Chp 37
1881 Words
PEARL – POV
By the time I made it back to the dorm room, the sky had already begun to shift to soft hues of gold and peach. My legs felt heavy, like each step dragged the weight of everything I was carrying—Lucien’s cryptic warnings, the near disaster with Demyan, the fear of being found out.
When I pushed the door open, my heart skipped a beat—not from nerves this time, but mild relief.
Demyan wasn’t there.
Instead, I was greeted by the familiar calmness of Killian, who was quietly scribbling something into his notes, and Rowan, who looked up from where he sat on the window ledge, his face immediately lighting up when he saw me.
“There you are,” Rowan said, hopping down and walking toward me with a warmth that almost made me forget everything else. “We were wondering where you ran off to.”
Killian glanced over his shoulder, nodding. “Demyan said you needed some air. You alright?”
“I’m fine,” I lied, forcing a smile as I placed my book bag on the table. “Just needed a breather.”
Rowan tilted his head slightly, his eyes scanning me a little too closely, like he was trying to see past my walls. “You look pale.”
“I’m always pale,” I mumbled, avoiding his gaze.
He chuckled softly but didn’t push. Instead, he moved towards the table and poured me a glass of water. “Here. Hydrate. Whatever Demyan dragged you into must’ve drained your energy.”
I took the glass with a quiet, “Thanks.”
Killian looked up from his notes again, this time narrowing his eyes slightly. “By the way, where is he? He looked… weird when he left. Didn’t say a word, just walked out.”
I stiffened.
“He—uh, maybe just tired,” I muttered quickly. “He’s always dramatic.”
Killian snorted under his breath while Rowan raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re okay?”
I nodded, sipping the water to stall. “Yeah. Just tired. That’s all.”
But I could feel Rowan’s eyes linger on me, and for a moment, I caught a flicker of something unreadable in his expression—concern? Suspicion? Something else?
I turned away before I could figure it out. My mind was already full.
Where had Demyan gone? Was he also trying to make sense of what happened? Of how I felt so warm and close and almost exposed?
And why, even in this room with two other people, did it suddenly feel like something was missing?
I was trying my best to act normal—chatting a little with Killian, nodding at Rowan’s teasing, and mostly keeping my eyes on the glass of water I still hadn’t finished.
But every beat of my heart was out of rhythm. My body felt warm, my thoughts jumbled. I kept replaying that moment in the garden over and over again—my chest pressed against his, his breath brushing my ear, the way his hands had wrapped around me so firmly… and how I almost didn’t want to pull away.
Almost.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, and my fingers froze around the rim of the glass.
He stepped in.
Demyan.
His robe was half-loose like he had rushed, hair slightly messy, and his eyes... They scanned the room, and when they landed on me, they stayed.
I felt like my lungs forgot how to function.
Killian looked up. “Hey, man, where did you vanish?”
Demyan didn’t answer right away. He kept looking at me, like he was trying to read something from my face, something unspoken. Then he blinked and shrugged, finally turning to Killian with a faint smirk. “I needed air.”
His voice was calm, casual—but I knew that tone. I’d heard it too often. It was his shield, his way of hiding something deeper.
Rowan crossed his arms. “We were just talking about you.”
“Oh?” Demyan raised an eyebrow, then walked to his bed like he wasn’t curious at all.
But I knew better. He was too quiet. Too composed.
He didn’t even glance back at me, which somehow made my chest tighten more than it should.
I stood up, pretending to tidy my desk. “I should probably go over tomorrow’s lesson.”
Rowan frowned. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yes I am,” I lied again, then looked briefly toward Demyan.
He still wasn’t looking at me.
Which made everything feel a little worse.
The room was cloaked in darkness, save for the pale sliver of moonlight streaming through the window. Rowan and Killian were already fast asleep, their breathing soft and steady. I, however, was wide awake—tangled in thoughts, buried in confusion, and completely restless.
I lay on my side, back turned toward the rest of the room, blanket pulled up to my chin. My heart still hadn’t settled since Demyan returned. He hadn't spoken to me. Not a word. Not a look. And yet, I could feel his presence more than anyone else’s.
Maybe it was my guilt. Or the way my body still remembered how his felt against mine. The warmth. The strength. The way his breath had tickled my skin like—
The mattress shifted slightly behind me.
I froze.
He was close. I could feel it. Too close.
My breath caught as I peeked over my shoulder. Sure enough, Demyan was turned toward me, now lying just inches away. His arm was stretched across the space between us, and one leg had somehow slipped just over mine like he was hugging a pillow.
What in the moon goddess’s name—!?
“Demyan…” I whispered, barely audible.
No answer.
His eyes were closed. His breathing slow. He was… pretending to be asleep?
My body stiffened as I tried to inch away, but his hand suddenly twitched—and landed right near my waist.
I swallowed hard. Was this a coincidence? Was he shifting in his sleep or was this a game?
He mumbled something under his breath—something like “Too warm,” and turned again, this time his face nearly brushing my shoulder.
I wanted to push him off.
I wanted to scream.
But all I did was lie there—burning.
He was so close I could smell him. That scent I was so afraid of. That scent that was pulling something out of me I wasn’t ready for.
My heart thudded. If I moved, he might wake up. If I didn’t, I might melt into him.
Oh goddess… what do I do?
I stayed frozen in place, afraid to breathe too loud, afraid to move too much. Demyan’s fingers twitched again, brushing lightly against the fabric near my hip. I squeezed my eyes shut.
This is torture.
Was he really asleep? Or was he testing me?
The heat between our bodies was unbearable now. I felt like I was slowly turning into steam under the covers. I could feel the shift in the air, the slight movement of his breath so close to the back of my neck.
Maybe… just maybe… it was a dream for him. Maybe he was dreaming about something—or someone—and had no idea what he was doing.
But then…
Why me?
Why always me?
His hand grazed the curve of my arm again, so gently it made my skin shiver. I bit my lip. I couldn’t afford this. The potion was already wearing off—I’d noticed how much more aware Demyan was of my scent earlier. If he got too close now, if he smelled me properly, everything could collapse.
Everything.
I tried to hold my breath and shift just a little further away. But then he let out a soft groan—like he was waking.
Panic flared in my chest.
I lay perfectly still, waiting… watching his reflection in the window across the room, looking for a sign. But his eyes never opened. Just a soft sigh escaped his lips as he rolled back slowly, giving me just a little distance.
Finally. A breath of space.
But even with the inches between us, my body felt like it was still trapped in that moment—his touch, his warmth, the danger of being found out.
And yet…
A traitorous part of me missed the closeness the moment it left.
By the time dawn cracked over the horizon, I hadn’t slept a single minute.
I got out of bed quietly, careful not to wake the others. My body was still hot from the strange closeness with Demyan, my mind tangled in thoughts I couldn’t untangle.
I splashed my face with cold water and stared at myself in the mirror.
“Keep it together, Pearl,” I whispered. “You're not here for romance.”
I was still drying my face when a knock echoed softly against the wooden door.
Strange. It was too early for visitors.
Cautiously, I walked to the door and opened it just a crack.
No one was there.
Only a folded piece of parchment rested at the doorstep.
My fingers trembled slightly as I picked it up and unfolded it.
One sentence.
“You’re not the only one hiding something.”
There was no name. No signature. Just those words in elegant, sharp handwriting.
My heart dropped.
Who? Who else knew?
Was it Lucien again? Someone else? How many people here were playing a role?
And what did they know about me?
My hands clenched the paper as I quickly shut the door behind me, heart racing. I turned—and nearly jumped when I saw Demyan already awake, sitting on the edge of his bed, watching me.
His eyes flicked to the paper in my hand.
I shoved it behind me instinctively.
His brows furrowed.
“Everything okay?” he asked, voice low and still groggy from sleep. I forced a small smile.
“Yeah,” I lied. “Just… a reminder to study harder.” But I could feel it. The balance was shifting.
Someone was watching.
Someone knew.
And soon, I’d have to decide who I could really trust.
*___*----*___*
DEMYAN – POV
Sleep didn’t come easy. Not with him—Perin—sleeping inches away from me.
I shifted onto my side, pretending it was just a natural turn in my sleep. My hand brushed his arm and stilled. His skin was soft, far softer than I expected from a boy who always acted like he had something to prove.
I let my hand rest lightly for a moment longer, pretending to readjust the blanket.
His waist was narrow. Delicate.
Strange.
And when my hand brushed lower along his side, just slightly—his hips—
They curved.
Not like a boy’s. Not sharp and narrow. But gently. Naturally.
My breath caught.
What are you, Perin?. I leaned in a little closer, letting my nose hover near the curve of his neck. My wolf stirred inside me, almost expectantly. If he was in heat or masking something, I’d know.
But all I could pick up was a faint trace of herbs. Faint. Unnatural.
Potion?
- Writer
