The classroom froze.
The only sound was the faint dripping of the overturned beaker on the floor, mixing water with bits of chalk dust and panic.
Miss Granger touched her cheek, blinking in disbelief. "Nerissa… you just—hit me?"
Nerissa's stomach dropped. " I'm so sorry, I—I didn't mean to! She—Mirabel—"
"Principal's office. Now."
No shouting, no theatrics. Just that calm, deadly teacher tone that promised hell would follow.
The class was so silent you could hear every creak of Nerissa's shoes as she walked to the door. She didn't look back, but she could feel every stare, every whisper starting to form behind her.
"Crazy," someone muttered.
"Did you see her face? That slap—"
"Guess the rumors were true."
She clenched her fists and kept walking.
By the time she reached the hallway, she was vibrating rage, or guilt, or humiliation she couldn't tell which was worse.
She'd worked so hard to stay out of trouble, and now… this.
"Flair."
Her name came sharp and low from behind.
She didn't have to turn to know who it was.
Riven leaned against the wall near the corridor corner, arms crossed.
He must've come back just in time to hear the chaos because his gaze was too sharp, too knowing.
"You left during seventh period," she snapped. "Good timing, by the way."
"Didn't think you'd declare war while I was gone."
She glared. "I didn't start it."
He pushed off the wall, walking toward her with that lazy, confident stride. "Doesn't matter who started it. You hit a teacher."
"It was an accident!"
His lips twitched. "So was the other four slaps?"
Her jaw dropped. "You—were you spying?"
"I heard," he said simply. "Walls aren't that thick."
She groaned and buried her face in her palms. "I can't believe this."
"Believe it," he said softly. "Because the headmaster's already been informed."
Before she could reply, the announcement speaker buzzed overhead.
"Nerissa Flair, report to the headmaster's office immediately."
She winced. "Great. I'm officially doomed."
The walk to the headmaster's office felt like marching to her own execution.
Riven followed silently beside her—not ordered to, not invited, just there. She didn't question it. She didn't have the energy.
When they reached the carved oak doors, Riven knocked once and pushed them open without waiting for a response.
Vale sat there his eyes deep as he stared at Nerissa entering the office. His expression was unreadable.
"Miss Flair. Mr. Fireborn. Sit."
Nerissa sat, rigid. Riven dropped into his seat like he owned the place.
Vale folded his hands. "Miss Granger reports you physically assaulted a student and—accidentally—struck her in the process."
Nerissa swallowed. "Sir, I didn't—"
He raised a hand. "I'm not interested in excuses. The rules apply equally to everyone, regardless of pack or… lineage."
The pause was heavy.
He knew. Of course, he did.
"Therefore," Vale continued, "you will serve one week of detention under supervision, and you will also clean the male dormitory bathrooms for that duration."
Her eyes widened. "The male—?"
He ignored her. "As for Miss Mirabel, she will also serve detention and issue a written apology."
"That's not—" Nerissa started, but Riven's hand on her arm stopped her.
It wasn't harsh, just firm.
"Don't," he murmured under his breath.
Vale's gaze flicked between them, sharp as a blade. "Is there a problem, Mr. Fireborn?"
Riven leaned back in his chair. "None at all, Headmaster. Though if she's cleaning the male dorms, I'll make sure no one bothers her."
Vale's brow rose slightly. "I'm sure she'll manage."
Nerissa's glare could've melted iron, but Riven only smiled faintly, as if daring her to argue in front of the Headmaster.
When the meeting finally ended, Vale dismissed them with a curt wave. "You may go. And, Miss Flair—control your temper. It's unbecoming for one of your potential… standing."
Outside, Nerissa exploded.
"Are you kidding me? Cleaning bathrooms? For a week?!"
Riven shoved his hands into his pockets, trying not to grin. "Could've been worse."
"How?"
"They could've expelled you. Or made you clean the girls' dorms. You'd never survive that jungle."
She shot him a glare so fierce he actually laughed.
"Oh, don't act like it's the end of the world," he said, tone softening. "You've survived worse."
"Yeah, well, doesn't mean I have to enjoy it."
Riven studied her for a long moment. "You okay?"
She blinked. The question was simple, but it held more weight than she expected. "I just hit a teacher, got humiliated, and now I have to scrub toilets. What do you think?"
"I think," he said quietly, "you're tougher than you let people see."
Something in his voice—earnest, careful—made her chest tighten.
But before she could answer, he added with a smirk, "Still, I'll make sure Lucien and Kael know to keep the dorms cleaner this week. Wouldn't want you traumatized."
The moment shattered. "You're impossible."
"Admit it—you'd miss me if I stopped talking."
"I'd celebrate."
He laughed softly. "Sure you would."
Detention.
The word itself felt heavy when she entered the large, dimly lit room later that evening. It seemed the detention room changes every time, because the person who led her here said, it depends.
But depend on what exactly?
Kael was already there, lounging with his usual calm air, flipping through a book he clearly had no interest in.
"Rough day?" he asked without looking up.
"You heard?"
"Everyone heard. Mirabel's been crying since lunch. Apparently, you 'nearly broke her face.'"
Nerissa groaned. "Fantastic."
Kael smiled faintly. "Don't worry. She deserved at least three of those slaps."
She couldn't help it—she laughed.
"Where's Riven?" she asked.
"Got caught trying to sneak in here early. Said he didn't want you to have all the fun."
As if summoned, the door opened, and Riven strolled in, hands behind his head. "Miss me?"
"Like a rash," Nerissa said flatly.
Kael snorted. "You two should really get that checked out."
The detention supervisor, a bored-looking ogre, glared at them. "Quiet, oryou'll scrub the floor next."
They fell silent—for exactly ten seconds.
Riven leaned toward Nerissa. "You know, cleaning toilets might be good for your character arc."
She shot him a dark look. "You volunteer for my spot, then."
"Tempting," he said, grin tugging at his lips. "But I'm allergic to punishment."
Kael chuckled quietly, watching them with the air of someone thoroughly entertained.
The next hour was a blur of snide remarks, stolen glances, and muffled laughter—because somehow, even detention wasn't enough to make Riven Fireborn stop being Riven Fireborn.
And through it all, Nerissa tried not to notice how, when he thought she wasn't looking, his expression slipped—calm gone, worry creeping in like a shadow he couldn't hide.
By the time detention ended, Nerissa gathered her books and turned to him. "Thanks for… whatever that was."
He shrugged. "Anytime."
"You didn't even do anything."
"Exactly." His smirk softened into something real. "Sometimes doing nothing is the best way to help."
She didn't have a response for that.
So she just said, "Good night, Riven," and left before he could see the tiny smile she couldn't quite stop.