† 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 † Angels Love

Chapter 25

Spring arrived with a quiet sigh, the world around me coming to life in a burst of color and sound. Blossoms covered the trees in delicate pinks and whites, the air filled with the scent of new growth and the songs of birds returning from their winter retreats. The students at the academy seemed to bloom with the season, laughter and chatter filling the hallways, a sense of renewal and hope in every smile.

But I felt none of it.

My days became a monotonous routine, each one blending into the next. I woke early, made my bed with military precision, and dressed in the simple, modest clothing that my father approved of. I went to my classes, sat at the front, and took meticulous notes, answering every question with the same detached precision. I practiced my magic with a focus that bordered on obsession, my spells perfect, my potions flawless. I was everything my father wanted me to be: obedient, disciplined, a perfect reflection of the Codex's teachings.

I didn't speak unless spoken to. I didn't laugh, didn't cry, didn't show any emotion. I avoided my friends, avoided the places where I might run into Christopher. I moved through the academy like a ghost, a silent, dutiful shadow of my former self. The other students noticed, their whispers following me down the halls, but I ignored them. None of it mattered. 

I had made my choice. 

I would be the daughter my father wanted. 

I would not make the same mistake Zade had made.

Every few weeks, my father would visit. He'd arrive unannounced, stepping into my dorm room with the silent authority that always accompanied him. He'd look me up and down, his eyes searching for any sign of defiance, any hint of the girl who had once dared to love a devil. I would stand there, my hands clasped in front of me, my eyes cast downward, answering his questions with quiet obedience.

"Are you keeping up with your studies?" he would ask, his voice cool and measured.

"Yes, Father," I would reply, my voice steady, my gaze fixed on the floor. "I'm at the top of my class."

"Good," he would say, nodding slightly. "And your behavior? No more fraternizing with the wrong sort, I hope?"

"No, Father," I would answer, my heart tightening in my chest. "I keep to myself. I don't speak to him."

He'd study me for a moment longer, his eyes probing, and then he'd nod again, satisfied. "Very well. Continue as you are. Remember, Star, your actions reflect upon our family. I won't tolerate any more disgrace."

"Yes, Father," I would say, bowing my head, my hands clenching into fists behind my back. "I understand."

He would leave then, the door closing softly behind him, and I would let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Each visit was the same, each one a test to make sure I hadn't strayed, hadn't slipped back into the folly of my feelings. I would stand in the silence of my room, my heart aching with the weight of the love I couldn't express, the tears I refused to shed.

I missed Christopher with a depth that felt like a physical pain, a constant ache that never left me. I saw him sometimes, in the hallways, in the dining hall, his presence like a shadow on the edge of my vision. He looked the same as always—confident, strong, his eyes bright with that familiar mischief. But when our gazes met, I would turn away, refusing to let him see the longing in my eyes, the hurt that still simmered beneath my carefully constructed facade.

He had been my everything, the one who made me feel alive, who made me believe that love was worth the risk. But now, I was nothing more than my father's perfect daughter, a model student, an obedient child. I had locked my heart away, hidden it behind walls so high and thick that even Christopher couldn't break through.

The days turned into weeks, the weeks into months, each one passing in a blur of sameness. I became numb, the pain dulling to a constant background noise, a distant echo of what I had once felt. I buried my love for Christopher deep inside, where no one could find it, not even myself. I became what my father wanted: a perfect reflection of the Codex's teachings, a daughter who would never bring shame to the family name.

But every night, as I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling, I would feel the tears prick at my eyes, the emptiness clawing at my chest. And I would wonder if this was how Zade had felt, trapped between love and duty, between his heart and the unyielding expectations of our father. I wondered if he had ever regretted his choice, or if, even at the end, he had found some solace in the love he had fought so hard to hold onto.

And as spring blossomed around me, I remained frozen, untouched by the warmth and light, trapped in a winter of my own making, longing for the one thing I couldn't have: a love that was as impossible as it was undeniable.