Lahat ng Kabanata ng THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME : Kabanata 161 - Kabanata 170

Thornecrest Academy, one week later.The academy hadn’t been the same since Inferno.It was all anyone talked about—the kind of night that became legend before it even ended. Even the ones who weren’t invited acted like they had been, dropping vague comments, trailing just enough detail to sound believable. As if their cousin’s roommate’s lab partner had definitely been there and told them all about the glowing drinks, the music that rattled bones, the way the lights pulsed like a heartbeat from underground.“Nothing compares,” someone whispered near the juice dispensers at breakfast.“House Prestige could never,” another scoffed in the hallway, rolling their eyes like they weren’t still furious they hadn’t gotten an invitation.Dominion, Valiant, Titan—they’d hosted their stupid gala nights and velvet-soaked socials. But this? This was underground. This was illegal-adjacent. This felt like it should’ve been shut down but somehow wasn’t, which only made it more powerful. It was dan

The invitation came too easily.Hannah stood at the edge of the stone courtyard, arms folded tight across her chest as a cold wind cut through the gaps in her jacket. The academy’s ancient clock tower loomed behind her, its shadow long and thin across the moss-slick cobbles. Every instinct in her body told her to walk away. Turn around. Go back.Instead, she faced him.Adonis Hale.Perfect posture. Impeccable coat. And that insufferable smile like he’d already won something.Behind him stood the rest of House Elect—Julia, Eddie, Sophia, and Jon arrayed like a chessboard of beautiful, expressionless predators. “We’ve reconsidered,” Adonis said smoothly, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. “You’re in.”Hannah arched a brow. “Just like that?”“Just like that.”She let her silence answer.A gust of wind blew her curls into her face. She didn’t move to fix them.“You humiliated me,” she said flatly. “In front of half the student body. And now you want to... induct me?”Adonis’s s

Miriam drifted in and out of sleep, heat pooling beneath her skin. She could taste the painkillers on the back of her tongue—chalky, synthetic, but not quite strong enough. The ache in her side flared with every shallow breath, sharp and stubborn, like her body didn’t trust the rest of her to stay alive without protest.Someone had wrapped her in a blanket.Beneath the sharp scent of antiseptic, there were quieter notes—floral shampoo, faint citrus, cigarette smoke fading in the hallway.Joy. Mika. Moses.They’d stayed.She didn’t need to open her eyes to know who moved when. Fiero adjusted the blinds without a word, his footsteps weightless. Mika tucked a heating pad along her ribs, hands steady. Moses mumbled something about herbal tea neutralizing radiation, which wasn’t how any of that worked.Even Samuel had lingered.He didn’t touch her, but sat close enough for his knee to press against hers. Long enough to mean something. Not long enough to admit it.By morning, her skin was c

The mid-terms were drawing near, and with them, the second half of the House Tournaments loomed on the horizon.The air at Thornecrest buzzed with the static crackle of nerves and sharpened ambition. Training fields were packed from dawn until curfew, sweat-soaked uniforms tossed beside blunted weapons. Strategy meetings stretched long into the night, voices hoarse over half-empty coffee cups and holographic schematics. Everyone had something to prove. And something to lose.House Royal polished their dueling techniques with precise, almost military discipline. House Titan pushed their athletes to the brink, timing every sprint, every spar, every breath. House Prestige obsessed over choreography and charisma, tailoring performances that would seduce the judges before a blade ever left its sheath.Every house was preparing.And the case of the missing second-year student? All but forgotten.Officially, the academy had filed it under burnout—a student crushed by expectations, vanis

The air in the House Six common room was doing something weird.It wasn’t just tense. It was... off. Like the room had paused to eavesdrop.Xavier still looked comfortable—annoyingly so. He lounged back in the armchair like it was his throne, legs crossed, one hand draped lazily over the armrest. His smirk hadn't moved since Joy had spoken.But his eyes had.Just a flick. A narrowing. The tiniest reaction to a line none of them ever thought they'd hear:“You’re Mikael’s son.”Joy’s words still hung in the air like cigarette smoke.No one moved. Not even Xavier. Not at first.Then he leaned forward slowly, resting his elbows on his knees. “That’s an interesting theory, Joy.”His tone was smooth, voice low, like he was trying not to yawn. That smug little tilt to his head? That was bait.Joy didn’t take it. She squared her shoulders. “It’s not a theory.”That landed. Not because of her voice—it was flat, steady—but because of what it implied. That she’d already made up her mind. That sh