The chocolate-haired girl found her spine and sat straighter. “Take, for example, every major plague in history that was met first with fear. Fear of the unknown, of contamination, of each other. But fear never cured anything.” She paused, letting the silence build. “Progress came from science, hygiene, and shifts in how we treat each other. If we reverse that progress, if we strip away rights and enforce conformity through fear, are we actually civilized? Or just well-dressed animals?”
My chest tightened. Choice and control. Freedom and survival. The same questions that had circled my skull since waking up in this younger body with older nightmares. . . and Edward’s voice ringing in my ears.
“You belong to me, pet. Your words mean nothing here. Your body answers to me.”
I dug my nails into my palms, using the sharp bite to drag myself back to the present. After ten more minutes of discussion, Professor Wright finally raised his hands, conducting the chaos towards resolution. “Beautiful. Contradictory. Do you see it?” His eyes gleamed behind wire-rimmed glasses. “This is philosophy meeting psychology. One askswhat we are, the other asks why we act the way we do. Neither has clean answers because humanity refuses to be cleanly categorized.”
He paced the front of the room, hands gesturing like he was pulling thoughts from the air. “We study the mind, behavior, and the ways we interact and interpret our world. And in that study, we find ourselves staring into mirrors that show us things we’d rather not see.”
Kind of like me.
I was uncomfortable in my own skin, in my own grief, feeling my life operated with an expiration date for the unknown. I did not want to come face to face with myself, much less question why I had been resurrected in this life. The concept of ‘magic’ was something foreign and uncomfortable that society would struggle to make sense of. And honestly? I didn’t know if there was anything magical about my rebirth—or Daddy’s or Uncle Charlie’s, for that matter. Nor did I want to endanger my family by revealing our circumstances. Mankind was not kind, and the thought of becoming a test subject felt like the same chains Edward had placed on me.
Yet I was planning on entering a world I had begged myself to forget.
The discussion continued, voices overlapping, arguments building and collapsing. Professor Wright orchestrated it all with visible satisfaction, thriving in the controlled chaos.
By the time he called for attention, my brain felt scraped raw.
“Your self-reflection journals are due next Monday,” he announced. “Make them honest. I want brutal, ugly honesty, not the sanitized version you think I want to read.”
Students began packing up, the discussion dissolving into the shuffle of bags and footsteps.
“Oh, before you go.” Professor Wright’s voice cut through the noise. “Next month, we have a guest lecturer joining us. Professor James Thornwood will be discussing his research into occult studies and their philosophical implications.”
The occult? As if real darkness required pentagrams and candlelight rituals.
I left with the crowd, my decision solidifying with each step. Edward’s world thought it had broken me once. Tonight, I’d step into Oubliette ready to take back what had never been theirs to begin with.
Chapter 6
Rowan
The bus doors hissed shut behind me, and the noise hit first. Laughter spilling from courtyards, hearts buzzing with life, perfume thick enough to choke on. I’d survived fifty years in a wasteland where silence meant safety, where every sound could mean death screaming your name.
This? This was sensory warfare.
Charlie’s scribbled note crumpled in my fist. East Campus Dorm. Simple reconnaissance. Map Violet’s territory, catalogue her routines, and get out.
I had told myself the same thing before breaking into The Library. A knife through the ribs taught me how well that plan had worked.
One step onto the manicured lawn and the whispers started. Eyes tracked me like I was prey that had wandered into the wrong hunting ground. My height drew them first, then the rest: build, posture, the way I moved like something that belonged in the wilderness instead of classrooms.
I stand out like blood on snow.
A cluster of girls near the library doors giggled as I passed. Their hearts beat faster, perfume blooming sharper as I got close. I kept walking, jaw tight, cataloguing exits out of habit. The north path led to parking. South curved towards what looked like dormitories. East disappeared between academic buildings.
Violet was somewhere in this maze of youth and hormones and careless laughter. Find her patterns, map her territory, don’t engage. My objective was simple.
Until the presence of the vampyre hit me.
If I could have called Levi to gloat, I would have. But the cadence of the vampyre’s footsteps—which now trailed me—was a reminder of their predatory nature. Those steps lacked the awkward shuffle or hurried pace of students rushing between classes. Too steady. Too certain. I slowed instinctively, every sense sharpening.
“Why, hello there,” her voice cut through the noise, smooth and deliberate. The kind of voice that made men forget to watch their backs.
I kept moving, neither slowing nor quickening my pace.Predators chase prey that runs, I reminded myself. I needed to get away quickly, but calmly. I already had proof of the first item I had been concerned about—the presence of the supernatural.
Cold fingers brushed my arm as perfectly manicured nails ghosted over my skin. Again, her voice, deep and lush, rang in my ears. “I’mtalkingto you.”
