Once inside the labyrinth, the skies somehow seem darker, and the stars far fewer than they seemed earlier. But when I glance down, the grass that covers the ground is still dewy soft and so lushly green it's almost as if summer isn't about to end.
Magic is definitely at work here, and it makes me wonder rather foolishly if maybe, just maybe this means I can get away by doing something completely clichéd? What if I holler out something like, 'Hello? Are you there, god? It's me, Halyna?'
I've got nothing to lose anyway, so...
I take a deep breath, but as soon as my lips part, a creaking noise shatters the silence of the night, and I end up gaping at the sight of one of the labyrinth's ten-foot-walls starting to move on its own.
What in Greek heavens...
A dark entryway gradually reveals itself, and I'm not sure what comes over me, but I end up scrambling to dive down and hide behind the bushes while my heart starts hammering against my chest.
Rose thorns scratch my skin, but I'm too nervous and just a little petrified to care about a little sting. I've been told by Ms. Roo herself that Rosethorne's security is top-notch. Students can always expect to be safe from outside harm, and no one with ill intent is supposedly able to get past the school gates. That's all well and good, of course, but...can I still count on Rosethorne if the danger is already within its walls?
It's something I'd rather not have the need to find out, to be honest, but it also seems like I have no choice. The wind has started to howl, and I can't help but wonder if it's because the wind gods have the same fear lurking inside of them. There's still no sign of movement coming from the secret entryway, and it has me gnawing uncertainly on my lip as I consider making a run for it.
Secret doorways are rarely a good thing in the Post-3rd world, and my heart now feels like it's about to explode. I think I'm going to make a run for it. I'm just going to get up and run and—-ah!
It feels like I've been stabbed, and I find myself hurriedly covering my mouth as a cry threatens to slip out. I'm not even sure if I've caught it in time, but I find myself too hurt and bewildered to care as I watch the professor step out from the entryway...with Isabella following shortly behind him.
An inexplicable sensation squeezes my chest as I watch the professor offer his hand to help Isabella climb out, and the sensation sharpens when the other woman kneels down and bows her head to press her lips over his knuckles.
The walls slide close behind them silently while Isabella's lips linger on the professor's hand. The nicks and scratches I've gotten from getting pricked by rose thorns are nothing compared to the sensation that's now strangling my heart. The truth of what I'm feeling finally dawns on me, and although it's something I absolutely hate, I just don't see any point in lying to myself.
I'm jealous.
I've never been jealous before, but I know I can't be mistaken. It's the green-eyed monster inside of me, and it shows no signs of settling down even as I watch the professor finally pull his hand free.
"Go," I hear the professor murmur, and Isabella bows yet again before turning to walk away. She takes a look at him over her shoulder, but the professor has already turned his back on her, and his gaze is seemingly scanning his surroundings...
Until he ends up staring straight at me.
Shit.
A mocking smile slowly unfolds over the professor's thin, beautiful lips, and my jealousy quickly turns into apprehension.
"Come out, Ms. Mariposa." His voice is a little too gentle, and a chill settles down my spine. How does he know I'm here?
"I know you're hiding behind the bushes."
Shit.
"If you don't come out on your own," he drawls silkily, "I may have to do something you wouldn't like—-"
I jerk up to my feet. "I'm out." The professor doesn't strike me as the type to bluff, so I don't see any point in making things worse for myself.
Veiled dark eyes follow my movement as I reluctantly start walking, and the wind seems to pick up as the inches between us disappear. By the time I'm standing in front of him, the air has become bitingly cold...and more fragrant. But this time, the scent is different. This time, it's not the roses of the Erotes I detect scenting the air.
It's something else instead, and for a moment I can't help but look around, wondering...
"Carolina rose." The professor's voice is silky, and at first, it's just the sound of his voice that makes me shiver. Every time he talks, every time he looks at me, I always feel like I'm really nothing but a living toy to him.