Page 208 of Marked By His Hunger

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Too beautiful.

Mahogany molding carved with intricate runic patterns that pulsed faintly beneath the surface.

Polished marble floors that reflected light like still water.

Towering shelves filled with ancient tomes, scrolls locked behind glass, metal cases etched with protective sigils.

It didn’t feel like a classroom.

It felt like a vault.

A place where knowledge wasn’t just stored?—

It was guarded.

Watched.

Alive.

We were starting regression spells today.

Students whispered excitedly.

Volunteers.

Demonstrations.

Controlled glimpses into past lives.

Safe.

Structured.

Academic.

I didn’t think for a second I’d be chosen.

Of course I didn’t.

That would have been too easy.

“Serena Notte.”

My stomach dropped.

I stood slowly, heart pounding.

Why me?

Professor Bannerman gestured to the chair.

“Sit. Get comfortable.”

Comfortable.

Right.

Sure.

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