Chapter 15 Thou Shalt Not Let Shadows Bite #2
So this morning, I gather every last shred of courage I have and walk toward him.
He’s in the main courtyard near the fountain, surrounded by his Pride posse. Camille and Daphne are draped on either side of him like ornaments. Two guys I don’t know are laughing at something. They look perfect, as usual. Wealthy and dangerous and untouchable.
I hate this.
But I’m not here for them.
I step up, ignoring the acrobatics happening in my stomach. “Atticus?”
His eyes meet mine for half a heartbeat.
Then he turns away. Just… rotates his perfect head back to his friends like I’m a decorative plant.
I try again. “Hey. Arwen. Yesterday’s disaster? Hi.”
Camille wrinkles her face, like she’s looking at a smudge on glass. “Do you know her?” she asks Atticus.
Daphne covers her mouth like she’s shocked. “Atticus, are you helping charity cases now? How generous.”
Laughter explodes around me. One guy elbows another, snickering and whispering into his ear. Daphne wraps her arms around Atticus’s waist, making my bond want to explode out of my chest.
At least he has the decency to look a little uncomfortable.
I try to ignore it. “I need to talk to you, Atticus. Could—”
Camille cuts in. “Aww… Isn’t that adorable?”
“She’s practically a ghost,” Daphne adds. “No sin. No status. What did you think was going to happen, sweetie? You’d stomp over and try to flirt your way into some sort of standing? I would save that for the Lusters, if they’ll even have you. This paltry attempt isn’t going so well.”
Everyone around me laughs again.
My face feels like it’s on fire. I clench my fists, willing myself to act normal. Brave. Cool. I’m a Wrath, not some nervous mess flailing in the courtyard. Someone get me a medal… or a punching bag.
I look to Atticus. And he says nothing. Just like the encounter with Daphne last time.
He just stares straight ahead, cold and silent. Like I don’t exist.
Like I never existed.
I swallow hard. “Thanks for the update on my social status. Truly. I’ll pencil ‘irrelevant’ into my schedule right under ‘don’t care.’” This is bullshit.
I turn away—humiliated, angry, trying to keep it together—when a voice cuts through the noise:
“And what’s all the fun happening over here?”
Everyone turns. My heart stutters.
A gorgeous man leans against a nearby column, arms crossed, moss green eyes gleaming, like he has a secret. His smirk is lazy, his stance relaxed, but there’s a sharpness under the charm.
He walks toward us with the grace of someone who owns everything he touches.
“Daphne, Camille,” he says smoothly, “You're judging someone's social status? I always thought Pride girls were obsessed with perfection—guess that explains why you’re both so bitter. All that effort, and still barely a seven.” He sighs, looking them up and down like he’s disappointed.
“Excuse me? Ryker, how could you say that?” Camille snaps, eyes narrowing.
Ryker… This is Ryker Blaise. Atticus’s rival.
“Oh, I know that tone,” Ryker says with a grin. “Same one you used when I turned you down last week.”
Daphne chokes on a gasp. Camille turns red, sputtering.
Looking back at Atticus, he looks like his eyes could spit fire. He keeps his stare on Ryker. “What do you want, Blaise?”
Ryker looks at me, his gaze softer than I expected. “You alright, sweetheart?”
I hesitate… then nod, confused at what’s happening here. Why is Ryker Blaise, the most popular guy at school, the richest too and son of the Greed faction Councilor, sticking up for me right now?
The universe is definitely fucking with me again.
And how is this fair? How do they get to be Councilor sons and this good looking?
He offers his hand like a prince in a story.
I take it because why the fuck not. I’m surrounded by enemies here, so I can use all the help I can get.
“She’s fine,” Atticus mutters behind me and steps closer.
Ryker raises an eyebrow and steps toward Atticus, lowering his voice. “You sure? Because I saw you yesterday, you know. You had your arms around her like she was your entire world. Funny how fast that changed.”
Atticus’s jaw tightens. “You know nothing, Blaise. And you should be careful about starting rumors you can’t back up.”
I try to speak. Nothing.
Great. Really impressing everyone with my usual eloquence.
Ryker’s lips twitch as he looks at me. “Don’t worry. He’s not your style, anyway. He’s stone and silence. I’m gold and fire.”
Then, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, he slips his arm around my shoulders and leads me away from the wreckage of my attempted interaction.
And even though my chest still aches, even though I’m still burning with shame and rage—
My heart skips.
Because Ryker Blaise just saved me in a way.
And I don’t know why… but that might be even more dangerous than being ignored.
Once the Pride squad slinks away, roasted and far less smug, I’m left standing there, alone, with SinVail’s golden boy of Greed, cocky smirk and all. He turns to me, his green eyes glinting with something between amusement and curiosity.
“You good?” he asks, and his voice is surprisingly gentle for someone whose entire aura screams trouble.
I nod, trying to catch my breath. “Yeah. Thanks. That was… intense.”
He shrugs like defending me was no big deal. “Please. Watching those Pride brats squirm? Best part of my morning.”
A half-smile tugs at my lips before I catch myself. I cross my arms and raise a brow. “You always go around saving girls in distress, or am I just lucky?”
His grin widens. “You? Lucky. Me? Heroic. It’s a full-circle moment.” He pauses. “Seriously, though. What were you doing walking up to that crowd? Looking to make some new enemies?”
“Just… needed to ask a question. Nothing important.” I stiffen like a damn board.
It’s a lie, but it rolls off my tongue smooth and easy. I don’t owe Ryker the truth—especially not about my bond with Atticus.
He studies me, eyes narrowing, with that little twitch that makes me want to roll my eyes.
He lets it slide. “I don’t believe you, but fair enough. Been wondering where you’ve been hiding, anyway.”
“Hiding?” I blink, pitch-perfect poker face failing by the microsecond.
He smirks. “You’ve got that whole mysterious, sinless, no-faction, zero-filter aura. People notice.”
I swallow, suddenly aware of how messy my hair looks, how crooked my jacket is.
“I’ve been busy,” I say a little too fast. “You know… sin power rotation. Combat training with my roommate on weekends. Big, important stuff… like getting my ass handed to me in sparring practice with my roommate Holly.”
“Oof,” he winces. “Yeah, I’ve heard Holly doesn’t hold back from other freshmen. But I gotta say, I’m impressed.”
I look at him, skeptical. “Impressed by what? That I haven’t burst into tears yet during this conversation or flung myself out of a window during training on accident?”
“Nah,” he says, laughing. “That you’re still here. Most people wouldn’t last two weeks at SinVail without a power, let alone throw themselves into combat training for fun.”
I shrug. “Being sinless kind of sucks. Everyone either ignores you, pities you, or assumes you’re about to explode into some terrifying monster any second.”
“Spicy take,” he says, lips twitching. “But I can see how most sheep here would act that way.”
“And don’t get me started on the whispers. I walk into a room, and I’m the headline on the morning gossip scroll—Tragic Sinless Girl Probably Doomed to Die Alone in the Wastes.”
Ryker lets out a genuine laugh, and for a second, the cocky mask drops. “You should brand that. Sell t-shirts.”
“Right,” I snort. “Because being the academy charity case is so marketable.”
He glances sideways at me as we walk, his voice softer now. “For what it’s worth… I don’t think you’re tragic. Just underestimated.”
And that—that—catches me off guard. Ryker Blaise, king of parties and heir to everything shiny, just threw me a genuine compliment. I open my mouth to reply but come up empty.
“Don’t look so shocked. I have layers. Like an expensive cake.” He smirks and winks.
“Oh, yeah?” I raise an eyebrow. “And what’s under all that frosting?”
His grin goes full charm offensive. “Wouldn’t you like to find out?”
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling. Damn him.
We’re just walking now—toward nowhere in particular—and I’m trying not to read too much into how easy this feels. Ryker Blaise isn’t what I expected. He’s flirty, sure, but there’s a charm to him that doesn’t feel entirely fake.
Then he hits me with it.
“So,” he says, voice smooth as silk, “you wanna hang out sometime? Just the two of us?”
I stop walking. Just like that. My brain stutters.
“Wait, seriously?” I ask, half-laughing. “You’re asking me out?”
He shrugs, looking way too casual about it. “Why not?”
I blink at him. “Okay… not to be rude, but you’re Ryker Blaise.
You could literally snap your fingers and have a line of people at this academy throwing themselves at your feet.
So, forgive me if I’m a little skeptical that you’re suddenly interested in the sinless girl who just got roasted in front of the entire courtyard. ”
He grins. “Yeah, that’s exactly why I’m interested.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Because I’m a social pariah?”
“No,” he chuckles. “Because you didn’t back down. You stood there, chin up, taking all that crap and didn’t flinch. You didn’t cry, yell, fight… didn’t crumble. That’s rare around here.”
I narrow my eyes. “Still sounds like there’s a catch.”
He hesitates for a second, then tilts his head. “Look, I’ll be honest. I am fascinated with you. You’re a mystery. And yeah, it’s probably weird because we haven’t crossed paths before now—but maybe that changes. Maybe I can even help you.”
“Oh?” I cross my arms. “Help how?”
“You already know my father is on the Council. Head of the Greed faction. He has pull—a lot of it. Say the word, and I can make sure no one messes with you again. Protection like that doesn’t come easy around here.”
Okay, now it makes sense. I feel my walls go up fast and hard.
“Right,” I drawl. “And what’s the cost?”
He smiles, but there’s something sharper behind it. “You’re smart. I like that.”
“You know, I wasn’t born yesterday. I know how Greed works. You don’t hand out favors without collecting interest.”
He lifts both hands in surrender. “Guilty as charged.”
“And no offense, but my life’s already a hot mess.”
He doesn’t need to know the details, but I’ve already got sin power rotations, four potential bond disasters to figure out, and I’m tutoring Maddox twice a week.
“I don’t have time for… whatever this is. So, thanks, but I’m gonna have to pass.”
He doesn’t look offended. In fact, the grin he gives me now is downright smug. “Respect.. But I’ll win you over, eventually. Just a matter of time.”
I snort. “You don’t know how to take no for an answer, do you?”
“I heard the ‘maybe’ buried in it,” he says, winking. “Just think about it.”
And with that, he turns and strolls off like he didn’t just flip my entire morning upside down. I watch him go, shaking my head, half amused, half on edge.
What the hell was that?