ADELINE

Laurel, Donovan, and I are walking up to tour the classrooms when Laurel pulls me aside.

"I have to tell you something about Professor Hottie." She glances over her shoulder, ensuring that no one hears her.

I notice Professor O Broin glancing over some paperwork at his desk. He’s busy preparing for classes to start. Summer break is almost over.

"What is it?" I raise my brows as I look around the empty classroom.

Professor O Broin watches us from the corner of his eyes. He flashes me a brilliant smile, and I blush. What could Laurel possibly have to say about him?

Getting up from his desk, he wanders through the classroom as if trying to hear our conversation.

He draws closer, and Laurel catches her breath.

"Good morning, everyone. Laurel, can I speak with you a moment in private?" His voice is like silk, so smooth and alluring.

"Yes, sir." Laurel gulps, flashing me a warning glance.

He pulls her aside. They whisper words I cannot hear, and he looks deep into her eyes. Laurel's body language is stiff at first, but then, she softens. She almost goes limp.

"Yes, sir, thank you." Laurel walks back to me with a vacant glaze in her eyes.

"What happened? What was that about?" I ask, looking her over.

She blinks repeatedly.

"Nothing. Everything is fine." She frowns as if she doesn't quite believe herself.

"Laurel, are you all right?" I grab her by the shoulders, worried for my friend.

Laurel peers at me and shrugs. "It was nothing. Everything is fine." She sounds almost hypnotized.

"It doesn't look like nothing," I insist.

"I saw the professor yelling out the window last night, and I thought it was strange, but he told me some student pulled a prank on him, and not to be concerned. I guess it’s common for this time of year." Laurel touches her forehead as if she’s forgotten something.

"A prank?" I crinkle my brows.

"Yes, there’s a hazing process at the beginning of every school year. I guess sometimes students get carried away. It was nothing." Laurel giggles and shakes her head.

She seems different somehow. As if all her apprehension and concern were suddenly washed away.

But she’s right. I've read about these things. Hazing is a tradition in most schools. I can imagine even the professors have to deal with it sometimes. I look at Cian and frown. I feel bad that someone bothered him. It's rude and unnecessary.

I find my seat, ready to start orientation. I flash Laurel a concerned look. "Well, all right, as long as you're okay."

"Everything is great."

"You two doing all right?" Donovan leans forward in his seat, confusion crinkling his brows.

"It's all good here, my friend." Laurel flashes a brilliant smile and flops down in her seat.

"There's a meeting this evening once classes are over," Donovan whispers.

"A meeting?" I glance over my shoulder, feeling uneasy for some reason

"Yes, for the freshmen. It's tradition." He flashes a shiny white smile.

"Okay. Where?" I gulp, searching the room; for what, I’m not sure.

"Courtyard. Midnight." Donovan nods, and I smile.

"I'll be there."

Unease follows me through the rest of my day.

The so-called meeting is much more of a hazing. Older students gather around, calling us all "fresh meat." They taunt and call us names, telling us that we must prove ourselves.

We’re challenged to go deep into the woods at night and knock on cottage doors. It's juvenile, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let the rest of the students think I’m a coward.

"It's your turn, Adeline." A skinny little brunette sneers at me. "Let's see what you've got."

"This is stupid." I shake my head. The sky grows dark around us.

"This is a rite of passage. We've all done it. Prove yourself. Prove you have the guts to do what it takes to make it out here," she taunts.

"By knocking on doors?" I laugh.

"You don't know what's out there. You don't know the history of this castle, the woods, this place." The girl stomps her foot.

"I'm not scared of ghosts and don't believe in fairytales. Hold my bag, Laurel. I'll be back." I hand Laurel my knapsack and head off into the woods.

I'm too old for this. It's so childish.

I stalk through the hedges. Twigs snap under my feet as I creep through the woods and stumble upon a cottage. I shake my phone, turn on my flashlight, and discover there are several cottages in a row.

Perfect. I don't have to search for houses. I can just knock and get this silly game over with.

An owl hoots in the distance, and the forest at night seems far more imposing than it did at first. Darkness surrounds me, and the trees seem dangerous, somehow, as if I've stumbled into another world entirely.

The wind whisks through my hair and makes the tree boughs creak. I glance up at them. They’re like massive giants hovering over me.

I swallow hard and creep toward the first cottage. Suddenly, I don't find this so childish. Terror grips me as I approach the front porch.

What am I doing?

We are out in the country, and I am trespassing. I know people value their privacy. This is how people get shot. This is how people get killed. Am I really going to entertain these silly games when I could be genuinely hurt?

My heart pumps in my chest as I draw near the door. Just do it and get it over with. Prove yourself to these older students. Don't be a coward.

My body trembles as my knuckles tap the door.

I wait.

Silence.

No one answers.

Sighing deeply in relief, I let my shoulders relax. I hadn't known how tense I was until no one answered the door.

I walk down the road to the next cottage. As I'm trudging through the darkness, a big, bulky man comes into view. He stalks out of the shadows like some kind of phantom.

I scream.

I don't know why. Perhaps it's because he startled me, or because he's so large, but I scream and run.

The man looks at me, confusion plastered across his face.

I know him.

I know that face. Those eyes. That red hair. I've seen him before.

Fear consumes me, and I dash back into the trees, back toward the other students, back to my friends. I've had enough fun and games for one night.

"Oh, baby girl got scared," the brunette girl teases, and everyone laughs.

"No, there was a man. A large man with red hair. I saw him. He came out of the trees."

Everyone falls silent.

"A man in the woods. You’re certain?" Laurel asks, handing me my bag.

"Yes, I saw him. He was very tall and muscular. He was like a giant." I suck in a deep breath, looking around at the other students.

"There's an old story about a man in the woods. The Watcher, they call him. He protects the people, leaving them offerings." Donovan raises a brow as he looks at me.

"It's true; we've all heard the stories. Some say he is a savior. Some say he is a monster," the brunette girl whispers.

"I've heard the stories, too." Another voice adds, "The Watcher is real."

"Well, whoever he is. I'm done for the night. I'm going to bed." I sling my bag over my shoulder and walk back to the castle.

It's not until I'm in my nightgown, settled into bed, that I remember where I've seen that man before. His bright red hair, his tall frame. He is the man from my dreams.

I dreamt of a raven-haired man and a flame-haired man. The dream was intense. I felt so fully drawn to both of them. I’ve just never seen him before in real life.

The raven-haired man is my professor, but now, the stranger in the woods is the red-haired giant of my dreams?

How did I know both of them before I saw them? Did I dream them into life?

I grab a book about the castle's history from my bedside table. The history of the two princes who used to run the land after their father was slain.

I flip through the pages and come across a sketch titled, "Ronan O Broin."

It's him. The man from the woods. The man from my dreams. I suck in a breath as I trace my fingers across the page. How can this be?

That man is the spitting image of this lost prince. What is going on?

I can't explain it. I can barely comprehend it. Nothing makes sense any more.