What In The Name Of Switches Is Happening?

Tiara’s POV

I… can’t process this.

Not even a little.

Because Luke Thorne is stepping closer.

And his golden eyes… they’re glistening like molten metal, locked on me with this strange kind of amusement that only makes my heart slam harder in my chest.

I swallow. Hard. My back bumps into the cold wall as I try to keep some space between us.

But he doesn’t stop.

And before I can react, he pins me there, one strong hand flat against the wall next to my head, leaning in so close I can feel his breath fan across my cheek.

“Yes,” he says, his voice low, a humming sound, mesmerizing me senseless.

“I wanted you to help me get closer to Elara…”

I squeeze my eyes shut. My knees feel like they’re melting.

“…but—”

That word hangs in the air like a trap.

“But?” I whisper, my voice cracking.

My legs feel like they might give out any second.

His smirk deepens, and he leans even closer, his nose almost brushing mine.

“But…” he murmurs, golden eyes glittering, “…it suddenly feels like everything was programmed. Like I was supposed to like her. But now…”

I stare up at him, every nerve in my body screaming.

“But now what?” I breathe.

“Now…”

He’s so close now I can feel the warmth of his chest against mine.

“…I’ve lost interest,” he finishes, his voice dropping even lower, “…because of a certain someone.”

I can’t breathe.

“W-who?” I manage to stammer, my hands pressed flat against the wall, trying to keep my balance.

He leans in even closer. His lips are practically grazing my ear when he whispers—

“How about…”

I feel his hand slide around my waist, pulling me against him, “…you date me instead, Tiara?”

That’s it.

My legs just… give out.

I stumble forward, and his arms catch me before I hit the floor.

He actually laughs. Not cruel like Ross’s laugh. Warm. Dark.

“Well, at least you’re honest about your reaction,” he murmurs, holding me close, his breath hot against my temple.

I bury my face in his chest, my cheeks on fire.

I don’t even know what to say.

I mean… I’m Tiara. The nobody. The stain.

Not Elara.

Not the perfect heroine.

So why is he looking at me like this?

Why is he holding me like this?

My head is spinning so fast I don’t even realize how long I’ve stayed quiet until his voice cuts through my thoughts.

“Don’t zone out on me, Ti.”

I blink up at him.

“I just asked you out,” he says with a lazy smirk.

And that snaps me out of it.

“What—”

I shove him back before I even know what I’m doing.

He actually looks surprised. Like no one’s ever pushed him before.

“Whatever,” I snap, rubbing my arms. “I need to find Elara first. You can cover for me.”

He blinks. “…cover for you?”

“You’ve snuck out of this place plenty of times to hunt past curfew,” I throw over my shoulder as I head for the door. “So don’t act innocent now.”

He lets out a gasp, I felt like I said something u shouldn't have but I have no time to process it.

I just run.

His golden eyes burn in the back of my mind the whole way down the stairs.

The hallways are quiet, but I already know exactly where I’m going.

Of course I do.

I’ve read the twenty series of this book, almost twenty times. Except the last copy.

Elara lives in the girls’ dormitory across the courtyard. She doesn’t have roommates — or at least she wasn’t supposed to. Her room was her sanctuary.

My shoes skid on the polished floors as I cut through the building and out into the night. The courtyard’s empty except for a few distant silhouettes smoking behind the bleachers.

I keep my head down and move fast.

The girls’ dorm looms ahead, tall and dark. I slip inside and climb the stairs two at a time, my chest heaving.

I stop outside door #204.

I know this door by heart.

It’s supposed to be hers.

I press my palm to the wood, then turn the knob and push it open.

And freeze.

Because… this room… isn’t empty.

The bed closest to the window is perfectly made, covered in soft lavender sheets.

But the bed by the wall…

That bed has my things on it.

The quilt I’ve had since I was a kid. My bag slung over the chair. My toothbrush is on the sink.

And sitting on the other bed, filing her nails, is…

Her.

Elara.

I almost forget how to breathe.

She’s… beautiful.

No. Beautiful doesn’t even cover it.

She’s unreal.

Long, perfect blonde hair falling over her shoulders like spun gold. Big icy blue eyes. Skin like porcelain.

She looks up at me through her lashes and sneers.

“What the hell are you staring at, bitch?” she says flatly.

I blink. “…what?”

“Don’t just stand there,” she snaps, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “It’s creepy.”

My mouth opens and closes.

“Wait…” I manage. “…what?”

She rolls her eyes and stands, sauntering toward me in her silk nightgown.

“Don’t stare at me like that,” she says, her tone sharp and cold. “It’s bad enough I have to share a room with a pushover like you. Don’t make me stick your head in the toilet again. Got it?”

I just… stand there.

What. The actual. Hell.

In the book, Elara was sweet. Kind. The quiet heroine who saved everyone.

But this Elara?

She’s glaring at me like I’m the villain here.

My voice comes out weak. “…you’re… you’re Elara?”

She snorts and flops back onto her bed.

“Duh. Who else would I be?”

Then she throws me a dirty look.

“And don’t get any ideas just because you’re sharing a room with me. You’re not special. You’re just… you. So don’t get in my way. Understand?”

I just… stare at her.

My whole body feels like it’s been dropped in ice water.

Because nothing…nothing about this makes sense.

And all I can think is…

Was Elara now the antagonist?