There was something about the way Damian looked at her — like he was already imagining how she'd fall.
And Sharon was tired of pretending not to notice.
---
The day started with a lecture on the dangers of rebellion in literature, but Sharon didn't hear a word. Her eyes were on Damian — seated two rows across, tapping a pen against his lower lip, unreadable as ever.
He didn't look at her once. But she could feel it.
He was waiting.
At break, she walked out into the courtyard and took a path she rarely used — the narrow one by the old stone fountain.
She knew he'd follow.
And he did.
"I hope you're not lost," Damian said, voice smooth as silk, appearing beside her like he'd stepped out of a shadow. "Or are you luring me somewhere?"
Sharon didn't stop walking.
"You've been avoiding me," she replied, tone light. "Why? Are you afraid of me now?"
He chuckled, slow and deliberate. "I don't fear you, Sharon. I just haven't decided what to do with you yet."
"Then let me make it easier," she said, stopping abruptly. "Tell me what Sade knew."
His smile faded. "Don't say her name like that."
"Why not?" Sharon asked. "You flirted with her too?"
His jaw tensed — just enough.
She'd struck something.
But he recovered quickly, stepping closer. "She wasn't like you," he said quietly. "She was curious. You're dangerous."
"Because I don't want to join your little kingdom?" Sharon asked.
"No." His gaze dropped to her lips, lingered, then back to her eyes. "Because you know how to burn it."
---
The bell rang far in the distance, but neither moved.
Sharon looked at him with careful calculation. She didn't trust him — not even a little. But part of her wanted to know what lay behind that practiced charm, behind the smirks and veiled warnings. If he had answers, she'd draw them out — even if she had to pretend to want him.
She took a step forward.
Close enough that her perfume would cloud his breath.
Close enough that he'd feel the tension.
"You're not the top of the food chain," she whispered. "So stop acting like you run the Circle."
Damian leaned in, his mouth near her ear.
"If I don't," he murmured, "who do you think keeps you alive?"
Sharon didn't flinch. But his words chilled something inside her.
When she pulled back, her face was unreadable.
"Let me guess," she said softly. "You're my guardian devil."
He smiled again, but this time there was no warmth.
"Something like that."
---
Later that evening, Sharon found a folded piece of paper slipped under her pillow.
There were only four words:
> We saw that too.
No name. No handwriting.
Someone was watching. Again.
But this time, not just her. Them.
---
That night, she lay awake staring at the ceiling, her sister's words echoing again and again in her mind:
> The Circle only opens when someone bleeds.
Sharon didn't know if the bleeding had already begun.
But if it had to be anyone—
It wouldn't be her.
---
📌 End of Chapter Six