Zara’s POV
The hallway is quieter now, most students already in their rooms or out at training grounds. I’m headed back to my dorm, my mind heavy with everything that’s happened today. I just want to shut the door behind me, curl up, and block out the world. But apparently, the world isn’t done with me yet. I don’t see them at first, not until I turn the corner and nearly walk right into them. Three girls. The same ones at the sidelines. They’re stunning. The kind of stunning that looks effortless, like they were born for the spotlight. Perfect hair, perfect skin, perfect sneers. They block my path, arms folded, eyes glittering with something sharp and unkind. For a heartbeat, I consider turning around, pretending I took the wrong turn. But I know better. Predators don’t let prey go that easy. “Well, well,” the tallest one says, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “Look who’s back.” Back? The word echoes in my head like a slap. My brow furrows, but I say nothing. There’s no point. I try to step around them, but they move as one, cutting me off. The air feels stuffy, as if their presence alone is enough to suck the oxygen from the corridor. “Thought you were done,” another girl sneers, tilting her head like she’s trying to figure me out. “Why even come back at all?” I blink at them, my pulse stuttering. What the hell are they talking about? My throat tightens. I can feel my heart beating hard against my ribs, like it’s trying to break free. I part my lips to speak, to tell them they’re mistaken, but they don’t give me a chance. “And really?” The third one, a blonde with ice in her eyes, steps closer. Her perfume is sharp, floral, and cloying. “You’re seriously going after Atlas again? After everything? Have you no shame?” Again? My stomach twists, the weight of their words sinking in fast. The floor beneath me feels like it’s tilting. Are they mistaking me for someone else? I manage to force words out, my voice quieter than I intend but steady. “I—I think you’ve got the wrong person.” My gaze shifts between them, hoping, praying, they’ll realize their mistake. But their expressions don’t change. If anything, they look more convinced. Like my denial is just another lie. The first girl lets out a laugh, sharp and bitter. It rings down the hall, making my skin prickle. “Oh, that’s rich. You even went as far as changing your name?” My breath catches. The words hit harder than they should. What is going on? I shake my head, heart pounding in my ears. “I’m not who you think I am,” I say again, but doubt creeps into my voice. Because what if… what if there’s something I don’t know? They exchange glances, smirks playing on their lips, like they’re sharing a secret I’m too stupid to understand. “Stay away from Atlas,” the blonde says, voice low, dangerous. “You’ll regret it if you don’t.” And just like that, they’re gone, their laughter trailing behind them that clings to my skin. I stood frozen. The hallway feels colder, emptier now. My legs feel weak, but I force myself to move, back pressed against the wall until I slide down to sit on the cold floor. My hands tremble as I hug my knees to my chest, trying to slow the wild beating of my heart. What just happened? I came here thinking I could start over. Thinking that pretty privilege, being the girl people usually smiled at, the one adults called “well-mannered,” the one boys tried to impress, would shield me. But I was wrong. The stares. The whispers. The cold shoulders. The accusations. None of it’s because they’re jealous of the new girl. All this because they think I’m someone else. Someone who left. Someone who hurt him. Someone who… changed their name? I stare down at my hands, fingers clenching my skirt so tight my knuckles turn white. I thought coming here was the fresh start I needed. After everything, after losing my mom, after being betrayed by my mate, well, whom I thought was my mate, after being betrayed by my best friend, my soul sister, this was supposed to be my escape. But it feels more like a trap. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the echo of their voices. I’m not here for Atlas. I don’t care about mates anymore. That bond? That stupid magical bond everyone craves? I don’t want it. Not after what my so-called mate did to me. All I want is to keep my head down, finish school, figure out who I am without all the grief and betrayal. But now? Now it feels like that won’t be possible. Because no one here sees me. They see whoever they think I am. And the worst part? I don’t even know who that girl is supposed to be. A chill runs down my spine. I glance up and down the hallway, half-expecting someone else to appear, to throw more accusations my way. I pull myself to my feet, legs shaking but determined. I have to keep going. I have to figure this out. I can’t let them break me. As I walk, their words replay in my head, each one slicing deeper. And beneath it all, that cold, sharp warning: Stay away from Atlas. I let out a shaky breath. I didn’t come here for anyone. But it looks like that won’t matter. Because no matter what I do, no matter how much I try to stay out of the way… They’ve already decided I’m the enemy.Zara The world had a way of pressing its claws into me until I bled. And I was sick of bleeding. I’d spent weeks—months—walking around as though my skin were parchment, every new rumor searing me open, every lie carving deeper until I could hardly breathe. Alex’s whispers had become wildfire, spreading through the halls of Blackwood like smoke in the lungs. Wherever I went, eyes clung to me, not with awe, but with suspicion, hunger, glee at the idea of watching me crumble. I was done crumbling. If Alex wanted a villain, then she would get one. That thought sat inside me like poison at first, bitter and burning. But poison had its uses. Poison killed. Poison, when measured, was power. And I had nothing left to lose. . The day I returned to school after the break, everything was wrong. The corridors seemed narrower, the walls whispering with voices that weren’t kind. I could hear Alex’s venom dripping through the gossip: She used Jace. She staged the kidnapping for attention. S
Alex POV The moment I step back onto campus after break, I can feel it—the whispers, the tension, the way everyone is watching Zara as if she’s some tragic heroine. Their eyes flicker toward her as though she’s delicate glass, just waiting to shatter. It makes me sick. She walks in a step slower than everyone else, her driver having dropped her off at the gates like some precious doll that needs protecting. She tucks her hair behind her ear, pretending not to notice the stares. But I see her. I always see her. She thrives on it—the attention, the sympathy, the narrative that bends itself around her fragile shoulders. Almost kidnapped. Poor Zara. What a joke. The rumors already circulate in soft, pitying tones: how a black car tried to take her, how Zarek saved her, how she was so brave. Brave. As if she didn’t orchestrate the entire thing just to cement her place in this school, to glue herself tighter to the dragon boy’s side. And I’ll make sure everyone knows it. . The cafe
Jace POV The first morning back after the two–week break felt wrong. The air around Blackwood Academy was the same as always—but the energy wasn’t. It carried whispers instead of laughter. Rumors slithered across the courtyard like snakes, curling between lockers, slipping beneath doorways, burrowing under skin. And every whisper had the same name threaded through it. Zara. I leaned against the rooftop railing, arms folded, eyes fixed on the gates below. From up here, I could see everything, the students trickling back, the gleaming black cars lined up along the drive, the clusters of friends reuniting. I was supposed to feel relief that things were returning to normal. I didn’t. Because nothing was normal anymore. I heard it in hushed voices. Did you hear? Someone tried to take her. No way, not Zara— The dragon prince was there, wasn’t he? Maybe he staged the whole thing. Every rumor was poison, and I swallowed each one until they sat heavy in my chest. I didn’t need proof
Zarek’s POV The street was still scorched where my fire had touched it. Smoke curled lazily from the asphalt, mingling with the acrid scent of singed flesh. Zara’s breathing was still ragged, uneven, her body trembling even as she tried to steady herself. Talia hovered near her, torn between concern and fear—the kind directed at me. I couldn’t blame her. She’d seen what I was. And Zara… Her wide eyes burned into me. Not gratitude. Not relief. Something sharper. More of suspicion. I looked away before I could dwell on it, before I let the faint tremor in my own hands show. Control. Always control. “Go home,” I told Talia, my voice low, and clipped. She hesitated. “But—” “Now.” My eyes flicked to hers, a deliberate threat woven in. Not for her, but for anyone who thought of lingering. She swallowed, nodded, and after a glance at Zara, hurried away down the street. That left just the two of us. I spotted her leaning against the marble column, her shoulders tight, her knuckles
Zara’s POV The car suddenly went another crazy stop in front of us. Then quickly, the doors clicked open. One, two, three. Men climbed out, their movements too casual, too deliberate. At first, I thought they were just men. But then the wind shifted. The stench hit me like a slap. Sour and metallic, threaded with decay. A smell my wolf recognized before my mind could name it—rogues. My heart lurched into my throat. Talia’s body shifted in front of mine instinctively, protective without a thought. Her voice was steady, though I caught the tightness at the edges. “Zara… don’t panic. Just… keep walking.” But the men didn’t move aside. One of them stepped forward, his smile a parody of friendliness. “Evening, ladies. Out a bit late, aren’t we?” The words dripped with something oily. My hands clenched around my bag’s handles until my knuckles ached. “We don’t want trouble,” Talia said, her voice firmer this time. The man laughed, a guttural, coarse sound. “That’s the problem. W
Zara POV The days at home bled together like dull shades of gray. I’d thought coming back would give me a little peace after the chaos of the engagement party, but instead it felt like I was suffocating in my own silence. The walls of my father’s mansion carried whispers I couldn’t reach, secrets thick enough to clog the air. Aunty May tried—she really did. She’d bustle into my room, leaving fresh tea by my bedside, asking questions about my semester, my classes, my wolf run. But every time her words brushed too close to the truth, I swallowed mine whole. I couldn’t tell her about Atlas storming away from me, about the rogue wolf’s glowing eyes, about Jace showing up out of nowhere… about Zarek. Especially not about Zarek. But the silence was eating me alive. That morning, over breakfast, my tongue slipped before my mind could stop it. “Aunty May…” My fork clattered against the porcelain. “Do you know anyone named Mira Blackwood?” The name cut the air sharper than glass. For h