Page 9 of Lured By Shadows

Still, I stood there holding the schedule, the one thing that made it all real.

And just beyond the glass, the strangest man I had ever met was still waiting.

3

Culver leaned against the wall as though he belonged to it, untouched by the passing of time. When he noticed me, he straightened, and whatever guarded expression he had been wearing softened into something quieter. As though I was the only reason he had stayed. The thought slipped past my guard before I could dress it up as simple politeness.

I hadn’t expected him to wait. Most people didn’t linger unless they wanted something. With him, I couldn’t tell if that made me feel safer or more exposed. The fact that he hadn’t left pulled at something in me, stirring a quiet sense of gratitude tangled with growing curiosity.

“You waited for me?” I asked, keeping my voice light, even if my heart clearly hadn’t gotten the message.

“I did,” he said, a faint smile touching his lips. “Where else would I go if not to stay here?”

Every sentence out of his mouth sounded unnecessarily romantic.

“I mean… I figured you’d be late for class or something,” I muttered, lowering my gaze to the schedule in my hands.

He stepped closer and extended his bare hand. “May I see?”

I handed it over without thinking. “Says I’ve got Ms. Halls first. You know where that’s at?”

He studied the page carefully. For a brief moment, something tightened in his jaw. It disappeared quickly, but not before it made my stomach dip. He said nothing about it, though. He only folded the paper neatly before handing it back and nodding toward the corridor.

“You share this hour with me,” he said quietly. “Follow me, little lamb.”

If he pulled out a cane and started herding sheep, I honestly wouldn’t have been shocked.

I couldn’t shake the sense that this was more than coincidence, though. I didn’t believe in fate, not really, but I couldn’t stop the thought from slipping in anyway. Not fate exactly, just the unsettling feeling that something had been moving toward me long before I knew to look for it.

There was something about him that felt threatening, but not the sort you ran from. The sort you leaned toward. More akin to a scent that lingered on skin or a song that refused to leave your head. I didn’t trust it, and I didn’t trust him, but I wasn’t ready to walk away either.

The seminar room came into view, just as imposing as the rest of the campus. When Culver pushed the door open, it didn’t feel as though he was simply entering a classroom. I followed behind him, my pulse picking up as a quiet tension settled in. I suddenly understood why rich people developed superiority complexes. If high school looked like this, I’d probably become insufferable too.

The room was far too large for the number of students inside. It could have easily held sixty, but only five people were scattered across the seats. A group of four leaned together, already talking and comfortable in a way that made it obvious they had known each other for a while. Someone else sat alone toward the back, barely noticeable, as though they had chosen that space on purpose.

At the front, a young blonde woman looked up. “Mr. Scarbrough and—”

“Ah.” I stepped out from behind him, suddenly aware of how his broad frame made me seem smaller. “My name’s Ira.”

That was all it took for the whispers to start.

“Why did she walk in with him?”

“Wonder if they know each other?”

“Better keep our distance.”

Oh good. Love that for me.

First day, and apparently I’d accidentally attached myself to the campus cryptid.

I ignored them, even though their words lodged beneath my skin in tiny splinters.

As she turned back to her desk, my attention drifted toward Culver. He still hadn’t moved and was speaking with her in a low, controlled voice. I couldn’t make out the words, but I could feel the steady composure in his tone. Even the whispers around us seemed to quiet under his presence. He didn’t acknowledge them, didn’t need to. Whatever authority he carried didn’t require effort. It simply existed.

I scanned the room again and chose the furthest seat I could find, partially shielded by a pillar near the window. The others returned to their conversation, clearly more comfortable pretending I didn’t exist.

For a moment, I watched Culver, struck by how easily I understood him despite his accent. Everyone else spoke the same language, but theirs tangled in my ears, forcing me to sort through it just to keep up. With him, every word came through clean and effortless. It was strange, almost as though he didn’t belong here either.