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128: A Master For House Six
Huling Na-update:
2025-05-26 07:01:39The walls of Thornecrest Academy were thick with whispers.
Rumors slithered down corridors and coiled beneath lunch tables. In the libraries, they flared with every turning page. In the courtyard, they hissed between students like venom passed hand to hand. House Dominion and House Elect had planned their attack carefully, planting seeds of doubt and waiting for the rot to spread. “House Six is finally getting disciplined.” “They’re just thugs who got lucky—now they’ll fall in line.” “Even Fiero is scared of the board.” The school watched with bated breath. Some students whispered gleefully, hoping to see the fall of a dynasty. Others—the ones who’d felt House Six’s power firsthand—watched in silence, more cautious than curious. Because if there was one thing everyone knew about House Six… they never just let things happen. Morning in the Hou
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THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 134: The Unwanted Guest
House Six was enjoying the rare peace that came with a near-end to midterms.The storm of exams had nearly passed, with only one day left, and the members were settled in their dorm, basking in the quiet. The kind of quiet that only came when every brain cell had been wrung dry and the only thing left to do was exist.Their house master was nowhere to be found, having disappeared to do… well, whatever it was that Xavier did when he wasn’t micromanaging their lives. Probably glowering into a teacup somewhere.Mika yawned loudly. “When midterms end, I’m gonna sleep for twenty hours straight.”“Make it thirty,” Miriam muttered, tossing a chip at her. “But only after you stop stealing my snacks.”“I don’t steal,” Mika said, fake-gasping. “I borrow permanently.”“You ‘borrowed permanently’ my entire stash of chocolate last week.”“I don’t recall.”Samuel didn’t even look up. “That’s because she replaced it
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 133: Roots That Run Deep
The midterms had been going smoothly, with just two more days left. Most students were drowning in last-minute revisions, but House Six? They had their own problems.Right now, Joy was yelling at Fiero.“Are you actually insane?” she snapped, standing over him in the common room, arms crossed, eyes blazing. “You ran out of your medication and didn’t think to tell anyone?”Fiero sat sprawled on the worn velvet couch like it was a throne, his body perfectly still. One arm draped along the backrest, the other resting lazily on his thigh. His face betrayed nothing—no shame, no defensiveness. Just a kind of calm detachment that only made her angrier.He didn’t answer. Didn’t flinch. Just looked at her.But God, did he look at her.His gaze traced the hard set of her jaw, the way her brows drew together when she was furious. The way her chest rose and fell with every breath she took to keep herself from exploding. And for a second—just
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 132: Static Between Heartbeats
The air in Thornecrest Academy had turned sharp. It clung to the skin like static, electric with tension. Sunlight poured through the high, cathedral-style windows, casting white bars across the polished floors. It was exam week. The building, typically a buzzing hive of elite ambition and polished pride, now resembled a cathedral of silence.No laughter, no footsteps, no gossip whispered behind hands. Only the sterile rustle of paper and the steady, desperate scratch of pens filled the void.In the largest examination wing, rows upon rows of students bent over their desks like penitents, brows furrowed, mouths set in grim lines. Some mouthed formulas to themselves. Others scribbled with frantic intensity. A few had gone pale from the pressure.For most, this was a war zone. A trial by fire that would decide whether they rose or fell in the hierarchy of Thornecrest.But for House Six, it was something else entirely.In
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 131: Prep And Pretense
Midterms loomed over Thornecrest Academy like an approaching storm, each day carrying the weight of inevitable judgment. The House Tournaments, the school’s most anticipated event, would follow shortly after, a brutal clash of intellect, skill, and influence. Students were restless, the tension palpable.The prep hall was filled with students buried in textbooks, their hushed voices blending with the furious scratching of pens on paper. House Dominion had taken over the front rows, their members exchanging notes like seasoned politicians sealing deals. House Titan’s athletes, barely concealing their impatience, flipped through study guides with the same intensity they approached their sports. Even the ever-elusive House Phantom had scattered themselves across the room, sharp-eyed and whispering among themselves.Amidst this academic chaos, Miriam sat at one of the tables, her fingers moving swiftly across the screen of her tablet as sh
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 130: Relics And Resentment
The House Masters’ General Lounge was steeped in tension, the air thick with unspoken resentment.The long, polished table stretched beneath a chandelier that cast fractured light onto the surface—shadows slinking across crests etched into the dark walls.Dust motes hovered like patient witnesses. The scent of polished wood and aging leather clung to the space, heavy and unmoved, like tradition choking on its own legacy.Only those who commanded authority sat at the table, but the true weight of the moment rested not with the men, but with the two artifacts placed precisely at its center.The Pact Ring, its golden surface untouched, gleamed like a promise made in blood—unyielding, absolute. And the Gilded Standard, folded with near-military precision, bore the unmistakable weight of faded glory. Symbols of power. Of control. Of loss.At the head of the table, Dr. Xavier Peterson sat comfortably, one leg crossed over the other, fingers tap
THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME 129: Kingmaker
The air was thick with tension.He stood in the doorway, motioning for them to open the door like a shadow carved from steel—black suit pressed, collar sharp, face half-lit under the dorm’s flickering light. A man built from discipline. Danger. The kind of presence that rewrote a room without needing a word. Silence pressed in like fog. The air itself seemed to retreat from him.A low whir of the keypad buzzed beneath Miriam’s fingers as she inputted the code. The lock clicked.No one moved.Xavier Peterson didn’t rush. He lifted both hands slowly—fingers like sculpted bone, movements deliberate—as he unbuttoned his jacket. His shoulders rolled as he stepped through the threshold like he’d done it a thousand times. Like he already owned the place.House Six stood frozen in the narrow hallway, backs straight, eyes unblinking. The hallway light sputtered above them, catching the sharp gleam of steel in Samuel’s hand.
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