Riven had been watching her all morning.
Not discreetly. Not with any ounce of shame either.
He leaned against the railing on the upper corridor like he owned it—because, well, he probably did in spirit. The heir of the Fire Dawn pack always carried himself like the world bent slightly around his will. Every flick of his golden eyes screamed confidence that dared anyone to look away first.
Nerissa tried to. God knew she tried.
But ignoring Riven Fireborn was like trying to ignore a wildfire in a library—impossible, loud, and bound to get someone burned.
She pulled her satchel higher up her shoulder and muttered under her breath, "Staring isn't going to make me combust, you know."
"Didn't say I wanted you to combust," Riven's voice floated lazily from behind her. "But now that you mention it…"
She whirled around, glare loaded. "Do you ever stop talking?"
"Only when someone makes it worth my while." He smirked.
"You're unbelievable."
"True. But at least I'm consistent."
Nerissa rolled her eyes so hard she thought she might sprain something and walked faster down the hall. The morning chatter of students echoed around her—the clang of lockers, laughter, footsteps—but none of it drowned out the awareness that he was still following. Not close enough to touch, but close enough to feel.
She hated that part the most. That quiet knowing.
She spotted Vanessa near the central fountain, fiddling with her books and looking oddly pale.
"Vanessa!" Nerissa called out, trotting to her. "Hey, where were you yesterday? You vanished after lunch."
Vanessa looked up, startled—then tried to smile, the kind of smile that wobbled like glass about to shatter. "Oh, you know, family stuff."
"Family stuff?" Nerissa tilted her head, unconvinced.
Vanessa gave a little shrug, eyes darting away. "It's nothing, really. My cousin's coming to join the academy."
"Oh. That's… good?"
"Not remotely." Vanessa sighed dramatically. "She's a nightmare. Thinks she's the Goddess' personal favorite. Hypocrite. Backstabber. Pretends she's all sunshine and charity when she's really just—ugh."
"Wow," Nerissa said, lips twitching. "Tell me how you really feel."
Vanessa smacked her lightly with a notebook, but there was no real energy behind it. "You'll see what I mean when she gets here. Name's Nia."
Nerissa froze.
The hallway noise dimmed.
"…what?"
Vanessa blinked. "Nia. Nia Bl—wait, why do you look like you've seen a ghost?"
Nerissa's throat went dry. The name hit like a slap.
Nia. Her Nia.
Memories flooded back—the same girl who'd once shared secrets and laughter, who'd later stood in front of everyone and twisted the truth until Nerissa's reputation shattered. Betrayal sharp as silver.
"I—" she started, voice soft. "I used to know her. We were friends. Until she framed me for something I didn't do."
Vanessa's eyes went wide. Then, slowly, her expression hardened into righteous fury. "She did what?"
"Long story," Nerissa murmured. "Not one I want to relive."
Vanessa let out a low whistle, crossing her arms. "Oh, she's in for it now. That backstabbing witch better not think she can walk in here like she owns the place. I'll make her wish she stayed home."
Nerissa blinked at her friend's vehemence. "Wow, remind me never to get on your bad side."
"Good idea." Vanessa grinned, then caught sight of movement behind Nerissa—and her grin turned sly. "Speaking of bad sides…"
Riven approached with that easy swagger that made other students part like the Red Sea. His hair gleamed under the sunlight, and his smirk could've been illegal in three states.
"Ladies," he greeted smoothly, gaze flicking from Vanessa to Nerissa. "Talking about me, I hope?"
Vanessa almost swooned on the spot. "Oh my God. Riven Fireborn actually talks to civilians."
Riven gave a mock bow. "Only the pretty ones."
Vanessa blushed crimson. Nerissa groaned. "Are you allergic to silence?"
"Only around you." His grin widened.
"Of course."
Riven 's attention shifted to Vanessa again, voice dripping charm. "Your cousin's arrival seems… dramatic."
Vanessa blinked. "You heard that?"
"I hear everything worth hearing."
Nerissa cut in, snatching Vanessa's sleeve. "We're going to be late for class."
Vanessa stumbled along but shot her a mischievous glance. "So… he's following you, yesterdayi heard it was Keal?"
"Unfortunately."
"I'd call it dedication."
"I'd call it stalking."
Vanessa giggled. "Still, can't complain about the view. He's like living art."
Riven, walking just behind them, smirked. "Your friend's intelligent. I like her."
Nerissa didn't even turn. "You like anything that breathes."
"Not true," he said with mock offense. "I have standards."
"Barely."
Their banter drew amused looks from nearby students. It was almost normal—almost—but beneath the teasing, a strange current hummed.
By the time they reached class, Vanessa was still buzzing. "So what's it like having the heir of like one of the most powerful pack tailing you all day? Do you two like—talk outside class?"
"Vanessa ." Nerissa's voice was a warning.
"What? I'm curious! Half the girls here would kill for a second glance from him."
"And half the guys would kill him for distracting the teachers," Nerissa muttered.
Vanessa laughed. "You're impossible."
"I try."
Class rolled on through the morning—Calculus, History, Potions Integration (the only class where human science met supernatural alchemy). Nerissa felt almost calm. Riven, surprisingly, behaved himself. He watched her from across the room, smirk soft but not teasing. There was something else there. A flicker of concern maybe? She brushed it off.
It wasn't until seventh period—Mathematics—that the peace cracked.
The teacher droned on about "Advanced Ratio Convergence," a topic even the brightest students barely pretended to care about. Half the class fought to stay awake.
Riven raised his hand casually. "Excuse me, Miss Granger. May I step out for a bit?"
The teacher blinked, clearly flustered by being addressed by one of the heirs of a superior pack"Oh—yes, of course, Mr. Fireborn. Don't take too long."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Riven said smoothly, slipping out with that effortless grace of his.
Nerissa caught herself watching him go, an odd twist settling in her chest. He didn't look back. He just… left.
The door clicked shut.
Silence stretched.
Then, from across the room, a voice sliced through the calm like glass.
"Well, well, well," sneered Mirabel, the kind of girl who mistook cruelty for confidence. "Looks like your guard dog's finally off duty, Flair."
The class chuckled. Nerissa's pencil stilled.
Mirabel propped her chin on her hand, eyes gleaming with venomous amusement. "Tell me, how'd you do it? Blackmail? Seduction? Or are the big bad Alphas into strays now?"
A few snickers rippled around the room.
Nerissa inhaled slowly. Count to ten. Don't cause a scene.
Mirabel didn't stop. "Honestly, it's pathetic. You walk in here with your mysterious transfer aura and suddenly all three heirs are hovering like lost puppies. What are you—some kind of curse magnet?"
More laughter.
Nerissa closed her book. The sound echoed in the suddenly quiet room.
"Say that again," she said softly
Mirabel smirked. "You deaf now too? I said—
She didn't finish.
Because Nerissa moved—swift, precise, and unhesitating. Four sharp smacks rang out before anyone could blink.
The classroom gasped.
Mirabel stumbled back, clutching her face, eyes wide. "You—you slapped me?!"
"Four times," Nerissa replied calmly. "Keep talking and I'll go for five."
Chaos erupted.
The teacher shouted. Desks screeched. Mirabel lunged forward, and Nerissa's street instincts kicked in—years of surviving places rougher than any academy hallway. She blocked, twisted, and before she knew it, someone yelped.
It wasn't Mirabel. It was the teacher, who'd tried to intervene at the worst possible moment.
Silence slammed down again.
"Oh no…" Nerissa whispered, realizing what just happened.