CHAPTER 446: IN THE DARKNESS OF LIBRARY

Evaline:

I didn’t gasp. I didn’t pull back.

Because I already knew.

The scent - sharp, deep, and edged with the faintest trace of forest - wrapped around me before I even collided with the solid wall of muscle behind me. My back met the familiar firmness of his chest, and the breath that escaped me wasn’t fear. It was relief.

Draven.

Of course it was him.

I had felt his presence from the moment he had entered the library. His presence was like a quiet ripple under my skin - impossible to ignore once I had sensed it. He hadn’t approached me then, though. He had lingered in the dark, patient and silent, as if waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Typical him.

A smile tugged at my lips even before I turned to face him. "You do realize, sneaking up on me doesn’t really work anymore, right?" I whispered.

His reply came in a low murmur right beside my ear, warm enough to make my pulse stumble. "Maybe not. But it’s still worth trying."

Before I could answer, another familiar warmth appeared behind me - softer this time, playful. Strong arms circled my waist, and a chin rested lazily on my shoulder.

"Oscar," I breathed, half exasperated, half amused.

He chuckled against my neck, the sound sending tiny shivers down my spine. "You take all the fun out of it now, sweetheart. You sense us before we even get a chance to surprise you."

I turned my head slightly to meet his teasing grin in the darkness. "Maybe because you two always smell like trouble."

Draven stepped closer until I was pressed between both of them, his body solid at my front, Oscar’s warmth firm at my back. Draven tilted his head, his expression unreadable in the shadows, though I could see his smirk. "She’s not wrong," he muttered.

Oscar laughed softly. "Says the one who started this."

I rolled my eyes and reached up, knocking my knuckles against Oscar’s forehead - not too hard, but enough to make him blink. "You are getting influenced by his stupid plans," I said, folding my arms with mock severity.

That earned me a look of wounded pride from Draven. "Stupid plans?" He echoed, a hand landing over his heart in feigned offense. "It seems like you have forgotten how my plans have made some very... memorable moments for you, little star."

His voice dipped low at the end, enough to make my stomach tighten.

He leaned in, close enough that the space between us barely existed. My breath caught as his lips hovered just inches from mine. "Remember?" he murmured, his tone softer now, carrying something unspoken - a history only we shared.

And of course, I remembered.

I remembered every single one.

I tried to keep my expression neutral, but I could feel the heat crawling up my neck, betraying me. "I don’t know what you are talking about," I said, aiming for steady and failing miserably.

Oscar chuckled behind me, his breath brushing the side of my neck. "Oh, you know exactly what we are talking about."

I swatted lightly at the arm around my waist, even though I didn’t really want him to let go. "You two are impossible," I murmured.

Draven’s eyes gleamed faintly in the shadows. "And you love us for it."

He wasn’t wrong.

But I still tried to protest. "It’s almost midnight. I need to get back to the dorm before curfew."

That only earned me twin looks of disbelief - one from the front, one from behind.

Draven arched an eyebrow. "You do realize we all know about the secret tunnels now, right?"

Oscar’s hold tightened slightly as he added, "So what’s the real excuse, darling?"

I looked from one to the other and sighed, feeling cornered in more ways than one. "Fine. I’m tired, okay? Classes, training, exams... I just want to sleep."

But my voice faltered when Draven brushed a strand of hair from my face. The gesture was gentle, almost reverent... the kind of touch that carried a thousand unspoken things.

"Then sleep," he said quietly, "after this."

Before I could ask what this was supposed to mean, his lips brushed the edge of my jaw. Not quite a kiss... just a whisper of warmth, fleeting and soft.

And then another, lower, at the side of my neck.

Oscar followed suit on the other side, his lips tracing the curve of my shoulder where the fabric of my blouse had slipped. My knees nearly gave out from under me.

"I thought you two were just here to tease me," I managed, though the words came out more like a sigh than a complaint.

Oscar’s laugh was low, his lips still against my skin. "Maybe we are."

Draven murmured, "Or maybe we missed you too much."

The world around us seemed to fade into silence. The library’s quiet felt thicker now, filled with the rustle of breath, the soft brush of hands and the faint thud of my racing heart.

I didn’t even remember closing my eyes, but I must have, because the next thing I felt was Draven’s hand cupping the side of my face. His thumb brushed over my cheekbone, tilting my chin just slightly.

"Eva..." he whispered... not demanding, not coaxing, just there.

And when our lips met, it wasn’t urgent. It was slow - drawn-out, searching. A kiss that spoke of too many missed days and too little time. I melted against him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

Oscar’s hold stayed steady at my waist, grounding me, his touch firm but comforting. I could feel his heartbeat pressed against my back, matching mine beat for beat.

When Draven finally pulled back, barely an inch of distance between us, his breath mingled with mine. "You still taste like trouble," he murmured.

I laughed softly, the sound barely audible. "That’s rich, coming from you."

Oscar’s chuckle rumbled against me. "We should probably let her go before she’s caught breaking curfew."

"Five more minutes," Draven muttered, earning a playful smack on the arm from me.

"You said that last time," I reminded him, but even as I said it, my voice softened.

He smiled - that rare, fleeting smile that made the rest of the world disappear. "Then maybe this time I mean it."

And so, for five stolen minutes more, I let them keep me there - between warmth and darkness, between two heartbeats that had somehow become my own rhythm.

When they finally let go, I was breathless but lighter, a quiet ache replaced by something softer, steadier.

As I descended the stairs, the clock struck five minutes before midnight.

I glanced back once... at the shadowed aisle where they still stood, watching. Draven’s hand lifted in a silent wave, Oscar’s grin flickering in the faint light.

I smiled back, whispering to the empty air, "Goodnight."