Page 42 of Marked By His Hunger
In the way the sky above the castle shimmered with ribbons of green and violet light—even during the day.
Ursula stayed with me as we walked—well, as she walked and I sort of lurched—toward the dormitories.
“Well,” she said, trying to keep things light, “at least the weather’s kind of similar to back home? If you lived in Washington State or something.”
I huffed a weak laugh.
“Florida’s got humidity and Jersey’s got attitude. This place has whatever the hell that ominous looking sky is. Reminds me of The Nothing from that kid’s movie.”
She smiled at that.
We stepped inside the dormitory—a long, vaulted hall lined with flickering sconces that weren’t candles so much as contained flames, hovering in midair. The stone beneath my feet pulsed faintly, as if aware of every step.
I tried not to think about that too hard.
“I’m just gonna—bathroom,” I mumbled, already veering off.
“Second door on the left,” Ursula called after me.
I barely made it before leaning over the sink, splashing cold water on my face and trying to will my stomach to settle.
When I finally looked up—I froze.
Not because of what I saw.
But because of what I didn’t.
For the first time in as long as I could remember there was no shadow standing behind me.
No flicker of something not-quite-there in the mirror.
No whisper curling at the edges of my hearing.
Just me.
Pale. Damp. Wide-eyed.
Breathing.
“Okay,” I whispered to my reflection. “Okay, that’s new.”
It should’ve felt like relief.
Instead, it felt like standing in a room that had always been crowded… and suddenly wasn’t.
Too quiet.
Too empty.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to brush my teeth, rinse, repeat the motions of normalcy even though nothing about this place was normal.
Because that was the thing I was still trying to wrap my head around.
Magic wasn’t hidden here.
Back on Earth, it was something people denied. Or mocked. Or whispered about behind closed doors.
And the ones who knew—really knew—they hid it.
