Shadows of intrigue

"Why do you think Damien is intrigued by that masked girl?" Maximilian queried, sipping the dark red liquid in his glass. To any human observer, it appeared to be wine, but only the night creatures in the room knew the truth of its contents.

Leonard's gaze followed Damien as he stepped out of the hall. His lips thinned as though he were pondering the same question. "I don't know either," he replied after a pause. "But this is the first time he's shown interest in anyone."

Maximilian smirked, swirling his drink lazily. "Perhaps she reminds him of someone."

Leonard arched a brow but refrained from commenting further. The unspoken name lingered heavily in the air between them—a name tied to a painful past Damien rarely allowed anyone to broach.

As the dignitaries began arriving, cameras flashed incessantly, capturing the grandeur of the university for the world to see. Guests poured in, draped in shimmering gowns and tailored suits, each vying to make an impression. Amidst the arrival of influential figures, a strikingly beautiful woman entered. She appeared to be in her late fifties, though her ethereal features and ageless demeanor betrayed her nature. She moved with a regal grace, her midnight gown glinting under the chandelier lights. Despite her youthful appearance, there was an air of ancient authority about her—one that silenced conversations and drew every gaze to her.

The dean and faculty hurried to greet the guests, offering their warmest welcomes. When they reached her, the dean bowed deeply, his voice trembling with reverence. "Your Highness."

The woman acknowledged the greeting with a slight tilt of her head, her piercing gaze scanning the room with an almost predatory focus. "Where is my son?" she asked, her voice low but commanding.

The dean hesitated, gesturing for a teacher to fetch him. But before the order could be carried out, the woman raised a hand, her gesture as graceful as it was absolute. "That won't be necessary," she said, her lips curving faintly as if she already knew where Damien was. Without waiting for a response, she disappeared into the crowd, her presence leaving a lingering sense of unease among those who had crossed her path.

Cora had slipped away from the bustling great hall, her instincts guiding her to follow Damien. She couldn't explain it, but there was something about him—something dark and magnetic—that drew her in despite the unease curling in her stomach.

They walked until they reached a secluded clearing near the shore, where the rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the rocks muffled the distant hum of music. The moonlight bathed the scene in a silvery glow, adding an almost ethereal quality to the moment.

Cora hesitated before settling onto a large stone, grateful to escape the suffocating stares and whispers of the crowd. She stole a glance at Damien, who stood a few paces away, his gaze fixed on her as though he were studying her every move.

"Aren't you going to take it off?" he asked suddenly, his voice calm yet carrying a note of challenge.

Cora stiffened, her fingers tightening on the edge of her dress. "I—I…" She faltered, avoiding his penetrating gaze. "I have a scar on my face," she lied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Damien's piercing eyes didn't waver, and his lips twitched into the faintest smirk. "Is that so?" he said, his tone betraying no emotion. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, the intensity in his gaze making her squirm.

Cora clenched her fists, willing herself to meet his eyes. But she couldn't—there was something in his expression that unnerved her, as though he could see straight through her façade and into the secrets she guarded fiercely.

"You're lying," he said softly, his voice almost teasing. "But that's all right. I'll find out what you're hiding, little bird."

Her breath hitched at the nickname he has been using on her , her heart pounding as he closed the distance between them. She shrank back as Damien reached for her hand. His touch was cool yet electrifying, sending a shiver down her spine. He pulled down the glove that covered her arm, his gaze sharpening when he saw the spot where she'd been injured before—a spot now perfectly healed, without even a scar to show for it.

Cora's breath caught in her throat. She hadn't thought to check her wound, and now the sight of her flawless skin filled her with dread. How could she heal so quickly—so unnaturally?

Damien's smirk deepened, his fingers lightly brushing against her hand. "Interesting," he murmured, his tone laced with curiosity.

Cora jerked her arm away, stumbling to her feet as panic surged through her. "I—I need to go," she stammered, her voice trembling with fear.

Damien tilted his head, his expression unreadable. "Have you agreed on the alliance I proposed?" he asked, his tone carrying a mischievous glint.

Cora frowned, her steps faltering. "What alliance?"

He stepped closer, the sunlight casting sharp shadows across his striking features. "Have you forgotten already?," he said, his tone playful yet ominous. "But one thing is certain—I don't take no for an answer."

Cora stiffened, a chill running down her spine. She didn't wait to hear more. Turning on her heel, she fled, the sound of his quiet chuckle following her into the distance.

Back in the great hall, Damien's mother, Liana observed the commotion from a distance, her sharp eyes catching sight of a young woman fleeing into the night. Her lips curved into a faint smile, but she said nothing, blending seamlessly into the crowd once more.

Liana's gaze swept the hall, her keen senses picking up the murmurs of intrigue surrounding her son. She made her way toward Maximilian and Leonard, her presence causing both men to straighten.

"Your highness" Maximilian greeted, his tone laced with respect. "It's been a while."

"It has," she replied, her voice smooth as silk. Her gaze shifted briefly toward the doors Damien had disappeared through. "What trouble has my son gotten himself into this time?"

Leonard chuckled dryly. "Perhaps it's not trouble, but curiosity."

"Curiosity?" Liana echoed, arching a delicate brow. Her smile was enigmatic, a mask that concealed her thoughts. "How intriguing."

As the day wore on, liana's attention remained fixed on the dynamics unfolding around her. She knew her son well enough to recognize when something—or someone—had truly captured his interest.

Meanwhile, in another corner of the great hall Amelia returned to Cora's side, her presence a comforting anchor amidst Cora's whirlwind of emotions. But even as Amelia tried to lighten the mood with her usual humor, Cora couldn't shake the memory of Damien's touch, the way his gaze seemed to burn into her soul.

Everywhere she went, she felt him—his presence lingering like a shadow, his words echoing in her mind. It was as though he had left a mark on her, one that refused to fade.

As the day wore on with the celebration still ongoing, Cora felt the scorching gaze of Damien on her , one that made her feel as if he knew her deepest secrets which she wasn't even aware of .