Chapter 4 #2
Nolan blinks, then grins, sheepishly. “Yeah. I haven’t had much use for it.” He ducks his head, but there’s a warm flicker in his eyes. “Can I walk you to lunch after class?”
“Uh, are you sure you want to be seen with the human?”
“Only if you are okay being seen with a lowborn warlock.”
Something about the way he says it—light, but not quite casual—tugs at me.
I meet his eyes, smile smaller this time. “Deal. I think I can manage it.”
The rest of class passes in a blur. I manage to trace one more rune without it flaring this time, though I can still feel magic humming under my skin.
Nolan glances over now and then, offering quiet little tips—when to lift the quill, how to steady the stroke—but never in a way that makes me feel small. If anything, he’s trying to help me keep it together.
Professor Marris doesn’t call on me or approach our table. But her gaze lingers more than once. Not unkind. Just...considering.
When the final bell hums through the room, students start packing up fast. The whispers spark again the moment chairs scrape back.
“Did you see—”
“Twice in Combat—”
My fingers tighten around my notebook. Before the knot in my chest can pull tighter, Nolan pops up beside me with exaggerated energy, slinging his bag over one shoulder.
“Well,” he says brightly, just a little too loud. “You survived. First Runic Arts class down. No one exploded. We’re calling that a win.”
A surprised laugh escapes me before I can stop it. He has a charm about him. It’s clumsy, but sweet, and I think I like that vibe.
He grins and offers a hand to help me up. “Come on. Lunch. You promised to walk with me.”
The words are easy, but the intent is clear. He’s distracting me on purpose. I tuck my notebook into my bag and take his hand, letting him pull me to my feet. The warmth of the contact steadies something inside me.
We head toward the door, and Nolan’s already talking again.
“So, uh, pro tip? Don’t sit near the Fang table unless you like your food cursed. Also, if anyone offers you a drink with purple foam? Don’t.”
I shake my head, a small smile curling my mouth despite everything. Between him and Tamsin, I might actually like it here.
The dining hall is packed.
Long tables stretch from wall to wall under a vaulted ceiling charmed to look like a twilight sky today. Floating candelabras drift between the rafters, casting a warm gold glow. The air hums with low conversation, bursts of laughter and the occasional flicker of casual magic.
But the second I step through the doors with Nolan, a few heads turn. I catch the whispers under the noise.
“There she is.”
“Raiden was mad.”
“She has power.”
Nolan shifts beside me, fingers tightening on his bag strap almost as if he’s debating pulling me back out of the room. I almost suggest it myself, before I spot Tamsin waving from a smaller side table tucked near one of the stone pillars. Her grin is bright, eyes dancing.
Relief flickers through me.
“Lindsay!”
Grinning, I start toward her, but Nolan hesitates at my side.
When I glance back, he’s already turning, mumbling, “I should, uh—find my usual spot—”
In his rush to get away, his bag swings wide and clips a floating trash bin. It wobbles dangerously, nearly tips. He catches it just in time, cheeks going pink.
I bite back a laugh; he’s so clumsy. “Hey, Nolan.”
He straightens, glancing over. “Yeah?”
I nod toward Tamsin’s table. “You want to eat with us?”
For half a second, surprise flickers in his eyes—then his face lights up.
“Yeah. I’d like that.”
His smile is genuine now, voice steady. He falls into step beside me without hesitation. As we approach, Tamsin flicks her eyes from Nolan to me and back again, one brow lifting. When we reach the table, she leans back in her seat, grin curling her lips up like a cat that just caught a bird.
“Well, well. Look who you’ve recruited. A lowborn who has escaped overflow. Seems you can’t escape us completely after all.”
Nolan rubs the back of his neck, cheeks pink again. “Hope you don’t mind me joining.”
Tamsin laughs. “Relax, Nolan. You’re safe here. I don’t bite.”
Nolan manages a small smile. “Good to know.”
I slide into the seat beside Tamsin, and Nolan takes the chair across from us. Around us, the dining hall hums—clinks of cutlery, bursts of laughter, the occasional shimmer of magic from students showing off.
But a few glances still drift toward our table. A few too many whispers. I keep my gaze fixed on the worn grain of the table, pretending not to hear them.
“So.” Tamsin props her chin on her hand, gaze playful. “Nolan, are you trying to replace me as Lindsay’s best friend? Should I be jealous?”
Nolan flushes, but this time he manages a crooked grin. “Uh…definitely not trying. Just lucky enough to get invited to lunch.”
I smile, warmth blooming under the nerves. Best friend? Try my only friend.
Tamsin smirks. “Mmm-hmm. I see how it is.”
Nolan laughs, relaxing a little more. “Hey, if anyone deserves credit, it’s Lindsay. I almost dumped half a bottle of ink in her lap.”
I shake my head. “You were the only reason I didn’t ruin my first rune.”
He arches a brow. “Team effort, then.”
Tamsin chuckles. “Classic Nolan.”
Nolan groans. “Please tell me that’s not my academy reputation.”
“Could be worse,” Tamsin says with a wink. “At least you’re not the guy who set his own boots on fire on the first day.”
Nolan laughs, shoulders fully relaxing now. “Fair point.”
“But still, I’m the best friend. Or I will be.” She pushes a drink over to me and gives me an extra sandwich from her tray. “I’m at least making sure she’s fed. You, however, missed the servers, so you’ll have to get in line.”
She nods toward the back of the room, where a short line curls past what looks like a high school cafeteria counter—if high school cafeterias came with magically reheating trays and floating soup ladles. The smell isn’t bad. Familiar, even. Which makes it all the more surreal.
“Luckily, I brought my own food today,” Nolan says, reaching into his bag. He unfolds a napkin with flourish like he’s about to serve high tea, then plunks down a bag of Lays, a brownie, and a six-inch sub in actual Subway paper.
Okay. Sure. Real-world snacks in magic school. Why not just pull out a bag of Hot Cheetos and call it a spell ingredient.
“How in the void did you get human food?” Tamsin gapes at him.
“My uncle brought it last night,” Nolan says, a little smug. “Had to come through on business. Perks of being an envoy for the bloods.”
She snorts. “Guess you have to find them where you can.”
Their easy banter pulls something tight in my chest. For the first time since I landed in this spell-soaked fever dream of an academy, this feels…normal. Or it’s faking it really well.
I reach for my drink, but a flicker of heat prickles along the side of my neck.
A magnetic kind of heat. I glance up, and of course, across the room, Raiden lounges at what I assume is the Fang table.
Slouched like he’s half-asleep, one hand curled around a mug.
But his eyes—those strange, glowing gold eyes—are locked on our table.
I look away too fast. Take a sip of juice like it’s a life-saving potion. It’s not even good. Too sweet. Too warm.
Tamsin’s gaze flicks to me, just for a second. I expect a quip, maybe something biting. But she only raises an eyebrow before turning to Nolan, like she didn’t just catch me red-handed in a stare-off with a nightmare in a crimson robe.
But all she says is, “So, Nolan. What’s your next class?”
Nolan perks up. “Alchemy. Hopefully without setting anything on fire this year.”
I smile faintly. Grateful for the change of subject, and the reminder that apparently spontaneous combustion is a thing now.
Tamsin snorts again. “Just don’t blow up the east wing. I like my dorm intact.”
“That was one time, and it didn’t blow up anything important,” Nolan says, mock wounded.
“One time too many,” Tamsin shoots back, grinning.
I shake my head, smiling. “Should I be worried if I get scheduled for Alchemy?”
Nolan’s expression turns earnest. “You’ll be fine. Worst case, sit near the door.”
I laugh, and the tension in my shoulders eases.
Then it’s back, that prickling awareness along my spine. I glance up again, too quick to stop myself. Raiden hasn’t moved. His eyes are still locked on me, watching silently.
His gaze meets mine, steady. No smirk. No wink. No apology for staring. Heat coils low in my stomach, unwelcome. Not an attraction exactly. Just—instinct. Like something wild knows you’ve seen it watching you. And you might be in danger. I tear my eyes away, face suddenly warm.
Tamsin’s still talking—something about a spell duel that ended in frogspawn last year—but her voice fades beneath the pulse in my ears.
Nolan notices. He leans in, dropping his voice. “Ignore them.”
I nod, forcing a breath. “Trying.”
Tamsin glances between us. “You’ll get used to it,” she says lightly. “Or they’ll get bored. One of the two.”
I’m not so sure.
Another glance, quick this time—Raiden is still there. Still watching.
A soft chime rings out overhead, not a bell, exactly. More like a note plucked on a string inside my skull. Along with the knowledge that lunch is over. Chairs scrape, bags shuffle, voices rise.
Nolan stands, flashing me a grin. “Want to walk to your next class together?”
“Yeah,” I say, grateful for the out.
We head toward the door. I don’t look back at Raiden’s table. I don’t have to. The air feels heavier behind me, buzzing like a silent warning.
I don’t know what I did to piss in his Cheerios, but clearly I did something. And his attention? It isn’t friendly.