Page 97 of Shattered & Returned

And his warning was clear: the wrong kind of attention from the immortals watching me would be dangerous.

I adjusted my rumpled dress, smoothing the fabric as best I could. Head high, I strode toward the exit without gracing him with so much as a backward glance, not even one of disdain. But just before the door clicked shut behind me, his low chuckle curled through the air, sparking fresh heat between my thighs.

The tunnel’s damp chill rushed over my flushed skin, a stark contrast to Nero’s searing presence. A thought struck me: despite Sebastian’s warnings, despite everything, I’d never felt safer than when trapped in Nero’s arms.

Maybe I was broken. Maybe I always had been.

A figure peeled off the wall of the archway. My hands came up instinctively, weaving magic sparking at my fingertips, until the dim light revealed Orren’s familiar features.

“Apologies for startling you, Bloom.” His gaze carefully avoided my disheveled state. “I’m to escort you back. Lately, the campus isn’t secure after dark.”

No shit.

I didn’t know when I’d acquired this royal treatment, the hellhound guarding my nights, Orren shadowing my days. There was something unsettling about how similar they felt, especially since the hellhound never left the tower grounds.

“We’re collecting Sindy first,” I said, forcing steady breaths past the lingering ache Nero had left behind. I wouldn’t abandon my friend.

As we crept through the tunnels, I could still feel Nero’s phantom touch on my skin, his taste on my lips, his promise humming in my bones. Whatever game we were playing, whatever truth he wanted me to remember, I had a nagging feeling that time was running out for me to figure it out.

Chapter

Thirty-Two

Bloom

Festival Trap

The news of Nero’s disappearance hit me like a physical blow, bitterness rising in my throat. Of course, I’d been the last to know, always kept in the dark, always one step behind.

That moment in the archives had changed everything. When Nero uncovered my scars, when he traced them not with pity but with something like reverence, it carved a fissure straight through my defenses.

The way he looked at me then…I’d spent a lifetime hiding these marks, these wounds. But under his gaze, under his touch, they didn’t feel like shame. They felt like proof that I’d survived, that I’d endured.

“Your pain is mine.”

Not empty comfort but a vow as real as the scars beneath his fingers.

He understood me in ways no one else could. And somehow, impossibly, I felt his anguish too, like an echo in my own bones. Soulmates might be fiction, but this connection between us defied explanation.

That night, I’d been ready to throw caution to the wind. All my rules about propriety, about never crossing that line with a professor, none of it mattered now. I’d been prepared to freefall into whatever this was between us, consequences be damned.

Even now, the memory of his torment sent heat coiling low in my belly. The cruel way he’d denied me release, knowing full well I couldn’t find satisfaction on my own. My thighs pressed together at the remembered ache, at the frustration that still lingered like an unfinished chord.

But I didn’t regret it.

For the first time, I’d dared to hope. Maybe, after graduation, we could be together. But now he was just gone. No word. No goodbye. No explanation. Not even a note left on my pillow. As if I meant so little to him, just a passing distraction. The hurt cut deeper than I’d thought possible.

Rumors swirled through the tower. Some claimed they’d seen Nero and his team leaving through the gate, but no one knew where they’d gone. Orren must have gone with him, and the hellhound was nowhere in sight. I already missed him sleeping at the foot of my bed.

“Where did Professor Nero Ravencrux go?” Sindy murmured again as we sat at a corner table in the hall, ears pricked for gossip from the milling students.

After the fire ant incident, most students had quit harassing me, so I could relax, at least a little, and enjoy downtime with Sindy. We sipped our afternoon chocolate drinks, though mine tasted dull, my mind too tangled in thoughts of Nero to focus.I hoped he could somehow sense my displeasure, that it might drag him back to explain himself.

Because of that, I didn’t mind Sindy repeating his name. Part of me even believed, or hoped, that if we said it enough, it would itch at his ears like a rash and send him back.

“There’s no fog at the gate anymore,” I said for the tenth time now. “No sounds of battle.”

Sindy swirled her drink. “Maybe he killed all the hunters and monsters outside. Could be on vacation now.” She leaned in, lowering her voice. “I heard his beautiful assistant, the blonde, didn’t go with him. You think they’ve been sleeping together?”

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