CHAPTER 65
ARIA
I stirred groggily, the thunderous knock at my door jolting me upright, heart thudding far too fast for just being startled awake.
“Aria! Come on, we’re running late!” Mary’s voice cut sharply through the wooden door, insistent, impatient.
I pressed a hand to my forehead, wincing as the world tilted oddly. My body felt wrong—strange. My throat was so dry it burned, scratchy like I’d swallowed sand, and every nerve beneath my skin hummed with an unnatural sensitivity. Even the faint brush of the sheets against my legs made me flinch.
What the hell…
I swallowed, but it didn’t help; the tightness in my throat refused to ease.
My stomach knotted, unease clawing its way up my chest as flashes of last night drifted through my foggy head—shadows, a heaviness pressing down on me, the pull of something I couldn’t name.
But the more I tried to remember, the more it slipped through my fingers like smoke.
Did something… happen?
The thought hit hard, too sharp, and I shoved it back before it could root deeper.
No.
I was just overtired.
Stressed.
That was all.
"Aria!"
“Uh… just a minute,” I called hoarsely, my voice cracking.
It sounded foreign, brittle, like it belonged to someone else.
I sat there a moment longer, staring at the carpet as my pulse throbbed in my ears.
I wanted to believe it was nothing—that it was all in my head—but how my body felt said otherwise.
And that was the part I couldn’t explain.
Another round of knocking rattled the door.
“Aria, seriously! We don’t have time for you to space out. Hurry up!” Mary’s tone sharpened, every word clipped with impatience.
I flinched, dragging myself out of bed even though my legs still felt oddly unsteady, as if my body wasn’t quite mine.
My throat ached when I swallowed again, and I winced, reaching automatically for the water bottle on the nightstand.
Empty.
Of course.
I stumbled into the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face, willing it to shock me awake.
My reflection stared back at me, pale and unsettled, hair a tangled mess. I barely gave myself a second to look before shoving my toothbrush into my mouth, rinsing in record time, and yanking my hair into a hasty knot.
Clothes—anything. I pulled on jeans and a sweater in a blur, fingers fumbling with the zipper of my coat.
The knot in my chest hadn’t loosened, not one bit, but I shoved it down, buried it, because Mary’s voice was right outside again.
“Aria! I swear, I’m leaving without you this time.”
I yanked the door open before she could start another round, plastering on the most casual smile I could muster.
“See? Ready. Not late.”
Mary gave me a look but turned on her heel, already marching down the hallway.
“Finally. Let’s go.”
I slung my bag over my shoulder, trailing after her, each step careful, deliberate. Pretending.
Pretending my body didn’t still feel off, like I was wearing skin that wasn’t quite mine. Pretending last night wasn’t gnawing at the edges of my memory, trying to force its way back.
The elevator chimed at the end of the hall, a soft ding that made Mary pick up her pace. I trailed after her, tugging my coat tighter as if the fabric could hold me together.
My steps felt oddly heavy, but I forced them steady, one after another, until we reached the waiting doors.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing that it was already crowded.
Mary stepped in without hesitation, sliding into the small pocket of space near the buttons.
I followed, hesitating for a beat before squeezing inside. The doors shut behind us, and suddenly the walls felt too close, the air too thin.
And then I saw him.
Professor Lian.
He stood near the centre, tall and composed despite the crush of bodies pressing in on every side.
My stomach lurched, heat rushing up my neck.
Of all the people to run into right now…
The space was so small, too small, and as more people shuffled in behind us, I was pushed forward—right into him
My shoulder brushed his chest, and the heat that shot through me was so sharp, so startling, I froze.
I could feel the outline of him against me, every breath I took making me hyperaware of how close we were.
My heart thudded so hard it felt impossible that no one else could hear it.
Every nerve in my body went taut, my heart thudding so hard I swore he must hear it.
I squeezed my eyes shut for half a second, wishing my body would stop betraying me, wishing my heart would stop pounding so hard it ached.
The elevator lurched again as more people crowded in, pushing me even harder against him.
My back brushed his chest, and I froze, every nerve alive, too aware of the rigid line of his body pressed to mine.
His scent—pine and something darker, richer—wrapped around me, seeping into my lungs until it was all I could breathe.
My pulse skittered out of control.
I told myself to move, to shift away, but there was nowhere to go.
Nowhere at all.
And then I felt it—the undeniable response of his body to mine. My stomach dropped, heat climbing my neck, my whole skin prickling with awareness.
I didn’t dare to look back at him, not at first. But then I did, unable to help myself.
Professor Lian’s face was taut with control, jaw locked, lips pressed in a line as if he were fighting himself.
His chest rose and fell too sharply against my shoulder, and his eyes—God, his eyes—were heavy with something raw, something restrained.
It wasn’t just an attraction.
It was hunger.
For one, breathless moment, it felt like he might lean down, like he might let go of the careful wall he always carried around him.
And maybe I would let him.
My stomach clenched, a mix of shame and want twisting inside me, leaving me trembling and breathless.
Then, for the briefest instant, I saw it—a flicker of raw hunger, lust in his pupils..
I sucked in a sharp breath, my chest tightening, fingers curling against the edge of my sleeve as if holding myself together could make sense of the intensity I’d just glimpsed.
He blinked sharply, forcing his eyes away as if the intensity of his own gaze had caught him off guard, as if he feared I’d seen something I wasn’t meant to
A sharp shove from behind jolted me forward, and I stumbled against him, my chest pressing uncomfortably close.
Before I could recover, his hands moved almost instinctively, one lightly gripping my arm to steady me as he turned me, guiding my back against the cool metal of the elevator wall.
His other arm swung out, braced firmly against the wall beside me, creating a barrier that blocked the crowd pressing in from every side.
I was trapped, pressed flush against him, but instead of panic, a strange, dizzying awareness of his presence took over.
He held me there, steadying me, his arm creating a barrier that kept the others at bay.
Every brush of his sleeve, every subtle shift of his weight, sent shivers along my spine.
The press of his chest against mine was subtle but undeniable, a solid wall protecting me from the jostling crowd.
For one suspended moment, I could do nothing but breathe him in—pine, warmth, and something darker threading underneath.
His head bent, lowering just enough that his lips brushed close to my ear.
“Be careful,” he murmured, the words a low growl meant for me alone.
It sent a shiver racing down my spine, because the tone wasn’t polite or casual—it carried the same edge I’d heard in that creature’s voice, warning and protective and tinged with something I didn’t understand.
Before I could react, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.
He stepped back instantly, his expression smoothed into perfect composure, as though nothing had happened at all.
Professor Lian walked out first, his stride steady, measured, like he hadn’t just pressed me against him, like he hadn’t whispered words that still rang in my chest.
And I followed numbly, clutching my bag, wondering if I’d imagined the whole thing.