Chapter 17 SHADOWS THAT FOLLOW

Chapter 17 SHADOWS THAT FOLLOW
Storm’s POV:

The bell rang, slicing through the air like a blade. For once, I didn’t flinch. Chairs scraped, bags zipped, voices rose again — the room exhaled after the pressure of Mrs. Clayborne’s presence.

Cole leaned slightly toward me, not too close, just enough for his words to reach through the hum of movement. “Hey,” he said quietly. “You sure you’re, okay?”

The question hung there, heavy in the air between us. No one had asked me that and meant it in weeks. Maybe months.

I gave a small nod, though it wasn’t convincing. My throat felt tight, my chest heavier than it should’ve been.

He studied me for a second, eyes flicking briefly to my trembling fingers before offering a small, lopsided smile.
 “Alright,” he murmured. “Then let’s just get through the day.”

And somehow… that was enough. Not pity. Not interrogation. Just presence.

Students began filing out, the noise rising as desks scraped against the floor. I spotted Mira still sitting across the room, her eyes fixed on me with a mix of worry and hesitation. When our gazes met, she stood.

A moment later, she was walking toward me. Her steps were uncertain but determined, the kind of walk someone makes when they’ve been overthinking their next words.

“Andrew,” she said softly, stopping a few feet away. “Are you… are you okay?”

The words barely landed before she let out a shaky sigh and muttered under her breath, “Actually that was a stupid question,”

But I heard her.

And so did Cole.

He turned slightly, one eyebrow lifting, his tone steady but edged. “You know,” he said, “That was a stupid question.”

Mira blinked, her expression tightening in surprise. “Excuse me?”

Cole didn’t flinch. He shifted his weight, crossing his arms casually — not angry, but firm. “Who asks someone if they’re okay right after a teacher humiliates them in front of the entire class?” His voice was calm, but there was steel underneath.

“You really think he’s fine?”

Mira’s lips parted, the shock giving way to irritation. Her cheeks flushed as she snapped back, “Well for someone who claims to be smart, that was your first question to him the moment he sat beside you, wasn’t it?”

That hit.

The tension between them was sharp now, her voice tight, his jaw clenched.

And despite everything, the awkwardness, the lingering humiliation - a small laugh escaped me.

It wasn't loud… just surprised. The kind that slips out when the world feels too absurd too process. Watching the two of them bicker like kids over who cares more about me was ridiculous.

For a moment, that laugh reminded me that I was still human, still capable of feeling something lighter than fear or anger. But the relief was fleeting, reality pressed back in fast.

And the laughter faded just as quickly as it came.

“Enough,” I said, sharper than I meant to. My voice cracked through the air, cutting them both off.

They froze.

I could feel both of their eyes on me, like I was a rope being pulled from two ends, ready to snap.

“I’m fine,” I added, quieter now, though my tone was firm. “Really. There’s no need to fight over me.”

Cole exhaled, his shoulders dropping slightly, the fire in his eyes softening into guilt. “Sorry,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Mira looked away, arms folding across her chest. Her lips pressed tight, the guilt in her eyes matching his.

The silence that followed was thick — not angry, just… heavy.

I slung my bag over my shoulder; my pulse still unsteady. “Let’s just go,” I said, my voice low.

They both nodded wordlessly.

As we stepped into the hallway, the overhead lights flickered once, twice.
 I felt my stomach tighten.

Cole glanced up at the ceiling, brushing it off with a half-smile. “It’s just the wiring,” he said. “Happens all the time.”

But I wasn’t so sure. Because between the flickers, just for a heartbeat, I thought I saw something.

A silhouette. Still. Watching.

Then gone.

I swallowed hard, forcing my feet to keep moving.

Maybe it was exhaustion twisting reality.
 Or maybe… something darker was following me.

The noise should’ve felt normal. Comforting, even. But after that flicker, after that shadow — every sound seemed too sharp, too close.

None of us said a word for a few moments, but I didn't miss the way Cole kept glancing sideways like he was trying to piece something together but didn’t know where to start, with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

Finally, he spoke.

“Who’s… Lucian Vale?”

His tone was cautious, confused, not accusing. But the name still hit me like a physical blow.

My steps faltered.

Air caught in my chest. The world around me narrowed to the echo of that name rolling off his tongue.

He must’ve seen it, the way I froze mid-step. His brow furrowed slightly. “I just—Mrs. Clayborne said you killed someone named Lucian Vale, and I—”

He stopped himself when he saw the look on my face.

My pulse thundered. How was I supposed to tell him?

How was I supposed to tell him that Lucian was both my protector and my curse?

That he was also one of the reasons behind the nightmares I couldn’t escape — and the only person who had ever made me feel safe?

That he was the anchor I clung to when everything else fell apart… and the one who’d chosen to distance himself from me the moment I needed him most?

How was I supposed to tell him that the world saw me as a boy — but Lucian saw all of me — and that somewhere, twisted deep in the truth I couldn’t speak aloud… he was my mate?

My throat burned. My thoughts were a storm inside my skull.

Before I could even think of a reply, Mira’s voice cut through the silence like a blade.

“You know,” she said sharply, folding her arms, “For someone who claims to care, you’re kinda intrusive, don’t you think?”

Cole blinked, caught off guard. “Intrusive?”

“Yes.” She tilted her head; her tone edged with irritation. “You don’t just ask someone about something like that out of nowhere.”

He frowned, confusion flashing across his face. “I wasn’t trying to pry. I just—”

“—thought you’d help by digging up what he’s clearly not ready to talk about?” Mira interrupted, her voice rising. “What happened to letting Andrew tell us things when he's comfortable enough?”

Cole’s eyes narrowed slightly, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “I’m not trying to hurt him, Mira. Maybe if you stopped assuming everyone’s trying to—”

“Can you both stop?”

The words tore out of me before I could hold them back — sharp, loud, trembling.

They froze.

My chest rose and fell fast. My voice had echoed through the hallway, cutting through the noise around us. Even a group of students a few feet away turned for a second before continuing on.

“I’m tired,” I said, my voice cracking but firm. “I’m tired of being caught in between you two every time something happens. I don’t need either of you fighting over how to handle me. I just—”

I swallowed hard. “I just need silence. For once.”

Mira’s anger melted almost instantly. Her arms dropped to her sides, her expression softening.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, stepping closer. “We both are.” Her eyes flicked toward Cole, silently urging him to say something too.

He didn’t move at first. His gaze stayed on me, unreadable — some mix of guilt, worry, and something else he wasn’t saying.

Then, finally, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah,” he muttered, his voice low. “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to… push.”

The tension in my chest loosened just a little.

“Let’s just focus on the exercise instead,” he added, forcing a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I won’t pry anymore. Promise.”

For the first time in what felt like hours, I met his gaze — steady, sincere.

“Thanks,” I said softly.