Part 5: Interfering

VICTORIA’s POV

As we turn the corner into the corridor leading toward the auditorium, the sight of students fighting catches our attention.

A fight between students is a usual occurrence in Astra. Teenagers with their bodies flooding with hormones and powers, I mean, it is only right that they find a way to expel most of the hormones surging inside them.

I usually don't pay attention to these things unless a student's life is in danger. Astra is for the strong, and the weak get trampled upon.

I didn't make the rules.

If I intervened in every little fight that broke out at school, the students would never get stronger. These fights are a way for the school to allow for competitiveness, as long as no one is harmed.

So, why, then, did I intervene in this one?

All it took was for my eyes to see a ball of fire heading towards him for my limbs to react. Honestly, I didn't even realize I was acting until my powers shot out of my fingertips to send the fireball off course.

Blaise and Sasha give me a sharp look, clearly shocked by my interference. Something I never do, and I am not going to explain my reason why.

Of course, they know not to question me, at least not in front of the rest of our friends. I do not like my actions to be questioned, no matter how unreasonable they might be.

When we arrive before the group, I do not look at him, but focus my intense attention on Nate. I feel a sense of satisfaction when I see him flinch under my piercing regard.

Nate is a bully, one who regards himself as somewhat of a king among his flock, but to me, he is nothing but an overgrown baby who needs to prove something to appear important.

People like him are rarely strong and always tend to bluff their way in life.

How people don't know that beats my mind.

"Princess," he greets with reluctant respect, his head slightly bowed.

"What is going on here?" I demand, ignoring his pathetic greeting.

He stiffens at my icy tone, his eyes still averted.

"We were having a laugh," he mumbles, his speech coming through clenched teeth. He is probably irritated by being questioned.

Guys like him, who like to pretend that they rule the school, rarely appreciate it when they are made to see that there is someone stronger than them, that they are not the bigger fish.

I ignored his clenched fist, his tensed body, to look at his cronies. Nate always walks around with these two buffaloes flanking him.

They use their big size to intimidate other students, but when it comes to the true test of strength, they are nothing.

I subtly raise a brow at the sight of a massive bruise forming on the right side of the face of one of the cronies, and the other didn't look any better.

Moksh couldn't have done that. Though a smart boy, he lacks the physical strength to achieve such a feat.

It had to be him.

I feel him watching me, his gaze so intense I could feel it like a physical caress. My skin burns under the scorchy intensity, yet I continue to play ignorance. To act as if I am not aware of him, when in fact he is the only thing I am aware of.

His smell.

Leather and musk.

Very masculine.

"I don't think your friends are laughing."

Nate's expression tightens at my obvious sarcasm. He looks absolutely displeased that I pointed out his friends were humiliated by a freshman.

Well, that is the point.

A bully who glories in his strength needs to know that he doesn't have any. That the power he thinks he possesses is a mere illusion, sustained only by the fear of those he oppresses.

He glances sideways at his mates, giving them a look for embarrassing him. His evil glare had them shrinking backward, their faces dropped in shame.

While he stews on the humiliation he just received, I lean in to whisper something into his ear.

He reacts immediately to my words. His head snaps up, causing his eyes to meet mine. His pupils are slightly dilated with shock. He searched my face to gauge the seriousness of my words, and I held his gaze unflinchingly, my expression deadly serious.

He looks away from me toward the freshman boy behind me, his expression questioning. He is probably looking for something unique about the boy that piques my interest.

I don't think he finds what he was looking for because his attention returns to me with a deep furrow between his brows and a look of confusion in his eyes.

Well, I don't have to explain myself to him. He only needs to heed my words.

I walk off without another word to him. The warning has been given, and he doesn't dare disobey me.

He is fully aware of the consequences if he does.

The rest of my friends follow, but Rishi slows his stride to mutter something to his brother.

"When would you stop being such an embarrassment to the Branham's name?"

He sneers with disgust dripping from his voice.

You can probably tell from his tone that Rishi doesn't have a good relationship with his brother. As a fire user, Rishi is one of the most powerful Gifted in the school, and the Abrahams are a lineage of strong Gifted, mostly fire elements. Moksh is the only one who commands the water element, and his power is average.

A thing every member of his clan jeers at him for, especially his older brother.

"So who is the eye candy back there?" Isabelle asks, her tone excited, like a predator who just found fresh prey and can't wait for the hunt to start.

Her interest in the boy irritates me, but I act unbothered, continuing to walk without adding a word to the conversation sparked off by Isabelle's question.

"Another loser picked up by Moksh," Rishi answers, disdain dripping from his voice like melted ice cream dripping down the cup. "We know how my brothers love to collect those."

Moksh has a good heart and often goes out of his way to help people, unlike his brother, who feels such behavior is beneath a Branham.

Rishi was the only one who had anything to say about the new boy; everyone else was clueless.

"Do you know, Princess?"

The question from Cat is one that every one of my friends is dying to ask. They probably think my intervention back there is because of the boy, and they are right.

Now they want to know why.

Neither of them has the guts to ask me straight, except maybe Sasha and, apparently, Cat. The redhead is often timid, but occasionally she shows a bit of guts.

Or maybe not guts, but she can innocently ask questions, not because she has an ulterior motive, like when Isabelle does, but because she honestly wants to know.

The girl's innocence and probably her family are the reasons she is part of the clique.

Also, Sasha's hot for her.

Now everyone is looking at me, especially Blaise. I could feel his jealousy rearing its ugly head even though he had yet to say a word.

I have known Blaise long enough to read him without him saying a word.

"I don't."

My curt reply isn't what my friends expected. They gawked at me, confusion written all over their faces, except for Blaise, whose eyes continued to drill into my skull as if searching for some deeply buried secret.

"Then why did you save him?" Denzel voices the confusion in everyone's mind.

"We know you usually don't get involved in useless things like this."

Even though it sounds as if Isabelle is casually pointing out a fact, underneath the lightly voiced words is a hint of insinuation, orchestrated to provoke someone, and that person takes the bait.

I could feel the harsh intensity of Blaise's stare as he waited for my answer to Denzel/Isabelle's question.

"Because I felt like it," I said with a dismissive shrug of my shoulders. Blaise didn't like that. My answer wasn't explanatory enough for him. He reaches out his hand and grabs mine, forcing me to a stop.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Did he just growl at me? And is he questioning me?

I looked from the hand clasped tightly around my wrist to his bright brown eyes. Right now, they glowed with his irritation and jealousy.

When our eyes meet, I see him flinch and then avert his gaze.

This is one of the few things about him that I am not impressed with. He can never look me in the eyes or hold my gaze for long.

Most people find my purple iris disconcerting, but I would think the boy who claims to love me wouldn't be one of them.