Chapter 11: Louder Than War
Aurielle's Point of View
I woke to silence.
Not the comforting kind—the kind that crawls up your spine and sits there like a premonition.
I blinked at the ceiling of my bedroom, that grand carved canopy my father insisted I have, as if pretty wood would somehow replace his presence. My limbs felt heavy, like my body was trying to keep me from leaving this bed.
First day of school after the attack.
I could still hear the screeches. The smell of blood in the air. The way the walls trembled as that thing crashed into the cafeteria, claws like jagged iron, eyes too black to belong to anything mortal.
What the hell was that?
Why did Principal Valen act like she expected it?
Why did Alervon show up at the exact second I needed him?
And why couldn't I stop thinking about him since?
My thoughts scattered at the sound of rapid knocks.
Luna.
She burst in before I could even respond, dark curls bouncing, lip gloss shimmering like a promise she never intended to keep.
"Let's go, ice princess," she grinned. "First day back in the pit. I'm starving for chaos."
I sat up, groaning. "I'm not ready for this."
"You never are," she snorted. "But maybe a certain dark-haired brooding savior might make your day better?"
I looked at her sharply.
She smirked. "What? Alervon saved my sexy ass too. Least I can do is say thank you with my mouth… and maybe my tongue, if he lets me."
I nearly choked. "Luna!"
"Don't act like you didn't think about climbing him like a fucking tree when he saved you. Just imagine his hand around your wrist? Whew. I would've fake fainted just for CPR."
I rolled my eyes. "You're vile. I thought I wouldn't see you here after yesterday sleepover with Callista"
" Babe you know I can't stay away from you, and yes I'm vile but you love it," she winked. "Now come on. Let's go melt hearts."
""'
The school felt different.
The same lockers. The same faces. But the air?
Heavy.
People looked at me the same way they always did—boys with lust, girls with envy—but today, there was something else behind their eyes.
Curiosity.
Fear.
Like they were watching to see if I'd explode into demon fire or something.
Luna leaned in as we passed a group of whispering juniors. "Newsflash: Being nearly murdered makes you more interesting than usual."
"Fantastic," I muttered. "Maybe I should've died. Would've made me legendary."
"Don't tempt fate, bitch. I need someone to copy notes from."
Soon Luna and I separated moving to our first classes,hers different from mine. My first class was the same class I had with him that day.
My heart hammered as I made my way to class, not from fear from something else.
I told myself I didnt care if he was there my it felt like my body had a mind if its own.
Anticipating.
What it would be like to see him again. but when I go to class he wasn't there, but Luca was.
"Hey, you okay?'" He asked holding my gaze.
"I'm fine,"
"I came to visit you but the gurad won't let me in, they said they needed to kerp distractions away,"
"It's okay Luca, thanks for caring,"
And just at that moment the teacher walked in, Miss Thorn.
At that moment I hated myself for bring a horribly girlfriend.
Here he was worry about me and I've done nothing but think about another guy throughout today.
What is Wrong with you Auri?
The teacher started teaching and even with my guilt, I couldn't stop myself from wondering where he was.
Was this not his first class?
At some point I kept thinking he would walk into class any moment now, saying something along the line of having to vanquish mysterious creatures so he came late but he never came.
Soon after the class was over so I said goodbye to Luca who seem still worried but I reassured him I was fine. After that we all dispersed to our next classes.
"''
I was done with the stares.
After third period, I snuck away to the library, ditching Luna's endless chatter about how hot the new history teacher was. I needed quiet. A moment to breathe.
I found a corner by the window, surrounded by dust and untouched books. The light was warm, but nothing felt warm anymore.
I tried to read.
Tried again.
My eyes kept sliding off the words.
My mind was back in that moment—his saved me, his voice like velvet-wrapped knives.
The way he looked at me like I was the problem.
"What is wrong with me?" I muttered." F**king out of my head Alervon,"
I growled under my breath, slamming the book shut.
"Could you shut up?"
The voice was so cold it froze my blood.
Low, smooth, detached. Like he'd been watching me come undone from the shadows.
I turned.
Alervon.
Sitting two rows behind me, legs crossed, unreadable eyes scanning the pages of a dark-covered book.
"I wasn't even talking," I snapped embarrassed, hoping he didn't hear me say his name.
"You were thinking loud enough to be heard." He didn't look up.
Arrogant bastard.
I stood. "I don't need your lectures, Weirdo"
"I'm not here to lecture you," he said calmly. "I'm here to read and maybe watch."
I blinked. "Watch what?"
He finally looked up.
"Your unraveling."
My breath caught. The way he said it—it wasn't flirtation. It was fact. Cold. Precise. Like I was just a thread and he was the blade.
I grabbed my bag and stormed toward the aisle, fingers brushing spines until I found the book I came for.
I yanked it free—
And turned right into a wall.
No.
Not a wall.
Him.
He was suddenly there, towering over me, one hand pressed to the shelf behind my head.
Caging me.
"Move," I said, too breathless.
"No."
His body radiated heat like fire trapped in glass. Controlled. Dangerous. His eyes didn't blink. Didn't move.
He was just watching me.
Studying me like prey that had finally stopped running.
"You think hate makes you strong?" he murmured. "It makes you blind."
My hands clenched. "You don't know anything about me."
His lips tilted in a cold mockery of a smile. "I know everything I need to. You scream privilege and pretend it's pain. But your scars aren't wounds. They're excuses."
I didn't know when it happened—when our lips were suddenly this close.
My breath hitched.
And my mind?
Went straight to hell.
What if he kissed me right now?
What if I let him?
What if I yanked him closer by his collar and bit his bottom lip until he groaned and dragged me into the shadows where no one would hear?
What if he bent me over this shelf?
Would he be rough?
Would he whisper filth into my ear with that perfect, calm voice while pushing me to the edge of everything I swore I hated?
I hated him.
I hated him so much it made me want to feel him.
He leaned in, whispering into my mouth.
"You pretend you're strong. But I see the fear behind your fire. The ache. The loneliness."
My lips parted. Not for a kiss.
But for breath.
Because I couldn't breathe anymore.
And gods help me—I wanted to taste him.
Then, just as suddenly, he pulled back.
"Next time you talk to yourself in public," he said coolly, "try not to sound desperate."
He was gone before I could find words.
[TO BE CONTINUED…]