Classroom Of The Elite Volume 1 Novels & Stories

He quickly took in the presence of the girl Her raven black hair, attractive plump lips and brown eyes. He turned his eyes away from her and proceeds to teach. "I hope you all understood the topic and have a good day today, we'll have a short revision test in our next class" Dane said before leaving the classroom The class instantly became noisy after he left, everyone kept talking about the new hot lecturer. She just simply rolled her eyes and turned her concentration back to her phone, she hardly concentrated on what he taught...She didn't even find anything special in him, of course he was indeed handsome, she disliked him for his actions

The sudden interruption left a tense silence in its wake, the kind that hinted at brewing chaos. Inside the classroom, five students sat scattered across the room, their attention having been on the Centaur moments before. Four were male, each radiating an aura of strength and quiet intensity, while the fifth was a striking girl with long, shoulder-length pink hair that shimmered under the dim classroom lights. They had been focused, listening intently to the teacher, but now their gazes shifted sharply toward the intruders.

he said and vanished down the next hall without looking back to make sure I followed him. I trailed along behind him, as I wasn't going to walk the last bit alone. When we reached the doorway of the classroom, Eli stopped. He looked over my shoulder, and his lips closed in a hasty "snap" that made my stomach fall. I didn't have to look to know who was standing behind me. I took my seat quietly without looking around. Eyes were heavier when you looked back at them, and I'd already been burdened enough on my shoulders. The room was warmer than the hall, the heat of too many bodies mixed with the smell of pencil shavings and dry markers. The teacher was still gathering her belongings, which lef

Chapter Four: The Boy From the Past Elara’s POV I hated being late. Mira and I stood just outside the classroom door, our hearts thumping fast. We could hear the professor already talking. I looked at her. She looked at me. “Are you ready?” she whispered. “No,” I muttered, holding my books tighter, “but let’s just do it.” We quietly pushed the door open. The classroom was packed—every seat taken. Heads turned. The professor frowned, his sharp eyes narrowing behind round glasses.

She sat up slowly, her expression dazed, sated. He leaned down, his lips brushing her ear. "Detention's over. But this lesson... this is just getting started." _____ The university library was a cathedral of silence and old knowledge. The advanced literature class moved in a hushed cluster through the stacks, a week after the detention incident. Tension hummed between teacher and student like a live wire. Stolen glances in the hallway, the brush of a hand when passing papers, each touch was electric, addictive. Mr. James Throne watched Elena from across the Rare Manuscripts room. She was pretending to examine a first edition of Frankenstein, but her eyes kept drifting to him. She wore a simp

It felt more like a high court than a classroom. Only thirty of us had qualified for this elite track; names that would one day be signed at the bottom of international treaties. I took a seat in the center row, my black leather jacket a sharp, defiant contrast against the green velvet. I wasn't surprised to see Riven lounging in the back; his dark gaze was fixed on the ceiling, looking bored but entirely present. Dahlia and Elara sat nearby, sharp and attentive.

There were no words. Just an attachment. Frowning, I tapped the image. At first, it looked blurry. Dark shapes behind frosted glass. Then my stomach dropped. Two figures. Standing extremely close together inside a classroom. One taller. One leaning forward slightly. Even distorted through the blurry quality, I recognized us immediately. My breathing stopped. The timestamp at the bottom corner read: BLACKWOOD HIGH — ROOM 214. The classroom. My fingers suddenly felt numb around the phone. No text followed. No threat. No explanation.

--- That afternoon. Ella sat quietly in an empty classroom reviewing lecture notes. The door suddenly slammed open. Several students entered. Two boys. Three girls. Known campus troublemakers. They walked directly toward her. Ella didn't even look up. A mocking laugh sounded. "So this is the abandoned daughter?" The leader grabbed her notebook. Then threw it onto the floor. Splash! A bottle of water followed. Her notes instantly became soaked. The classroom erupted with laughter. Outside the room. Bella watched from a distance.

Without the core encryption key, that system would not last three minutes in a code-combat test. I took a cab to the airport and sat in the waiting area, watching planes lift into the sky beyond the window. My phone stayed quiet. Victor was probably still basking in the joy of thinking he was about to win a billion-dollar contract. He had no time to bother with me. I opened my tablet and logged into the internal livestream of the bidding venue. On the screen, Sophie was standing onstage, speaking smoothly through the PowerPoint. Victor sat in the first row below, gazing at her with admiration.

Ceremonial. Elowyn stood near the edge of the crowd, her fingers trembling lightly as she thought of the flask in her bag. One sip left. Just one. The platform ahead rose slowly. Two instructors stood on it — one broad-shouldered with a bronze neck cuff, and one tall and severe with silver beads in his braids. “Welcome to the first Scenting Class of the semester,” the tall instructor said. His voice echoed, firm and precise. “This is where the truth of who you are will be revealed....”