Page 8 of Nothing to Fear
Because I didn’t want to come here to begin with.
“Dad, Asher and I?—”
He puts his hand straight up to stop me mid-sentence, my mouth snapping shut like a child who’s being scolded.
“I don’t care. I don’t want to hear it. I love you, son, you’re a talented athlete and a wonderful son, but that will only get you so far. You need this degree, and you need to excel. The real world is harsh. Asher is your ticket to the life I’ve always dreamed of for you.”
What about the life I dreamed for myself?
The next day,after a night of fitful sleep, I bite the metaphorical bullet and go in search of Asher. Unfortunately for me, I find him in the dining hall surrounded by people eating lunch. I grab an apple, not really feeling like eating, even though athletes here have a strict meal plan we have to adhere to.
Sucking in a deep breath, I walk up to the table where he sits in a chair at the end. Asher makes eye contact with me, his irises flicking up to meet mine momentarily before lookingback at his meal in front of him. When he doesn’t acknowledge me, frustration starts to rise, and I shift from foot to foot.
“Just going to ignore me, then?”
“There’s nothing to say to you. We aren’t friends. Go back to pretending like I don’t exist, Silas.”
As if I’ve ever been able to do that.
“I met with my dad; you have to help me.”
God forbid I apologize for being an asshole and ask for his help. If anyone could help me get my grades up, it’s Asher Ambrose. I know that, he knows that, hell, my dad knows that. Which is why my dad chose him. It’s Asher or failure. I’ll never admit it out loud, but he’s my only option for getting out of the storm I’m in. For someone who has no fear of confrontation, I sure as shit avoid vulnerability like my life depends on it.
“No.”
My head rears back, anger spreading through my veins. I look around at the other students watching us, and my anger multiplies, embarrassment slashing over me like razor blades. My fists clench at my sides.
“Too fucking bad, Asher. You want to go explain to President Blackwood why you aren’t doing what he told you to do?”
Asher stands slowly, his chair screeching as he scoots it backward. He stands to his full height and meets me eye to eye, stepping into my space. The breath leaves my lungs, but I don’t let him notice, keeping my mask of pissed off arrogance firmly across my face. His scent engulfs me, a familiar scent of books, paper, and leather, and I realize I’ve never been this close to him before. The onyx of his pupils is so dark it’s captivating, and I couldn’t look away if I wanted to. I’m a rabbit caught in a snare, helpless to fight against him.
Asher leans into my space so we’re face-to-face, practically nose to nose, his next words spoken low enough for only me tohear. His breath is warm on my lips, and as I dig my nails into the palm of my hand to ground myself, I realize I’m trembling.
“Youneedme, remember that. You want my help? I’ll give it. Meet me in the archives at nine. Don’t be late.”
His shoulder brushes against mine as he walks past, and chills scatter across my skin from the spot. I stand still, wondering how the hell I let him get the upper hand here when a few laughs and voices pull me back into the present. My body starts to heat from the inside out, my skin clammy, my heart racing, my skin itching all over. I crack my neck from side to side in a failed attempt to alleviate some of the pressure building at the base of my skull.
I can feel their eyes still on me, their snickers, their whispered words. Fuck this. Fuck Asher. Fuck my dad. Fuck Corvus.
“Fuck off!” I snap at the group before stomping off toward my apartment to cool off when his words finally hit home.The archives.
“What an asshole.”
It waspresumptuous of Asher to assume I’d know where I was going to meet him, because the entrance isn’t known by everyone at Corvus. I can probably count on one hand how many students know the location of the hidden archives, and I have no idea who they are. I’m smart enough to know this was his way of testing me. If I wanted his help so badly, I’d find him. I wasn’t going to allow Asher to best me, so I asked around, got lead after lead, until I found a quiet junior named Emily, sitting alone outside, her back resting against a large white oak tree, her face buried in a book. After some convincing and unfair flirting on my part, Emily gave me the information I needed.
Noctis Archives is a hidden chamber off the library, theentrance concealed behind an ornately carved bookshelf deep within the theology wing. I run my fingers across the spines of books until I find the one titledSusurros—whispers—and pull it out softly. The lever releases with a light crack, the old wood creaking with a low moan as the shelf opens, revealing a narrow spiral staircase that descends straight into darkness, just wide enough for a single body to slip through.
Chills run down my spine as I peer into the abyss, quickly looking around to make sure no one has snuck up on me, not that anyone visits this part of the library, if the layers of dust mean anything. There’s a reason the door is here to begin with.
“Fucking Asher,” I curse under my breath as I take my first step down into the deep, using my cellphone flashlight to guide me. I have no idea how far it descends, but after my fifth step, the door above cranks closed with a soft thud that echoes loudly in the eerie quiet of the staircase.
Round and round I go until I can finally see the bottom, the iron steps coming to an end on what looks like an ancient stone floor. Candles flicker in sconces, casting long shadows across the rough stone walls. I turn off my flashlight, checking the time and seeing I’m ten minutes late. With an eye roll, I pocket my phone and straighten my spine, ready to find my nemesis.
For a split second today, I thought this was all a joke, that he wouldn’t be here, or that all of this was some ruse to freak me out or send me on a wild goose hunt. The rumors are heard by everyone who attends Corvus, that the grounds and walls are deeply haunted, that the families who founded the school belonged to a secret society with dark magic and beliefs at the center.
Asher’s too good to do something like that, though. No, this was just all a test from the beginning, to see if I had it inme to go through the hassle and headache of finding my way into the archives to meet him.
Joke’s on him, because late or not, I’m here.
