Page 22 of Shadowed Fate

"Miss Ryan," he intones, voice clipped. "Do come in."

I step inside, my feet sinking into a plush oriental rug. The door clicks shut behind me, and I'm alone with the Dean. His gaze feels like a physical weight.

"Please, sit," he says, gesturing to a high-backed chair.

I perch on the edge, hands clasped tightly in my lap. The silence stretches, thick and oppressive.

"Grimstone Academy," Dean Charling begins abruptly, "is not a typical school, Miss Ryan. We exist to nurture and control extraordinary abilities."

My heart races. I force my face to remain neutral. "What kind of abilities?"

His lips curl into something that might be a smile. "Magic, Miss Ryan. The kind that shapes reality itself."

I want to laugh, to call him crazy. But the shadows in the room seem to dance at his words, and I remember the swirling darkness in my own bedroom.

"And you think I have... magic?" The words taste strange on my tongue.

"We know you do," he says, leaning forward. "Shadow magic, to be precise. Rare and potentially quite dangerous."

My mind reels. I’m just a girl who works at a shop all day and heats up lasagna for dinner which I eat while watching Netflix. How can I bethat, and also what Dean Charling is saying?

The Dean's eyes narrow. "Miss Ryan, you're quite unique. We haven’t come across anyone with your particular…talents for a very long time."

"How did you find me?" I ask, curiosity warring with misgiving.

“We've woven protective wards and have an early detection system that alerts us any time unsanctioned supernatural activity flares in the world. Much like a stone thrown in water creates ripples, your powers awakening sent a surge of magic we couldn't ignore. It resonated with the warning wards specifically attuned to shadow magic, a rare and volatile force. Simply put, Miss Ryan, you lit up our radar like a beacon in the dark."

"Why bring me here?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Dean Charling's expression grows grave. "Shadow magic was thought to be gone from our world. It’s not something to trifle with, and you are here as much for your own protection as for others."

I feel a chill. What exactly does he think I'm capable of?

The Dean's words hang in the air, heavy with implication. My throat tightens as I think of the shadows and the ravens last night. Should I tell him? The urge to confess burns in my chest, but something holds me back. A quiet voice whispers caution.

"Is there... anything else I should know?" Dean Charling asks, his gaze sharp behind those spectacles.

I swallow hard, forcing my face to remain neutral. I don’t know what the Dean is, and the thought occurs to me that he could be a mind reader like Tiernan. Still, I don’t want to tell him. "No, sir. It's just... a lot to take in."

I can't shake the feeling that revealing everything would be a mistake. Not yet. Not until I understand more.

Dean Charling leans back, steepling his fingers. "Rest assured, Miss Ryan, you are safe here at Grimstone. We have measures in place to contain and nurture talents such as yours."

"Contain?" I echo, unease prickling along my skin.

"A mere precaution," he says, waving a dismissive hand. "Your safety, and that of your fellow students, is our utmost priority."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. His words are meant to comfort, but they leave me cold. What aren't they telling me?

"Do you have any other questions?" he asks, his tone suggesting our meeting is drawing to a close.

"No, thank you," I manage, rising from my chair. My legs feel unsteady, my mind reeling. I stop. “Actually, I have one question.”

The Dean waits, his fingers steepled and his gaze attentive.

“What am I?” My voice is shakier than I’d like it to be.

“That, Ms. Ryan, remains to be seen.”

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