Chapter 22 HAUNTED DAWN
CLARA'S POV:
Sleep mocked me all night.
No matter how hard I tried, my eyes refused to stay shut. Every time I drifted close to rest, she was there again - the woman with the silver eyes, her voice but a whisper and a command.
Even now, hours later, her words still refused to be quiet.
“You cannot hide. You cannot run. Fate has already written the path…”
I pressed my palms to my face, groaning softly into the darkness. “What does that even mean?” My voice came out low, tired, almost hoarse.
It was barely morning, but the chill made me curl into myself, blanket pulled to my chin, my heart still unsteady from that dream - or whatever it was.
Because no matter how much I tried to convince myself it was just a stress-induced nightmare, it felt too real.
The light, the warmth, the mark that burned and then disappeared… I could still feel it, right under my skin.
A shiver ran through me. My fingers brushed the back of my elbow again, searching for the glow that wasn’t there.
Nothing.
Just smooth, cold skin.
But the memory of that warmth haunted me - like something waiting beneath the surface.
I sighed, turning onto my side. “Get a grip, Clara. It was just a dream.”
Except it didn’t feel like one.
Her face, her words, that strange pull… it all felt too connected. And the way she’d said “You cannot hide from what stirs you to him.” I swallowed hard at the thought -
Who was she talking about? Who was him?
The question hit me before I could even pretend not to know.
My heart skipped, uninvited thoughts sliding back to him \- Professor Asher. His voice. His closeness. The way his eyes seemed to see straight through me yesterday.
I sat up abruptly, shaking my head. “Nope. No, no, no. Not going there again.”
But even saying it out loud didn’t help. His face was there, carved into my mind like a mark.
The thoughts of him lingered in my mind as I dragged myself out of bed, rubbing my heavy, sore body from a night of tossing and turning.
I couldn’t miss class - not today, not with his lecture being the first thing. My reflection looked as exhausted as I felt: puffy eyes, hair a complete mess.
I tied it up lazily into a bun, brushed my teeth half-asleep, and threw on a hoodie and jeans, too drained even to pretend to care.
By the time I stepped outside, the early morning chill bit at my skin. I hugged my arms tightly around myself, fighting a yawn.
The sky still looked half-asleep, streaked with faint orange. Everything around me felt too quiet, too still.
And yet, that woman’s words kept ringing in my head, almost tauntingly-
“You’re fated to him, Clara. Fated to find each other.”
I blinked hard, shaking it off. “Stop it. Just stop,” I muttered, walking faster towards class. The last thing I needed was to start the day obsessing over a dream - or over him.
By the time I reached the lecture hall, I tightened my grip on my bag strap, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.
The sharp scent of chalk hit me - grounding for a moment, until I looked up and caught Jake’s eyes two rows away.
His head was tilted slightly, a small, familiar smile tugging at his lips. His gaze should’ve calmed me… but it didn’t.
I tried to return the smile - tried - but it came out more like a twitch. My lips barely moved. My stomach was still in knots, my mind still spinning from the night before.
Just as I was about to slip quietly into a seat at the far end, Jake’s voice carried across the lecture hall.
“Really? You’re sitting there?”
I froze halfway, already sensing the faint smirk behind his tone.
I turned my head slowly, meeting his gaze. He sat leaning back in his chair, one arm draped casually over the backrest, his brows raised like he was both amused and slightly offended.
I blinked at him, too drained for any back-and-forth.
Jake tilted his head. “Why do I feel like you’re ignoring me?”
A muscle in my jaw twitched. I didn’t trust myself to answer, not when every cell in my body still buzzed with leftover tension from that dream.
So instead, I just exhaled quietly, walked over, and slid into the empty seat beside him without a word.
Jake’s grin widened instantly. “Hmm. That’s my girl.”
I shot him a look that could’ve frozen lava.
He chuckled underneath his breath, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry.” The corners of his lips still twitched like he was holding back laughter.
I shook my head, unable to help the tiny sigh that escaped me. “You’re impossible.”
He leaned slightly toward me, voice low enough not to draw attention. “Yeah, but you still sat here.”
I ignored him, pulling my notebook from my bag and flipping it open. My fingers fumbled with my pen as I tried to focus on the board instead of his grin.
From my peripheral vision, I saw him rest his elbows on the desk, his body angled slightly toward me. I could feel his gaze lingering - steady, observant.
I refused to look up.
“Hey,” he said quietly after a moment.
I hummed a vague “Mm?” without turning.
“You, okay?”
That made me glance at him. His tone wasn’t teasing anymore. His expression had softened - brows drawn a little, lips pressed together like he was studying my face too closely.
I raised a brow. “What do you mean by that? Don’t I look okay to you?”
Jake squinted slightly, tilting his head. “No, actually. You don’t.”
I blinked. “Wow. Thanks for that.”
He smiled faintly but didn’t back down. “You look like someone who didn’t get enough sleep last night.”
The truth of it hit harder than I expected.
I looked away, down at my notes - though the words on the page were just blurs of ink. My lips parted like I wanted to say something, but the air caught in my throat instead.
He wasn’t wrong.
Because how could I have slept after ‘that’? After the dream - the silver-eyed woman, her voice echoing through my head, and those haunting words.
I chewed the inside of my cheek, gripping my pen tighter to anchor myself in the present.
Jake leaned a little closer, lowering his voice. “Rough night?”
I forced a shrug. “Something like that.”
His eyes softened further, concern flickering behind the teasing spark he usually carried. “You sure you’re, okay?”
“Yeah,” I lied, with the faintest smile. “Just… tired.”
He studied me for a beat longer, clearly unconvinced, but then nodded. “Alright. But you know, if you ever feel like actually sleeping again, coffees on me.”
I glanced at him, and the smirk was back - small, warm, a little mischievous.
Despite myself, a quiet chuckle slipped out. “You don’t give up, do you?”
“Not when it comes to things worth trying for.”
The way he said it - calm, certain - sent a flicker of heat up my spine. I looked down again quickly, pretending to write something, my pulse betraying me.
Just then, the sharp click of shoes against the floor stole my attention, and the class went silent.
At first, I thought it was Professor Asher - but when I lifted my head, I froze.
It wasn’t him.
Standing at the entrance was a woman I’d never seen before.
She looked… striking. The kind of woman who could walk into a room and make everyone forget what they were talking about.
Her hair was a fall of gold silky and loose, catching the light every time she moved. Red lips. Bright, confident smile. And a body that didn’t just enter the room - it commanded it.
My brows knitted unconsciously as my gaze followed her across the hall. She was wearing a black pencil skirt that hugged her curves, a cream blouse tucked neatly into it, and heels that added even more confidence to her stride.
Every step she took was deliberate.
Controlled.
Like someone who knew exactly how much attention she could draw - and didn’t mind it one bit.
Around me, a few whispers started to ripple through the hall, mostly from the back rows. Jake leaned slightly closer, murmuring under his breath, “Well… this is new.”
I barely reacted. My eyes were glued to the woman as she reached the front of the room.
She couldn’t have been much older than Professor Asher - late twenties, maybe early thirties - but there was something about her aura that didn’t feel entirely ordinary.
It wasn’t just her beauty. It was… familiarity. Something I couldn’t place, but it made my stomach twist uncomfortably.
Her gaze swept across the hall, bright and assessing, pausing for half a second when it landed in my direction.
I didn’t know why, but it made my throat go dry.
She smiled then - a slow, knowing smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
And when she finally spoke, her voice was smooth, melodic, and confident enough to fill the room without needing to shout.
“Good day, everyone.”
The class was dead silent. Every word rolled off her tongue like honey, deliberate and calm.
“I’m Elsie,” she continued, her red lips curving wider, “Elsie Silver.”
For a second, it was like her name echoed.
Even the air seemed to still.
I didn’t know who she was, but something about the way she said her name - like it carried weight, like it meant something - made the hairs at the back of my neck stand on end.
Jake shifted beside me, whispering, “You know her?”
I tore my eyes from her face just long enough to mutter, “No.”
But I could still feel that strange unease crawling beneath my skin.
Because the way she’d looked at me just now-
It felt like she did know me.