1. Chapter One - Unfamiliar Ground #3
I was even more confused by his voice, deep and steady in a way that settled straight into me.
His accent didn’t sound like anything I had heard since arriving here, unfamiliar but carrying a strange weight that felt older somehow.
The sound sent a slow sensation down my arms, similar to those ASMR videos I sometimes scrolled through, only stronger and far more real.
It was the way he spoke that made it stand out, pulling him out of the present and placing him somewhere else entirely.
And honestly, who even said “might I inquire” anymore?
Was that normal here?
I couldn’t tell if it was drawing me in or completely rattling me.
Even with cars rushing past and wind moving through the trees above us, his voice cut through everything.
It settled over me in a way that made the rest of the world fade.
A low hum of awareness built inside me, not quite fear but close enough to keep me alert.
I pushed it down and fell back on instinct, masking the unease and moving through the moment the way I always did when dealing with someone new.
Cautiously, I reached out and clasped his gloved hand.
The leather felt soft against my skin, but his grip sent a chill seeping through me.
My fingers brushed his wrist, and it wasn’t the damp cold of the rain but something colder, as though ice had settled into him long ago.
I told myself it was just the weather, the mist, or the draft in the air.
As we shook hands, our eyes met.
His were a striking green, almost unreal, the sort that held you in place. A thin break in the clouds let light slip through, deepening the color until it swirled like something hidden beneath dense woods.
Everything else about him told a different story.
His skin was pale, nearly drained of warmth, and his expression remained still, impossible to read.
Faint shadows rested beneath his eyes, the sort that didn’t come from one sleepless night.
It wasn’t fatigue alone. He wore exhaustion as though it belonged to him.
I pressed my lips together, steadying my breath, and managed a small grin. “Name’s Ira. Ira… Grace Loshe. Did you stop to chat with me for a reason, darlin’?” Saying my full name back felt as though it balanced things a little, even if it sounded strange coming out of me.
He didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he lingered, his grip still firm around my hand, as though it meant more than a simple greeting. His gaze moved slowly over my face, studying me in a way that sent unease rippling down my spine. It felt as though he were comparing me to something he already knew too well.
As if I were something expected.
Finally, he released my hand, his voice even and controlled. “Do you attend the university, darling?”
Every warning bell in my head started going off.
It was my first day here, and already I was being questioned by some intense guy who spoke as though he belonged in another century, wrapped up in a whole gothic vibe like we’d slipped into a period drama in the middle of a rainy street.
I glanced at the passing cars, noting enough people were around that, if I needed to raise my voice or get out of there fast, someone might notice.
Might.
Still, I stayed where I was, letting the moment stretch a little longer just to see where it went.
I nodded, brushing damp strands of hair away from my face. “Yeah, I do. What’s it to you?”
He exhaled softly, and something in him eased, as though he had been waiting for that answer. “That is… marvelous.”
Marvelous?
Who says "marvelous" unless they own a castle or collect human organs?
He shifted slightly, his gaze lifting toward the heavy clouds overhead.
“Would you accept a ride? You appear cold. I assumed you were heading toward the university, and since the rain is likely to return soon…” He trailed off, letting out a quiet breath of a laugh before lowering his eyes. “Forgive me. I am rambling.”
For all the leather, worn boots, and silver chains, there was something else beneath it. Something less polished, as though he was more comfortable with words on a page than conversations like this. The slight awkwardness dizzied me.
I let out a small huff, planting a hand on my hip. “So what, I’m supposed to hop on the back of a fancy bike with a stranger? I may sound country, but I ain’t stupid. I don’t hitchhike, buddy.”
His brows lifted slightly, surprise flickering in those green eyes, as though he hadn’t expected me to push back. The reaction was subtle enough that most people probably would’ve missed it.
Whatever.
I turned on my heel and started walking.
“I got class, weirdo.”
“Wait,” he called after me. “Do I seem insincere in my approach?”
I slowed, letting out a breath before turning halfway back toward him.
“You sound like you crawled outta some history book and hopped on a motorcycle. Respectfully, who talks like that before nine in the morning?” I muttered. “I’ll give you points for originality.”
I turned again, ready to leave, not realizing how close he had moved.
When I spun back, he was right there.
Close enough that his presence overwhelmed me.
“Jesus,” I gasped, stumbling back. My sneaker slipped on the slick pavement, and I went down, balance giving way beneath me in the damp cold.
Great. Death by hot emo biker. What a humiliating way to go.
And before the panic even had time to settle in, the first thought that came to me was that he had moved faster than anyone logically should have.