My mouth dries. I can’t breathe. It’s like they’ve cracked me open without touching me.
“You read my file,” I say, voice hoarse. “You violated?—”
Luca laughs. “Violated? Sweetheart, that would require rules. There are none for people like us.”
“It’s funny,” Tex says. “You act like you’re so tough. But this? This is who you really are.”
I take a step back, but the door feels miles away.
“Damaged,” Noah murmurs. “Disposable.”
“I’m not,” I whisper. “I’m not?—”
“You're a charity case,” Jace says, finally breaking his silence. His voice is razor-sharp and soft all at once. “A broken little girl Daddy couldn’t keep hidden anymore.”
Something inside me cracks. I want to scream. I want to hit them. I want to disappear. But I won’t give them that. Not a single tear. Not an inch of weakness. I belong here. I won’t run from my legacy.
I meet Jace’s gaze, and, somehow, I manage to stand taller. My voice shakes, but I make it work.
“You had to dig through my file to find something to hurt me with,” I say. “Must be hard, being so powerful and still that pathetic. I’ve survived a lot worse than four spoiled assholes in blazers with nothing better to do with their time.”
The smirk fades from Luca’s mouth. Noah’s fingers pause over the screen. Tex’s expression darkens.
Jace narrows his eyes. “You’ll regret that.”
I already do. But I don’t show it. I just walk.
Even though I feel like my legs might give out any second, I walk. I don’t look back.
The trees loom overhead,the branches clawing like they want to pull the night down with them. Someone has strung fairy lights betweentrunks, their glow flickering gold through the dark like fireflies on a sugar rush. Music pulses in the distance, carried by the wind and the laughter of too many rich kids with too few consequences.
Dakota tugs at my sleeve. “You sure you’re okay? We can bail. Say the word.”
I adjust the leather jacket around my shoulders. “It’s fine. I’m not going to let them get to me.”
The woods are alive with commotion—bottles clinking, shadows dancing between fire pits, someone already shrieking with laughter near the edge of the clearing. The energy is feral, different from the marble halls and cold glances of Blackmoore Academy. Out here, no teachers. No uniforms. Just teenagers and trouble.
Dakota nudges me as we step fully into the clearing. “That's Cressida Lorne. Junior council. And over there’s Felix, he’s—well, kind of a jerk but his family bankrolls a lot of the academy’s events. He’s a sophomore.”
“And the host?”
She tilts her head toward the center bonfire. “Tall guy in the black hoodie, sipping something from a flask. That’s Kellan. Sophomore. Trust fund anarchist. Throws these ‘forest ragers’ every few weeks. Teachers pretend they don’t know.”
I take it all in, the way people melt into each other, conversations sparking, cigarettes glowing like embers between painted nails. Someone already has a speaker on full blast, blasting bass that makes the dirt hum underfoot.
Then I feel it.
That shift in atmosphere. Heads turning. A subtle ripple of tension passing through the clearing. Dakota stiffens beside me.
“They’re here,” she mutters.
I don’t have to ask who.
From the shadows, they emerge one by one—black coats, lazy grins, danger glinting in their eyes. Jace walks with intent, clearly expecting people to move aside like he’s royalty. Luca wears a smirk with a cigarette tucked behind his ear, dragging his fingers through his hair. Tex shoves someoneout of his path with his shoulder without even looking at them. Noah brings up the rear, the lights reflecting in his glasses.
Jace’s eyes meet mine. No smile. Just that quiet calculation. I don’t look away.
Evie and Brynn appear at my side with two plastic cups in each of their hands, breathless and flushed.
