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Harvest's bed. That sounded downright weird. It was a place I swore to myself I would never return to.

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I HAD FROZEN in place, feeling more out of it than I ever had before. My fingers were stiff around my pen as it hovered over the blank page I had opened it to, feeling them slightly shake when I felt his shadowy presence move from bare inches behind me until his figure came into view.

He dropped in a seat directly opposite me. My fingers shook again, resulting in the quick action of laying my pen on my notebook, then placing my hands on my lap hidden from view.

He stared at me for a few moments, and this time I somehow found the courage to bravely hold eye contact. It was like my body was getting used to that chilly feeling traveling down my spine every time our eyes locked.

He moved over the desk, sliding my notebook back to him before I could protest.

My eyes widened in hidden panic as he took it in his hands, reading everything that I had just written down.

My nails scratched against my palm in anticipation and certain anxiety about me as I watched his eyes trace over my words, his jaw ticking momentarily, as he flipped over through the pages, seeming to read each poem he came across which made me feel if anything, violated.

He was reading what had once been my private thoughts, and he didn't seem to care about what he was doing. Poetry was something that was personal to me and made me feel at ease.

I didn't like it when people read through my poetry, not even my mom.

See, whilst other girls had diaries, all I needed was poetry. Something about words hiding hidden meanings drew me into a state of calm and peace.

I felt hollow inside me when he glanced up at me, holding eye contact for a few more seconds before his eyes dropped back to my book, adjusting in his seat with a soft sigh.

I watched him for a few more seconds trying to ease myself before I suddenly felt a lot more self-conscious, feeling eyes on me from somewhere.

Looking around, I noticed the few other students around us were stealing glances our way.

This was bad.

This was very bad.

What if they told a friend, and that friend told a friend and somehow it eventually reached Daya?

I wasn't doing anything wrong, but would she see that?

"If you keep looking at them like your guilty and they'll keep thinking something's going on between us," Harvest warned.

My eyes snapped to him, landing on the side of his face still flipping through all my private thoughts, seeming engrossed in them.

After staring at him in frustration for a few more seconds and realizing he wasn't planning on talking to me any time soon, my eyes instinctively lingered back to the students that were now whispering over the table amongst themselves.

I started to feel more anxious, my heartbeat increasing softly with every second.

"For Pete's sake, I can't think with your heart pounding like a drum," Harvest snapped, throwing my notebook in front of me with a hard splat that brought my attention back to it, glancing at the book and then at him.

He rolled his eyes, got up from his seat, adjusting his signature black coat before walking away. I watched him disappear into one of the aisles, his coat trailing after him.

My eyebrows creased, staring momentarily in the direction he had left. That was strange.

Did he expect me to follow him? I glanced once more time in the direction he had left, then back at my desk in confusion.

I looked at the other students in the room and now no one was paying attention to me after he had disappeared. It seemed like I was only a person of interest when 'Harvest Adams' was sitting across from me.

Well, I say good riddance.

I sighed, taking hold of my pen, trying to start a new poem when I heard a familiar voice right above my ear.

"Follow me," it whispered, its tone as clear as if he was standing right beside me.

I spun my head to the side expecting to see the boy but I was met with nothingness, only the view of the book aisles behind me.

I had to have been hallucinating or losing my mind or something. I shook my head out of whatever kind of illusion this was, trying to get back to what I was doing when the voice repeated itself, this time not in the slightest bit of a whisper, speaking firmly like the order it was.

"Follow Me."

I took a slow shaky breath out, realizing this wasn't a figment of my imagination. His voice was in my head like it had been at the Arena.

I closed my notebook, glancing momentarily both ways to make sure no one was looking at me suspiciously before standing up and packing my stuff. I got to my feet slinging my bag over my shoulder, eyes tracing over the direction I had seen him disappear to, taking in a deep breath with one last look around before walking in that direction.

I didn't like the thought of meeting him in between aisles. It seemed to be excluded from other people, but then again, the last thing I wanted was to do be seen with him.

I was soon surrounded by rows of books as I walked deeper into the library, glancing at each Alphabetical tag that was stuck against the wooden shelves indicating the directions. I tried to save them in my mind so I wouldn't get lost when coming back.

I had a feeling Harvest would not be generous enough to show me the directions back to familiar grounds-

"Left," the voice said as I neared a crossing.

I stopped in the middle of what seemed like an intersection in the library glancing to the left, noting that, that way seemed much farther from the entrance and relatively darker as I could only see the faint light coming from the small light bulbs strategically placed above every other shelf.

Sighing, I gathered the courage I had left, taking sure steps in the direction, eyes on high alert for any sign of the boy. After walking for what felt like three minutes, I stopped in the middle of a row, glancing back at where I had come from, before looking forward.

The voice hadn't communicated with me since the intersection, and everything in this section of the library made me feel quite unsafe. Ranging from how dark this book aisle was to how close the shelves were made me feel a tiny bit claustrophobic.

"Have you thought about it?" a voice asked.

It sounded like the voice that had led me here and yet this one sounded more like he WAS here. I looked around trying to spot him, suddenly flinching when the shuffling of books was heard.

I cautiously peered through the spaces between the shelves where I heard the noise come from, watching as someone pulled out a book from it, giving me a clear view of Harvest in the other row, flipping through the pages of the book. He looked directly at me through the gap the book left in between roles, raising one of his perfect eyebrows.

"Well?"

After a moment of letting his question sink in, I finally realized what he was referring to.

Had I decided to let him know my secret?

It would be a lot easier for me if I told him. He said he would leave me alone if I did. I would keep his fishy secret and he would keep mine. Then all of this would be over and I would never have to feel his steel gaze on me.

I would be free from all this madness and whispers in my head.

I looked up at him unconvinced, eyes studying his stoic face, the expression on it dull. I flashed back to those eyes last night, by the water, the sound of his large wings slitting the air in half, and then-

I remembered similar wings when Gravis, my mother, and I were hunched in that plane.

My eyes slightly widened at this revelation, Gravis' words haunting my thoughts.

"You cannot tell anyone, absolutely no one of your identity. Your survival and that of the Queen depends on it."

I might just be telling the enemy; heaven knows he looked like one of them. They all had the kind of wings that he had. This couldn't be a mere coincidence. He had wings like them, he could do things I was sure no one else actually knew he could. It wasn't just about the sirens anymore. Lira has said nothing about Harvest having wings, or doing that thing he did with the siren when I was dying...

My throat became dry at the memory, but I shook it away before it took root. And even if he wasn't the enemy, it would still be highly foolish of me to take the risk.

Newfound fear and cautiousness echoed within me staring into those blue orbs, slowly shaking my head to his question.

The answer was no.

I would not be trusting the scariest Convert I had ever had the displeasure of meeting and give up my secret.

His eyes stayed on me, shutting the book he had opened so loudly it broke me out of my trance, blinking when he slid the book back into the open slot, leaving me alone for a few seconds.

"I'm not surprised," he said, and I spun around surprised he was now in my row, just a few feet away from me, seeming to be checking out other books.

He took out a book with a pitch-dark cover, matching perfectly with whatever aesthetic he was going for with his limited fashion color choices, "You really want to make this difficult for yourself," he grunted looking up at me with narrowed eyes.

When I did nothing, he suddenly stomped towards me the book swinging by his side and it took everything in me to hold still, my grip tightening around my bag strap.

Looking down at me, inches away, tilted his head to the side, and then darkly chuckled.

Not like you did when something was particularly funny but a much chillier sound that screamed how pathetic I was, his eyes trailing up to the ceiling before back down at me, licking his lips, taking a threatening step closer.

The smirk wiped off his face, his expression dark, as I took an equal step back.

"They say to keep your friends close," he began, taking another step forward and I instinctively retaliated taking a step back, "and your enemies closer," he continued taking another step closer until my back hit the bookshelves.

He placed his ringed hands over me caging me in the most uncomfortable position ever, dark blue eyes searching mine.

"Because you refuse to obey, you have become my enemy, Talanda," he gritted out each word, but played with my name at the tip of his tongue which only creeped me out more especially at the perfect pronunciation.

My eyes widened at the blatant accusation.

Did things have to go this far? I was not a threat and he was a bloody psycho who just simply refused to listen and I was scared to the bone of him.

"And because you're my enemy," he whispered, eyes holding mine, "until we can find reasonable leveled ground," he continued a smirk appearing on his face, "you work for me."

My eyebrows furrowed at this watching him turn away, facing the empty hallways.

"Which is good, because I already have a job for you," he stated, turning back to me, dropping a book in my arms I had to frantically reach out to catch at the sudden action.

He grinned at my reflexes, suddenly turning around his coat trailing behind him.

"Walk with me," he ordered as I tried to patch in whatever the heck he was talking about.

I watched him stomp away heart thudding, unable to put together what was happening fast enough, before speed walking after him, shifting the book he had dropped in my arms, against my chest.

It was heavier than it looked and it had no name on the cover.

I found him in the next row checking out another book cover, placing one in my arms before I could react.

I sagged at the weight as he spoke, "There is something that was stolen from me," he grunted, eyes trailing over book covers as we walked, not even bothering to look back at me as he talked, "I need you to get it back for me."

My eyebrows creased at this, grunting as he placed another book over my load. I didn't know why he wanted my help; I was the worst detective on earth.

The last time I was curious about something I ended up stuck with him.

"The problem isn't in finding who stole it, I already know who that is," he grunted, his ringed hand touching his bottom lip, his eyes trailing over a book cover, opting to have a look at it, "but I would rather not give them the satisfaction of gaining my attention," he huffed placing the book back on the shelf.

His fingers trailed over hardcovers and I focused on the number of rings detailed on each one of them, the highest was three on the finger before his pinky.

He stopped at a particular book that he took out of the slot, "that's where you come in," he grunted, placing the book on the pile in my hands, "since you've seen it before."

I was very confused now.

In between struggling to keep my hands up from the heavy books I was lifting to his blatant insinuations, I was not liking my current predicament and I most certainly had not seen whatever he had lost.

"Small, intricate, shiny," he stated plainly, he took a step closer and my heart hailed, his eyes bore into mine, "very pretty," he added, and a shiver crossed my spine at those words, his eyes still focused on me, "metallic."

An image flooded into my head and realization suddenly dawned on me at the mention of the last attribute. Images flipped through my mind as it dawned on me what exactly he was talking about, my heart beating wildly and shutting my eyes.

"You've seen it," he stated, and I opened my eyes to a small smirk on his features, clearly having read my expression.

"It's very important to me, and she took it to get my attention," he grunted with a slight eye roll, "but you're... going to steal it back for me."

•~•
Our princess got her first job 🥳
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