Iris's POV

The painfully long opening ceremony finally came to an end.

The thousands of candles floating beneath the Great Hall's domed ceiling gradually dimmed.

The first-years scattered like an exploding beehive, chattering noisily as they followed their prefects toward the dormitories.

I moved with the crowd, but my gaze couldn't help searching through the sea of faces.

Cassian Hastings.

From the moment he'd appeared in the courtyard, I'd sensed something magnetic about him.

Everyone else feared him—avoided him like he carried the plague—but I felt that beneath his glacial indifference, something hidden called to me. Something I wanted to understand.

I spotted him breaking away from the group, heading alone toward a secluded corridor at the side of the hall.

Almost without thinking, I slowed my pace. While the prefect was busy counting heads, I quietly slipped out of the first-year line and followed.

The corridor was dim, the magical torches on the walls casting an eerie blue glow.

I didn't dare get too close. I could only track that silver head from a distance.

After two turns, I watched him climb a massive spiral staircase made of stone.

I quickened my pace to follow, but the instant my foot touched the first step, the stone beneath me let out a deep, rumbling groan.

The staircase came alive.

It shuddered violently, then detached completely from its platform, swinging through the air to face a different direction.

I gasped and grabbed the railing in a death grip, wind roaring in my ears.

When the shaking finally stopped, the staircase slammed into place against another pitch-black corridor.

Heart still racing, I straightened up. When I looked around, Cassian had vanished.

All that remained was a deep, cold passageway stretching before me.

I tried to go back, but the staircase had already rotated away, leaving nothing behind but a bottomless drop.

No choice. I had to keep going forward.

The air smelled stale, tinged with the faint scent of rust.

The silence was suffocating. Only my footsteps echoed through the emptiness.

At the end of the corridor stood a massive door made of black wood.

No handle. No keyhole. Just a circle of intricate dark-red runes carved into its surface.

The runes looked like they'd been drawn in dried blood, radiating an unsettling aura.

Standing before that door, my feet stopped moving on their own.

My heart began pounding violently again—just like it had in the courtyard earlier.

But this time it wasn't fear. It was something else. A strange, irresistible longing.

Something behind that door was calling me.

The voice was soft, like a feather brushing against my eardrum, yet it seemed to echo directly inside my skull.

My mind grew sluggish. My vision tunneled until all I could see were those dark-red runes.

My body moved without permission. I took a slow step forward, raising my right hand, my fingertips reaching toward the symbols.

Just a little closer. Just one touch...

The instant my finger came within an inch of the runes, a hand shot out from the shadows and clamped around my wrist like an iron vice.

The hand was scorching hot—like a burning brand—and the searing pain jolted me back to my senses.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

A low, icy voice exploded above my head.

I flinched violently, snapping out of that strange trance, cold sweat breaking out across my skin.

I looked up and found myself staring into eyes burning with dark-gold flames.

Cassian stood beside me. I hadn't even heard him approach.

He was a full head taller than me, looking down with furrowed brows. His gaze held undisguised warning and a trace of irritation.

"I... I got lost," I stammered, instinctively trying to pull my hand back.

He released me, his sharp gaze sweeping over my face as if checking whether whatever was behind that door had corrupted me completely.

His eyes were cold—detached in a way that felt like he could see straight through me.

"This isn't a place for first-years," he said flatly.

"I followed you up the stairs, then they suddenly moved and brought me here." I rubbed my burning wrist, speaking quietly.

Cassian didn't respond. He turned and raised one long-fingered hand, pointing toward a narrow passage on the right side of the corridor—so well-hidden it nearly blended into the wall.

"Go down there. At the end, turn left. That'll take you to the first-year dormitories." He dropped the words like stones. "Don't wander around again. This castle has more things that can kill you than you realize."

Without another glance, he shoved both hands into the pockets of his robes, turned, and walked toward the other end of the corridor, quickly disappearing into the darkness.

I stood there taking deep breaths, forcing down the strange flutter in my chest, then hurried into the passage he'd indicated.

Ten minutes later, I made it back to the brightly lit first-year dormitory area.

When I pushed open the door to my room, my roommate turned out to be Wendy.

She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, trying to shove a rogue magical toad into a cage. The moment she saw me, she dropped the toad and jumped down.

"Iris! Where did you go?" Wendy's eyes went wide. "The prefect couldn't find you during roll call. I thought the castle ghosts had kidnapped you!"

"I got lost." I sank onto my bed, exhaling heavily. I felt completely drained.

I gave her the short version of what happened, leaving out the weird feeling of being summoned. I just said the magical staircase had taken me somewhere I didn't mean to go, and I'd ended up at a black wooden door carved with dark-red runes.

"Dark-red runes? A black door?" Wendy's face went visibly pale, her voice shooting up an octave. "You went to the forbidden chamber under the West Tower?!"

"Forbidden chamber?" I blinked.

"Oh my God, you're insane! Do you have any idea what that place is?" Wendy clutched her chest dramatically and plopped down beside me. "There's a dark creature sealed inside—left over from the magical wars hundreds of years ago. The runes on that door are a lethal curse! They say if you touch them, your soul gets ripped out instantly. Not even bones left behind. Last year, some upperclassmen didn't believe it and just leaned in for a closer look. He's still in a coma in the ICU at St. Fenix's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries!"

A cold sweat prickled across my back.

If Cassian hadn't grabbed me in time, I might already be a soulless husk right now.

I looked down at my right wrist. I could still feel the burning heat of his palm.

"But how did you get out? Nobody goes near that place." Wendy asked curiously.

"Cassian. He happened to be nearby. He stopped me and showed me the way back," I said honestly.

Wendy sucked in a sharp breath and stared at me like I'd sprouted horns. "Cassian Hastings? He didn't hurt you, did he? Everyone says he's got a terrible temper—that he's a dangerous psycho. Anyone who gets near him ends up cursed."

"He didn't hurt me," I said quietly, the image of those dark-gold eyes surfacing in my mind.

He was cold, sure. But he wasn't the bloodthirsty monster everyone made him out to be.

In fact, he'd saved my life. He'd even been kind enough to give me directions.

Maybe people's fear of him was just baseless prejudice.

I lay in bed that night, tossing and turning. Cassian's face wouldn't leave my mind.

I made a decision. I wasn't going to avoid him as everyone else did.

---

The next morning brought the first class for first-years: Introduction to Charms.

The lecture hall was packed, sunlight streaming through the tall stained-glass windows.

When I walked in with my textbook, the room was already buzzing with noise. Wendy waved frantically from the third row, where she'd saved me a seat.

But my eyes immediately found the figure sitting in the back corner.

Cassian.

He still wore that black robe with dark-silver embroidery, his silver hair gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

Head down, he was flipping through a thick parchment tome, completely indifferent to the chaos around him.

A wide circle of empty seats surrounded him.

No one dared sit near him. Even the people in the row ahead had scrunched forward, as if there were an invisible barrier around him—cross it and you'd die on the spot.

I stood in the aisle and took a deep breath.

Wendy was still calling my name. I gave her an apologetic shake of my head, then turned and—under the shocked, bewildered, even horrified stares of the entire class—walked straight toward the back row.

The whispers stopped instantly.

The entire room fell silent. Dozens of eyes drilled into my back.

I stopped beside the empty seat next to Cassian.

He didn't look up. Just kept staring at his book, as if I didn't exist.

I pulled out the chair and calmly sat down.

That did it. I heard several sharp intakes of breath from the front of the room. Someone muttered that I'd lost my mind.

Cassian's fingers, which had been turning a page, finally paused.

Slowly, he turned his head. Those dark-gold eyes fixed on my face with a mixture of surprise and indifference.

His gaze was intense, almost oppressive. But I didn't back down.

I met his eyes, straightened my spine, and held out my right hand.

"Hi. I'm Iris Vance." I looked directly at him, my voice sincere and steady. "Thanks for last night. If you don't mind... I'd like to be friends."