I pressed my lips together, not expecting that answer and hoping I hadn’t pissed him off. He noticed my silence and said, “I am Blake, by the way.”
I smiled politely, refusing to say anything that might yield that kind of reaction.
“Anna,” I said.
“Anna,” he repeated slowly, his eyes lingering on my face.
“What?” I asked with a small laugh. “Don’t get a lot of Anna’s around here?”
He shot me a side glance, a near imperceptible smirk tugging at his lips.
“It is just a beautiful name,” he murmured, looking away.
Heat rushed into my cheeks, and I followed him up twisting and broad staircases. I kept my mouth shut, instead taking in the breathtaking castle. There were many students in the halls, some lingering and talking in small groups, others alone and taking in the grandeur that was Nightfall.
We entered a stunning torch-lit corridor where the crowd thinned. I became more aware of Blake beside me, as if he were humming like an energy source I wanted to tap into. Wondering what the hell was wrong with me, I kept my distance. The sounds of our footfalls echoed loudly, and the lack of conversation was making whatever strange aura surrounding this man even more magnetic.
“I noticed a raven on the cloaks of the two guys who helped Commander Everson. Yours looks different. More intricate,” I said.
He cast a sideways glance.
“That is pretty observant of you for your first day,” he drawled.
I wondered why he wouldn’t answer me and waited, entering a silent protest at his avoidance. He noticed.
“It is different because I am different,” he said with a tone of finality.
“Different how?” I asked, even as I felt the charged air between us.
Was this me and ridiculous hormones or—a slight smirk crept across his lips and he threw me a mischievous look.
“Beware the raven should it come tapping at your chamber door,” he said, still smirking.
I scoffed, and his smirk softened.
I couldn’t figure out if he was immature or hiding something by not answering me. Then again, it was hard to believe he was immature when he was quoting Edgar Allan Poe.
“Where are you from?” he asked.
I wanted to protest the subject change but decided to let it go—for now.
“I grew up in the mountains,” I said, returning his vagueness. “How about you?”
“The mountains, eh? Interesting. I am from a place you have probably never heard of,” he said, dismissively.
“Try me.”
“Raven Falls,” he said in a breathy voice, as if the words were a burden to have to say.
I paused, amused at the name and the obvious correlation to the symbol of death on his jacket. “I take it you are not a big fan?”
He watched me for a moment, to the point I looked away. “Okay. You got me. I’ve never heard of it. Where is that?”
“Not too far from here,” he said. “It is also in an ancient mountain range, though perhaps not as old as the Appalachians. I have read that it is beautiful there. I would love to see it someday.”
I paused, something odd sitting in the back of my mind, but before I could ask further questions, he stopped. I glanced at two large doors with gold numbers above them that read 214.
“Roslyn should be in there,” he said. “She will get you to your dorm.”
