadow, following me as I walk up the stairs to the dorm. The air smells different here clean, fresh, untouched. It feels like the beginning of something, but what? I can’t tell.
I find my room and open the door, the key in my hand almost too cold to touch. Inside, the space is better than I expected. The walls are painted a soft purple, the kind that reminds me of lavender fields in the summer. The room is spacious, with a medium-sized living area and a small kitchen tucked to the side. I place my suitcase on the floor and head back downstairs to my car to grab the rest of my things.
Once I’m finished bringing everything in, I shut the door behind me, the sound of it clicking shut somehow final, like there’s no turning back. But I don’t know if I’m ready to move forward. I don’t know if I’ll ever be.
As I begin to unpack, I feel it a presence. My skin prickles, and I glance over my shoulder. There he is.
His eyes never leave me. Those golden eyes with red flakes. His gaze is cold, possessive, like he’s silently claiming me without saying a word. He stands just outside the doorframe, watching, studying me. My heart stutters in my chest, an involuntary reaction I can’t control. He’s beautiful more than beautiful, gorgeous, even. But there’s something about him that makes my stomach twist with unease. His beauty isn’t comforting; it’s dangerous.
Why does he have to look at me like that? Like I’m something he wants to own. I’ve spent so long trying to escape that feeling, trying to free myself from people who wanted to control me. And now, this stranger has found his way into my new life, his eyes digging into me like a brand. I can feel it a deep, uncomfortable pull.
What does he want from me?
I try to ignore him, turning back to my suitcase. But his presence is suffocating, like I can’t breathe with him in the room. The silence stretches on, and I can feel his eyes on me like a weight on my shoulders, and I want to scream.
But I don’t.
Instead, I slip into the bedroom, hoping that putting some distance between us will help. The room is large, far bigger than I ever expected, with the same soft purple walls. The bed is huge, draped with deep purple sheets, and a light purple canopy hangs above it, softening the space. A desk sits in front of the window, bookshelves line the walls, and the closet is a walk-in. The bathroom is attached, with a standing shower and a tub, the kind of bath I could get lost in for hours.
I want to lose myself. I want to forget about him.
I undress and step into the tub, turning the water on until it’s warm enough to soothe my tense muscles. The steam fills the room, wrapping around me like a blanket. But still, his eyes linger in my mind. Those golden eyes with the red flakes. Cold, dark, full of something I can’t quite place. There’s a heaviness in them like he wants something. And for reasons I can’t understand, those eyes are on me.
Why me?
I try to shake the thoughts away, to focus on the warmth of the water, but his gaze won’t leave me. It’s like an invisible thread pulling me back to him, dragging me out of the sanctuary I’ve created in the water. My heart beats faster, erratically, like I’m being drawn to something I don’t want. I scrub my skin, trying to erase the feeling, but it doesn’t work.
When I finish my bath, I slip into a pair of lacy underwear and a dark purple babydoll nightgown. The fabric is soft against my skin, a reminder that there are still simple pleasures in life, but it doesn’t make me feel safe. Nothing about this place feels safe. The room may be beautiful, but it feels like a cage. His presence outside my door feels like a chain around my ankle.
I crawl into bed, pulling the covers over me, trying to shut everything out. But his eyes those damn golden eyes are still there, lingering behind my closed eyelids. They haunt me. Cold. Dark. Full of desire. He wants something from me, but what?
Why won’t he leave me alone?
My chest tightens with a mixture of fear and something else. Curiosity? Or is it something darker? Something I’ve buried deep inside me, a part of me that I don’t want to acknowledge. The same part that makes me ache when I think about how he watches me. I don’t know what it is, but it makes my pulse quicken. The feeling is wrong. I know it’s wrong.
But I can’t deny that there’s something magnetic about him. I can’t deny that part of me is drawn to him, even if every instinct in me screams that I should run. I’ve spent my whole life running. But now, in this new place, in this new room, there’s nowhere left to go.
I close my eyes tightly, trying to push the thoughts away. But even in the darkness behind my eyelids, his eyes are still there, burning into me. Why? I scream inwardly, but the answer never comes.
Instead, I pull the covers tighter around me, my body trembling with a mixture of confusion and fear. It’s too much. Too overwhelming. His presence. His eyes. The pull. I want to be strong. I want to take control. I want to be the one who decides what happens next, but in this moment, I feel small. Helpless. Like a puppet tangled in invisible strings.
His eyes are the only thing I can see now. The only thing I can think about. And I hate it. I hate the way he makes me feel.
But at the same time, there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to fight it. That wants to give in. That wants to let him claim me.
I turn my head, trying to block out the thought, but it won’t go away. It follows me, whispers in my mind like a secret I don’t want to hear.
And as much as I hate it, I know one thing for sure: He’s not going anywhere.
The next day, I walk through the campus with a sense of unease twisting in my gut. The sun is bright, but there’s a heaviness to the air, as if something is about to happen. My eyes shift over the students milling about, but it’s him I feel. I don’t see him at first, but I can feel him the weight of his presence pressing on me like a shadow that’s always there.
Silas Blackthorn.
I try to shake off the sensation, but it clings to me. As I approach the building for my creative writing class, I spot him standing off to the side, watching me from across the courtyard. Those golden eyes. The red flakes within them seem to burn as they follow my every movement. It’s unsettling, the way he watches me, like I’m a puzzle he’s determined to solve or worse, a possession he plans to claim.
I quickly turn my attention elsewhere, but it’s impossible to ignore him. I try to push it down, burying the feeling in the pit of my stomach, but it refuses to stay hidden. A deep breath fills my lungs, but it doesn’t help. He’s still there, lurking in the back of my mind, his gaze sticking to me like glue.
As I move closer to the classroom, a voice pulls me from my spiraling thoughts.
“Hey, you!” A guy steps in front of me, his demeanor confident, a casual swagger to his step. “I’m Cassius, but you can call me Cass. Just wanted to give you a heads up stay away from Silas Blackthorn. He’s dangerous.”
I raise an eyebrow, surprised by the warning. “Hm, thanks for the warning.” I try to brush past him, but he stands firm, blocking my path.
“No, seriously,” Cassius insists, his voice lowering. “He’s not someone you want to get tangled up with. Trust me, I’ve seen what he’s capable of.”
I smirk, my arms folding across my chest. “And who exactly are you to warn me? Shouldn’t I be the one making my own choices?” I glance over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of Silas standing farther back, still watching, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
Cassius follows my gaze, and his expression hardens. “You don’t know him like I do. Just… be careful, alright? He doesn’t take no for an answer.”
I stare at him for a moment, then shrug, deciding I’ve heard enough. “Thanks, but I’m not afraid of someone I don’t even know.”
Cassius seems like he’s about to say more, but he decides against it, giving me a final nod before walking away. I’m left standing there, the words hanging in the air, but my attention shifts immediately. There he is. Silas. Still standing there, watching me, like he’s waiting for something. Or someone.
I feel my pulse quicken as I walk into the classroom, taking a seat at the back. His presence is like a shadow in the room, always there, even when I can’t see him directly. It’s a discomfort I can’t shake, no matter how hard I try. I can almost feel his eyes on me, even though I don’t dare look up to check. Every instinct tells me not to acknowledge him, but the pull he exerts on me is nearly magnetic.
The professor enters, and the class begins. “Okay, so we all know that creative writing is rooted in imagination,” he says with a smile, looking around the room. “But where do we get our inspiration?”
I take a deep breath, trying to focus. The professor looks around the room expectantly. “Miss Sinclair?” He calls my name, and my head snaps up, meeting his gaze. I feel the heat in my cheeks, but I force myself to answer.
“We can get our inspiration from many things,” I begin, my voice steady despite the wild beating of my heart. “Real-life experiences, TV, movies. Some even get it from music, books, the people around them. The possibilities are endless.”
The professor nods, clearly pleased. “That’s right. Inspiration is everywhere. But how do we, as writers, go about putting that inspiration to paper?”
I’m about to answer when he turns to Silas, who’s seated a few rows ahead, his eyes still locked on me. “Mr. Blackthorn, would you like to chime in?”
Silas smirks, the hint of a laugh in his eyes, before he speaks. “Sure. We can take inspiration, throw it on paper, even if it’s a jumbled mess at first. Then, we organize it, refine it. Whether on paper or a laptop, it doesn’t matter. As long as it flows, we let it out.”
The professor chuckles. “Good answer, Mr. Blackthorn.” But my attention is elsewhere. The way he said it so casual, like he’s giving instructions on a mundane task has something in it that feels… dangerous. Like the words themselves are coated with something dark. It makes the hairs on my neck stand up.
The rest of the class is a blur, my mind too focused on Silas’s presence to pay attention. I feel like I’m suffocating, trapped in a room full of people I don’t know, with his eyes still trained on me. His gaze is heavy, pressing into me like he’s trying to break me down from the inside out.
When the bell rings, signaling the end of class, I practically flee the room. I can’t get out of there fast enough. I make my way down the hallway, the sound of my footsteps too loud in my ears. I lean against the cool brick wall outside, desperate for a breath of air, but I’m not alone for long.
I hear his footsteps before I see him. The soft, measured thud of his boots against the ground. Silas walks past me, not acknowledging my presence, but I can feel him. It’s like his entire being is suffused with something that pulls at me, something dark and almost too powerful. He doesn’t even spare me a glance, yet I know he’s aware of every movement I make.
I breathe in, trying to steady myself. “Can I help you?” I ask, my voice sharp, but the words feel weak even as they leave my mouth. I know exactly what this is.
He stops, his head tilting slightly as he looks at me from the corner of his eye. Without a word, he walks up to me, his presence closing in like a storm. He’s impossibly close now, too close, and my body tenses automatically.
“You can just let me have you,” he whispers, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down my spine. “Let me make you mine. No fight. No resistance.”
The words hang in the air, thick with possessiveness. The way his voice dips, that silky yet dark tone, makes something stir inside of me. Something I don’t want to acknowledge.
I laugh, trying to keep my composure, but it sounds forced. “Good luck with that,” I say, my voice harder than I feel. “I’m not anyone’s, let alone someone I don’t even know.”
He doesn’t seem phased. Instead, a dark, knowing smile curls at the corners of his lips. “You will be, Whether you realize it or not.”
I swallow, my throat dry. His words settle in my chest like stones. But I don’t let him see how much they affect me. “Keep dreaming,” I mutter, pushing past him, but my heart races in my chest, and his voice lingers in my mind like a shadow.
I head back to my dorm, the words he spoke still echoing in my head. His breath had been warm against my ear, and his voice had carried a dangerous promise. There was power in those words dark, quiet power that I could almost taste on my tongue.
But I’m not his. I won’t be. I refuse.
Yet, something about the way he looked at me, the way he spoke to me, twists my insides. I can’t shake the feeling. Something about him is so intense, so consuming, that part of me wonders if I already belong to him. And the thought is both terrifying and exhilarating.
I shut the door behind me as I enter my room, but his words, his presence, follow me. I try to drown them out, but I know it’s only a matter of time before I see him again. And next time, I won’t be able to avoid him forever.
Silas
I watch her walk away, her defiant words still ringing in my ears.
“Good luck with that.”
She thinks she can resist me. She thinks she has a choice. It only makes me want her more. That fire in her, the way she looks at me like I’m just another man like I don’t hold the power to bring her to her knees. It’s maddening.
My fingers twitch at my sides as I clench my fists, forcing myself to stay still when every fiber of my being screams at me to follow her. I’ve waited too long. I’ve searched for too long. And now she’s here, right in front of me, but she doesn’t even realize what she is. Who she is.
My Eleane. My queen. My ruin.
Or at least… she was.
Now, she walks away from me like I’m nothing. Like I don’t matter. And that’s unacceptable.
I exhale sharply, my chest rising and falling as I watch her disappear down the hall. Her blue eyes, her fiery hair, even the way she moves it’s her. But it’s not. This version of her is stronger somehow, more untamed. A reincarnation of my love, and yet she doesn’t remember. She doesn’t know. But I do.
Cassius steps up beside me, and I don’t even need to look at him to feel the disapproval rolling off him in waves. He always does this always tries to stand between me and what’s mine.
“Can’t you leave her alone?” Cassius sighs, his voice tired, as if he’s been through this before. “She’s not Eleane.”
My jaw tightens as I turn to him, my golden eyes flashing with something dark, something ancient.
“No, she’s not Eleane,” I admit, my voice smooth as silk yet sharp as a blade. “But she has her spirit. And I want more of it.”
Cassius shakes his head, frustration clear in his every movement. “I told you, Silas, back off. We don’t need her to die this time.”
I move before I can think, gripping his shirt and slamming him back against the cold stone wall. A growl builds in my chest, low and dangerous. “We?” I sneer, my fingers tightening against the fabric. “You mean your wolves, don’t you?” My voice drops to a whisper, venom dripping from every word. “You still think you can control fate, Cassius? Still think you can take what’s mine and destroy it for your precious pack?”
He scoffs, though there’s a flicker of unease in his eyes. “You don’t own her, Silas. You never did. And if you keep this up, you’ll get her killed….again.”
The air crackles between us, thick with an old, festering hatred. I push him back harder before finally releasing him, shoving him away like the filth he is.
“I won’t let you and your damn wolves win this time,” I growl, my voice low and full of a promise. “You won’t sink your claws into her. You won’t twist fate in your favor. She will be mine. And this time, I won’t let you take her from me."
Cassius stares at me, something dark swimming in his gaze. He doesn’t say another word. He simply straightens his shirt and walks away, disappearing into the shadows.
I exhale sharply, trying to push down the fury boiling inside me. My hands are still shaking as I slam the door to my dorm shut, locking myself inside. I stalk over to the couch and drop onto it, dragging a hand through my hair as my head falls back against the cushions.
I don’t know her name.
That realization gnaws at me like a dull blade slicing through my gut. I’ve found her, and yet she’s still a mystery. Who is she now? What does she call herself? I need to know. I need every detail, every thought that runs through her head.
I turn my head toward the small wooden table beside me, my eyes locking onto the framed photograph that sits there. A picture of me and Eleane, her from another lifetime. Another world. My fingers brush over the glass, tracing the curve of her face, the warmth of her smile frozen in time.
“Eleane…” I whisper, my voice almost breaking. “I found you again. And I swear, I’ll protect your reincarnation. I won’t let the wolves have you this time. You were my queen then, and you’ll be my queen now.”
I close my eyes, inhaling deeply as I try to steady the storm raging inside me. But it doesn’t help. Not when I know she’s just down the hall. Not when I can still feel the heat of her presence lingering in my veins.
I can’t stay still. I won’t stay still.
I rise to my feet and move to the door, my body acting on its own. The hallway is quiet when I step outside, the air thick with midnight silence. My eyes flick to Cassius’s door closed, locked. Good. He won’t interfere tonight.
I move toward her dorm, the pull between us undeniable. It’s as if something unseen is dragging me closer, something stronger than fate itself. When I reach her door, I hesitate for the briefest moment before pressing my palm against the cold wood. My heartbeat is steady, but there’s an ache in my chest that won’t fade.
“I will have you,” I whisper, my breath ghosting against the door. “You don’t know it yet… but you’re already mine.”
The words are not a threat. They’re a fact. A truth written in the stars long before this life, long before any of us existed. She was mine before, and she’ll be mine again.
No matter what it takes.
