Page 14 of Shadowed Fate

I appear in a flash of blinding light, my heart hammering wildly in my chest.

As the light fades, I am met with the sight of an enormous, grand castle, looming over us in all its gothic splendor. The imposing structure is surrounded by a dense forest, the trees reaching towards the sky and shrouding the grounds in an unnatural darkness. The thick fog that engulfs the lanterns lining the drive adds to the surreal atmosphere.

Lochan and Callen stand beside me, their expressions unreadable. My mouth is dry, and my tongue feels heavy as I try to calm my racing heart.

The air is cool, like it was back home, so I figure I’m at least still in the same hemisphere. Maybe. Probably. An aroma of burning candles mingles with something sweet and floral, as if the forest is hiding a secret garden within it.

The faintest hint of something metallic lingers. I forget to breathe as I take in the magnitude of it all. This place is surreal, like something out of a fairy tale.

And my feet feel like they’re encased in concrete. I try to take a step forward, but nothing happens. I look down and see my knees shaking.

Callen's hand finds mine, and his light touch sends a bolt of sensation through me. He pulls me up the cobblestone path towards the main steps. Lochan follows behind, his presence a heavy weight at my back. I want to turn around and run, to escape this strange and intimidating place, but Callen's grip on my hand is firm and unyielding.

As we approach the imposing steps, a figure emerges from the shadows. I take in the man descending towards us and. His presence is commanding, intimidating. I find myself involuntarily shrinking back.

"Dean Charling," Callen advises me with a whisper.

The Dean's eyes lock onto mine. I fight the urge to look away, forcing myself to meet his gaze. His lips are set in a thin line, his expression stern and unyielding. He's dressed impeccably in old-fashioned clothing, a handkerchief peeking out of his breast pocket. His shock of white hair matches his deathly pale skin.

"Lochan, Callen," he nods curtly. "I see you've succeeded in your task. Prompt and reliable, as always."

I swallow hard, my throat dry. There's something about Dean Charling that sets my nerves on edge, a barely concealed danger lurking beneath his polished exterior.

"Miss Ryan," he addresses me directly, his voice clipped and formal. "Welcome to Grimstone Academy. I trust your journey was... uneventful?"

I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. How do I even begin to describe the bizarre events that led me here?

"I..." I start, then clear my throat. "It was... interesting."

"Indeed. We'll speak more tomorrow morning. For now, someone will show you to your living quarters.”

My mind races. Living quarters? How long am I expected to stay here? And what about…

"Fiona," I blurt out. "My friend. She'll notice I'm gone. I need to contact her, let her know I'm okay."

Dean Charling's expression doesn't change, but something flickers in his eyes. "There's no need to concern yourself with your friends or family."

The word 'family' coils around his tongue like a serpent, and I suddenly feel cold all over.

“But—" I start to protest.

"All will be explained in due time," he cuts me off. "For now, rest. Acclimate yourself to your new surroundings."

I can't shake the feeling that Dean Charling knows far more about me than he's letting on. And that thought terrifies me more than anything else I've encountered tonight.

I watch as a shaggy blonde guy lopes up the steps, his confident movements making him seem almost larger than life. As he gets closer, I can see that he's another impossibly beautiful man, with chiseled, rugged features and blond hair that shines like gold in the light from the lanterns. He's tall, muscular, with deep brown eyes that crinkle as he grins.

"Lochan! Is that a smile I see?" He elbows the scowling man in the ribs.

Lochan's glower deepens. "Shut it, Rory."

Rory and Callen exchange a look. I shift uncomfortably, acutely aware of how absurd it is that I’m standing here, next to these otherworldly men.

"Brigid, you're in good hands with Rory." Callen winks, and heat floods my cheeks.

Dean Charling clears his throat. "Rory, please show Miss Ryan to her quarters. Lochan, with me."

Lochan follows the Dean without a word or a glance toward me, like I don’t exist to him. My stomach twists with an odd mix of disappointment and annoyance.

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