CHAPTER FIVE

I didn't even need to look at him to know that his expression had changed. His rage had faded for a heartbeat, replaced by something sharper, something called hatred.

My thumb hovered over the screen, debating whether I should swipe it away before anyone noticed. Unfortunately, it was too late.

His voice cut through like a knife through ice: "Well, well, let me guess, Lioran sent you here."

I stiffened, my heart pounding in my ears. Whether or not Neville was a rival of the Veylar brothers, his reputation spread faster than he did. His continuous staring indicated that he knew I didn't fit in.

He moved closer, his gaze shifting to my phone. I silently cursed myself for not putting it away earlier.

"Lioran?" Nevile's brow arched. "That's a dangerous name to have lighting up your screen around here."

I pushed the phone back into my pocket, attempting to maintain a steady voice. "And what's it to you?"

It came out sharper than I intended, a silver sass breaking through my nerves, even though I was scared inside.

Nevile chuckled lowly and mockingly, "Feisty, I guess you don't know who I am yet, new boy, do you?"

He snarled, his hands tightening into a fist, "Get lost before I break the other side of your face."

My breath caught, and his shadow swallowed me as his hand rose.

The door creaked open just as Neville was about to explode. The sound alone was enough to calm the air, as if the entire room knew who was about to enter.

Lioran Veylar stood in the doorway, not rushing, not posing like Nevile, and not even acknowledging the tension that filled the space. He simply leaned against the frame, hands casually tucked into his pockets, his expression carved from stone. Cold, unfazed, and dangerous without having to try.

"You," Neville said in a poisonous tone. "I should have known; you always send dogs to do your bidding. If you want to fight, Veylar, stop testing me with new boys.

Serena, the girl he was making out with, perked up instantly, sliding off the bed and smoothing her dress. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her demeanor softening into something inviting.

"I didn't know you were here, Lioran," she purred, with a sweet voice.

But Lioran did not even look at her. His gaze never left Neville, whose fists trembled with restrained rage.

"Careful," Lioran said, his voice cold enough to freeze steel. "Your threats bore me."

The silence that followed was oppressive. Neville's jaw worked, but he did not move closer. Not with Lioran, not with those piercing eyes on him.

Finally, Lioran tilted his head slightly and gave me a look. The look was neither kind nor cruel. It was worse...calculating.

"You failed just this simple fucking test," he said softly but sharply. Then he turned and walked away.

My chest tightened; was it a test? I wanted to know what he meant. I thought it was just a task. Nevile hissed something vulgar behind me but didn’t follow. Serena was already clinging to his arm, seeking to regain his attention. I slipped away before either of them could stop me.

…

My new room was in the farthest corner of the west wing. Unlike the barrack-style dorms crammed with four students, this one was private and isolated, just like Neville's. It had only a single bed, a desk, and a locked window that overlooked the academy gardens.

I sank into the bed, my mind racing. Private rooms were not common unless my father intervened.

The thought caused bile to rise in my throat. It was more than just protection; it was control. Even here, surrounded by strangers, my father's shadow loomed, and if anyone discovered the truth I carried in my blood, the consequences would be more severe than any bully's fists.

That night, the air became colder. A loud knock echoed against my door. Then I walked up to it, wondering who it was; I didn't have any friends, so how would they know it was my room?

Then I opened it and saw the last person I expected to be there. Lioran.

His face was expressionless, just those eyes, which were unreadable.

"You'll follow my rules," he said flatly, ignoring my questioning look. How the hell did he know I stayed here, or did he follow my scent?

My pulse quickened; "What rules?"

"Don't talk unless you really have to. Don't draw attention to me, and don't interfere if you don't understand.” His pause was deliberate, and it stung. Then he said, "And don't mistake my protection for kindness."

The words kept me in place. Despite the coldness and ruthlessness, I sensed a burning sensation within me; was it anger? Who does he think he is to come here and give me rules that I don't even care about?

I wanted to protest, to demand answers, but the weight of his presence crushed the words in my throat, and before I could breathe, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the night.

...

Morning light spilled across my bed, but the weight on my chest was from voices, not dreams. Sitting on the bed, I drew my eyes open and sat in my baggy pajamas—one of my dad's—glad they didn't show.

And then I shot up, my eyes widening with surprise. Rowan Veylar sat lazily on my desk, spinning a dagger between his fingers. Another boy leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and smirked as if my existence were a joke.

"The academy can't stop talking about you, new boy," Rowan drawled, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. My stomach dropped, and I was terrified, despite my best efforts to pretend otherwise. Yesterday, this same guy delivered a powerful punch to me.

He leaned in closer, his smirk growing sharper. "Last I checked, my brother isn't into boys. And he certainly does not waste his time with girls. That is human weakness."

The other boy chuckled darkly, "So what makes you so special, Arian Vale?"

The question cut deeper than either of them realized. The only thing capable of destroying me was the truth, which no one here would ever know. And Rowan's smirk indicated that he wouldn’t stop until he found it.

Also, how did he know my full name?