7. Kaia
For a heartbeat, nothing happens. Then, like ink bleeding through parchment, a figure materializes from the darkness.
If Aspen is the calm before the storm and Torric is the raging inferno, then Malrik is the seductive whisper of danger in the dark. He steps forward with predatory grace, all lean muscle and coiled power beneath perfectly tailored clothes. His jet-black hair is artfully styled, a stark contrast to his porcelain skin that seems to shimmer with an otherworldly light. But it's his eyes that capture me—silver-gray and piercing, like he can see straight through to all the secrets I've tried so desperately to keep hidden.
Those eyes lock onto mine, and the intensity in them makes my stomach do things I’m not ready to think about. "My apologies," he says, his voice a low, silky purr that sends shivers down my spine. "I didn't mean to intrude. I was merely... curious about our new arrival."
While I’m fixated on this man, I swear I hear Aspen chuckle.
He moves closer, and I catch his scent—dark spices and sweet shadows, an intoxicating combination that makes me want to lean in despite myself. My shadows stretch toward him like curious children, brushing against his sleeve before recoiling as though unsure. His silver-gray eyes narrow slightly, and I swear I see a flicker of recognition—or hunger. But it’s gone before I can be sure.
Malrik's eyes widen fractionally, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his face before it's replaced by a slow, dangerous smile. "Fascinating," he murmurs, voice dropping lower. "What exactly are you?"
My heart races as his intense gaze pins me in place. The question hangs in the air, loaded with curiosity and something darker, more hungry. I swallow hard, forcing myself to meet those mesmerizing eyes.
"I'm Kaia," I manage, hating how breathless I sound. "Just... Kaia."
Malrik's smile curves wider, equal parts alluring and predatory. "Oh, I very much doubt there's anything 'just' about you, Kaia."
He moves closer, and my shadows reach out again, brushing against him like curious cats. If he notices, he gives no sign, continuing to study me with that unnerving intensity.
"Your magic then," he prods, clearly not letting it go. "What is it exactly?"
When I don't answer, his grin sharpens, a dangerous glint appearing in his eyes. "Perhaps I could help you unravel that mystery. Shadow magic is... something of a specialty of mine."
He reaches out, fingertips ghosting over my cheek. His touch is cool, almost ethereal, and my breath catches. For a moment, the rest of the world fades away—there's only Malrik, his mesmerizing presence, and the dangerous dance we seem to be locked in.
"Tell me, Kaia," he purrs, leaning close enough that I feel his cool breath on my skin. "What do you desire most? Power? Knowledge? Or perhaps... something more?"
My heart pounds so loudly I'm sure he can hear it. I open my mouth to respond, though I have no idea what I'm going to say, when—
The door slams open with a resounding bang, shattering the moment like glass.
"Looking for me, Trouble?" a bright, mischievous voice calls out. "Or did you get lost in the broody boy's eyes?"
I jerk back, blinking rapidly as reality crashes back in. Malrik straightens, his expression smoothing into a mask of cool indifference. Only then do I remember Aspen's presence, guilt washing over me as I catch his raised eyebrow.
Finn practically bounces into the room, all barely contained energy and chaos. He's shorter than the others but still athletic, with wild auburn hair and the most troublemaking green eyes I've ever seen. Freckles dust his nose, and his grin is wide and infectious as he surveys the scene before him.
"Finn Veylan, just in case you forgot," he announces with an exaggerated bow. "Resident chaos-bringer and rescuer of damsels in distress. Though you don't seem very distressed. Disappointed?"
Aspen chuckles from his seat, shaking his head. "Finn, you're early."
"Or you're all late, depending on perspective," Finn replies with a wink before turning his attention back to me. "And you, Kaia—didn't I tell you we'd be friends? Look at you, already getting the grand tour of broody boys central. Lucky girl."
I can't help but snort, though it comes out more like a strangled laugh. "I'm starting to think 'broody boys central' is an understatement."
Finn's grin widens as he claims the armchair Mouse had been investigating. Mouse yowls indignantly, darting back to my shoulder to curl up in a huffy ball.
"Did you see that?!" Finn exclaims, pointing at Mouse. "Even your shadow-cat has attitude. I love it. We're going to get along famously, you and I."
"Glad I pass your rigorous approval process," I deadpan, though I feel my lips twitching upward. There's something disarming about Finn's energy, like he refuses to take anything—including himself—too seriously.
Malrik, however, doesn't share my amusement. He watches Finn with the barest furrow in his brow, silver eyes narrowed as though Finn is a puzzle he can't quite solve.
"Do you ever enter a room quietly?" Malrik asks, his tone sharp but tinged with something that sounds almost like fascination.
"Where's the fun in that?" Finn shoots back without missing a beat. He turns to me, eyes twinkling. "You don't mind, do you, Trouble?"
"Trouble?" I echo, raising an eyebrow.
"That's you," he declares confidently, leaning forward like we're sharing secrets. "Kaia, bringer of chaos, breaker of broody hearts, and newest member of our merry band of misfits."
I open my mouth to argue, but Aspen beats me to it. "You've known her less than a day, Finn. Maybe let her settle in before assigning nicknames?"
Finn waves dismissively. "Nicknames are a sign of affection. Right, Trouble?"
I shake my head, fighting a smile. "You're impossible."
"See? We're already bonding." He winks, sprawling in his chair with the kind of casual confidence only he could pull off.
Aspen sighs, though I catch his faint smile. "This is Finn Veylan, as he so thoroughly announced. You'll likely see more of him than you'd prefer, but he does grow on you."
"Like mold," Malrik mutters, though there's no real bite to it. He moves toward the door, his earlier intensity fading as he retreats back into the shadows. "Enjoy your stay, Kaia. Something tells me you'll be... interesting." With that, he's gone, leaving behind only a trace of his spicy-sweet scent and an unsettling flutter in my stomach.
"Don't worry about him," Finn says cheerfully, as if Malrik's ominous exit is perfectly normal. "He's always that dramatic. You'll get used to it."
I glance at Aspen, who nods. "Malrik has his reasons, but he's not as unapproachable as he seems. Give it time."
"Time," I repeat, exhaling slowly. “Right.” Seems to be a theme around here. Time to process the fact that I've apparently entered the realm of gorgeous-but-confusing men who all seem to know more about me than I do."
Finn grins, unfazed. "Welcome to the Shadow Wing, Trouble. You'll fit right in."
Aspen rises gracefully, gesturing toward the grand staircase at the far end of the room. "Come on, Kaia. I'll show you to your room before Finn decides to make you his official audience or claim you as his roommate."
"Hey! Maybe she wants a roommate." Finn protests, but stays sprawled in his chair, giving me an exaggerated salute. "Later, Trouble. Try not to miss me too much."
As I follow Aspen up the staircase, my shadows flit around us, eagerly exploring every shadowed corner and alcove. The energy here feels different—darker, yes, but also warmer, like the shadows themselves are alive and watching with careful interest.
"Why does this place feel so strange?" I ask, glancing down as one of my shadows stretches curiously toward a particularly ornate banister carving.
Aspen looks back at me, his expression thoughtful. "The Shadow Wing responds differently to everyone. Maybe it just... recognizes something in you."
"Different," I echo, testing the word. "Is that what we're calling it?"
He pauses on the landing, turning to face me fully. "Sometimes being different is exactly what's needed. I’m sure you'll understand soon enough."
Before I can press him further, we stop before another door. This one is smaller than the entrance but just as intricately carved, its runes pulsing faintly in the dim light.
"This is you," Aspen says, stepping aside.
I hesitate, my hand hovering over the doorknob. Part of me wonders if it might explode when touched—given everything else today, it wouldn't be the strangest thing. But when I finally gather my courage, the knob turns easily, revealing a cozy space that makes my breath catch.
The walls are painted a deep gray that feels more like an embrace than an absence of light. A plush bed draped in silvery blankets sits against one wall, while a sturdy desk occupies the opposite corner, already stacked with leather-bound books I definitely didn't bring. The shadows in the room react immediately to my presence, swirling around my wrists like affectionate cats welcoming me home.
Mouse leaps from my shoulder to investigate the bed, sniffing the pillows before settling in with an approving chirp. "Well," I murmur, stepping inside. "It's not terrible."
Aspen's soft chuckle follows me. "High praise indeed. Get some rest, Kaia. Tomorrow will be... eventful."
I don't bother asking what he means by that. Somehow, I already know I'm not ready.
Aspen’s lips quirk in a faint smile, but his gaze lingers on me for a moment longer than feels casual.
Once he's gone, I shut the door quietly look around the room trying to take it all in. This is nothing like my apartment. A humorless laugh escapes me. Nothing is quite like that shithole, but this? this is too much. I’m kind of afraid to touch anything because I definitely can’t afford to replace it.
The shadows in the room seem to welcome me, swirling around like they already know I belong here. But do I? The cozy space feels like a stranger’s home, too perfect, too much. Nothing like the life I left behind.
I don’t belong here.
I sigh, and curl up on the extremely comfortable bed, finally letting exhaustion wash over me. My shadows drape around me like a protective cocoon while Mouse purrs steadily by my feet. The events of the last twenty-four hours swirl through my mind—not just the parade of impossibly attractive men, but everything else too. The lingering question of why I'm really here. The overwhelming sense that I'm completely out of my depth. The growing certainty that I'm not going to survive whatever comes next.
But between my shadows' gentle presence and Mouse's soothing purr, sleep claims me before I can spiral too far into doubt. My last coherent thought is a half-formed prayer that tomorrow might make more sense than today.
I really should have known better.