Chapter 3 The Mask Cracks

It rained again.

Blackthorn always seemed wrapped in fog or storm, as if the sky itself knew the campus was cursed.

Aria sat on the stone bench outside the ancient library, her hair damp, the scent of wet leaves clinging to her clothes. Her fingers traced the strange symbol on the back of the leather book Lucien had given her the crown, mask, and bleeding rose.

It wasn't just a logo. It was a warning.

She flipped to a bookmarked page, her eyes locking on one sentence:

"The Chosen must give themselves fully. Mind, body, and silence."

She slammed the book shut.

"This is madness," she muttered.

"No. This is tradition."

She looked up and froze.

Lucien stood a few feet away, dark umbrella in one hand, mask in place, but his sharp jaw visible and glistening from the rain.

"You really like appearing out of nowhere," she said coldly.

"I like seeing what happens when people think they're alone," he replied. "Well, you're interrupting." "I do that, too." He stepped closer, offering her the umbrella. She didn't take it.

"Why me?" she asked suddenly. "Out of all the desperate scholarship students in the world, why did you choose me?"

Lucien looked at her for a long time. And for the first time, he didn't smirk. Didn't tease. He sat beside her, his voice quiet.

"Because you're not desperate.

You're dangerous." She scoffed. "I'm not dangerous." "Not yet," he said. "But you're angry. You're grieving. And you hide it well." Her hands clenched. "You don't know me."

"I know loss," he said, eyes darkening behind the mask. "And I know the look of someone who wants answers more than peace."

Aria turned away. "If this is another control tactic, save it." Lucien's voice dropped. "Your mother's death. The fire. The letter. You think it was all random?" She froze. "What did you just say?"

Lucien rose, his coat billowing in the wind.

"Keep reading the book," he said, walking away. "And meet me at the Glass Library tomorrow night." "Wait Lucien!" He stopped, without turning. "If you want the truth," he said softly, "be ready to pay the price." Then he disappeared into the mist.

That night, Aria couldn't sleep. She lay in bed, staring at the cracked ceiling, her mind racing. How did Lucien know about her mother's death? It wasn't public.

There'd been no news articles. Just a house fire and a closed case file. What did he mean, the fire wasn't random?

And what was the Glass Library? Across the room, Evie tossed and turned. Moonlight danced across her pale cheeks.

Aria almost woke her and asked if she knew anything about Lucien's cryptic warning. But something held her back. Trust was fragile at Blackthorn. Even friendships were suspect.

The Next Night – The Glass Library

Aria stood at the bottom of the East Tower, staring at a wall of mirrored panels. Her fingers grazed the smooth surface until one shifted.

She pushed.

A hidden passage opened.

Inside was a circular room made entirely of glass from the floor to the domed ceiling. Books lined the curved walls, and hundreds of candles floated midair, their reflections creating the illusion of stars.

Lucien stood at the center.

Mask gone.

Aria's breath caught.

A pale scar ran from his left temple down to his cheek, like a flame's memory burned into his skin. But his face... it was heartbreakingly beautiful in the candlelight. Sharp, tired, and oddly vulnerable.

"You took off the mask," she whispered.

"I don't wear it for me," he said. "I wear it for them.

" Aria stepped forward, slowly. "Them?"

"The people who fear what they don't understand," Lucien replied. "A little burn makes them forget you're human." Her voice softened. "You are human."

He met her eyes.

"No. I'm what power creates."

She walked to the nearest shelf, running her fingers along the spines. "You brought me here for answers."

Lucien nodded.

He handed her an old photo-faded, black and white. A group of students standing in front of Blackthorn's original gates. Five boys. Two girls. One woman in the center.

Her heart stopped.

It was her mother.

Smiling. Young. Alive.

"What is this?" she breathed.

"That's the original Elite Circle," Lucien said. "Your mother was one of them."

"No-no, she never told me-"

"She couldn't," he said. "The rules of the Circle are sealed in blood. She broke them... and they made her pay."

Tears burned behind her eyes.

"She died in a fire."

Lucien looked away. "She was silenced." Aria shook her head. "Why are you telling me this now?" Lucien stepped closer, his voice low and raw.

"Because if you don't understand the war you're in... you'll lose." The air between them grew heavier. Closer. Charged. Aria's hands trembled at her sides.

Lucien reached out and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"I swore I wouldn't get involved," he whispered. "But you're not like the others."

Her heart thundered.

He leaned in, slow, cautious.

But before their lips could meet, A sharp crack echoed from the wall. A book flew off the shelf. And a second later, the candles blew out. Darkness swallowed the room.

Lucien yanked Aria behind him, his body tense. "Stay behind me," he ordered. Shadows shifted along the glass walls.

Someone was here.

Someone watching.

Then, silence. A slow clap.

And a voice.

"So, this is the girl who's making the devil break his own rules." Lucien's hand tightened around Aria's wrist. A figure stepped into the dim candlelight-dressed in a navy coat, silver chain hanging from his pocket, and a sly grin on his perfect face.

Cassian Blackwell.

Lucien's former best friend.

His current nightmare.

And judging by the way his eyes swept over Aria...

Her newest problem.