Chapter 2: The Seat Next to Him

The next morning, Elena Rivers walked into her first-period class—Literature—and immediately regretted not arriving earlier.

The classroom was already packed, students chatting loudly as they found their seats. The only available spots were in the front row, right next to Mrs. Calloway's desk, or at the far back—where a single seat remained empty.

Next to him.

Damien Nightshade.

Elena hesitated at the doorway, gripping the strap of her backpack.

Maybe she could ask Mrs. Calloway for a seat change. Maybe she could pretend to be sick and skip class altogether.

Before she could make a decision, the teacher clapped her hands for attention.

"Take your seats, everyone," she said, adjusting her glasses. "We're starting now."

A few students groaned, dragging themselves into their chairs. Elena sighed. There was no escape.

She walked toward the empty seat at the back, keeping her head down, pretending not to notice the way people whispered as she passed. She could already hear the rumors forming.

Elena's sitting next to the new guy.

Do you think he'll talk to her?

He never talks to anyone.

She ignored them.

As she reached the desk, she finally risked a glance at Damien.

He was leaning back in his chair, one hand resting on the desk while the other tapped lazily against his notebook. His hoodie was pulled up slightly, revealing the sharp angles of his jawline.

Up close, he was even more striking than she had realized. His black hair was slightly tousled, like he had just rolled out of bed, and his silver eyes—though currently focused on nothing in particular—had an eerie, almost hypnotic depth to them.

Elena hesitated for half a second before pulling out the chair and sitting down.

Silence.

Damien didn't even glance her way.

She shifted uncomfortably, placing her books on the desk and glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

He didn't move. Didn't fidget. Didn't tap his foot like most students did when they were bored. He just sat there, completely still.

It was… unnerving.

"Open your books to chapter three," Mrs. Calloway instructed. "We're discussing Gothic literature today. And I want each of you to pair up and analyze a passage together."

Elena stiffened.

Pairs.

She didn't need to turn her head to know what that meant.

Everyone in the class was already partnered up, chatting and laughing with their friends. And she—

She was stuck with him.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, slowly, Damien turned his head to look at her.

His silver eyes met hers, unreadable and cold.

Elena swallowed hard.

"Uh…" she started awkwardly, flipping open her book. "So, I guess we're partners?"

Damien didn't reply.

Instead, he just… stared at her.

Not in a normal way. Not in the way guys sometimes did when they were trying to figure out if they knew you from somewhere.

His gaze was intense, studying her like she was a puzzle he couldn't quite solve.

Elena's skin prickled.

"Do you… talk?" she blurted out before she could stop herself.

Damien's lips twitched slightly—almost like a smirk—but it vanished before it could fully form.

"I talk when there's something worth saying," he said, his voice deep and smooth.

Elena blinked.

"Well, this is worth saying," she muttered, pushing the open book toward him. "We have to analyze the passage on page sixty-two."

Damien's gaze flickered down to the page.

For a moment, she thought he might ignore her completely. But then, without a word, he reached forward and turned the page himself, scanning the passage with the ease of someone who had probably already read it before.

Elena watched him carefully.

His fingers, long and elegant, trailed lightly over the words. His nails were slightly longer than usual—not freakishly so, but just enough to make her notice.

"'Beware the man who walks in the shadows,'" Damien murmured, reading the first line aloud. "'For his hunger is endless, and his heart is forever cursed to crave what he cannot have.'"

A chill ran down Elena's spine.

It wasn't just the words—it was the way he said them.

Low. Steady. Almost like a warning.

Her heart thumped once, hard against her ribs.

Damien closed the book and turned to her, his silver eyes locking onto hers.

"Do you believe in curses, Elena?"

The way he said her name made her shiver.

"I… I don't know," she admitted. "Do you?"

For a moment, he didn't answer.

Then, very softly, he said—

"Yes."

The bell rang.

Elena jolted in her seat, realizing the entire class had passed in what felt like a blur. Students were already gathering their things, chatting about lunch plans.

Damien, however, remained still.

Without another word, he picked up his books, stood up, and walked away—disappearing out the door before she could say anything else.

Elena sat there, heart racing.

Damien Nightshade was more than just mysterious.

There was something about him.

Something dark.

Something dangerous.

And for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to look away.