Sera's POV
I wake up to the smell of bacon and the sound of arguing.
For a second, I forget where I am. Then it all crashes back—the pills, the roof, the Dark Angels saving me, the impossible deal I made.
My head pounds. My throat feels raw. But I'm alive.
Unfortunately or fortunately? I still don't know.
"You can't just give her coffee, you idiot. She needs water and electrolytes." That's Ezra's voice, sharp and bossy.
"She specifically asked for coffee." Killian sounds annoyed. "I'm not going to tell her no."
"She almost died twelve hours ago!"
"Which is exactly why I'm giving her what she wants!"
I sit up slowly, and the room spins a little. Dante's suite looks different in daylight—still expensive, but less intimidating. Morning sun streams through huge windows. The four boys are crowded in the kitchen area, and Phoenix is burning something on the stove.
"Shit, shit, shit!" Phoenix waves a towel at smoking toast. "I swear it wasn't on fire a second ago!"
Despite everything, I almost smile. Almost.
"She's awake," Dante announces, noticing me. All four heads snap in my direction.
The way they look at me—like I might disappear if they blink—makes my stomach twist with confusion.
"How do you feel?" Killian asks, already moving toward me with a glass of water.
"Like I drank poison," I say honestly. "Which I guess I did."
Nobody laughs. The silence is heavy and awkward.
Phoenix abandons his burning toast and sits on the edge of the bed, careful not to touch me. "We made you breakfast. Well, we tried. Turns out none of us actually know how to cook."
"We usually order in," Ezra adds, bringing over a plate with somewhat-burned eggs and very-burned bacon. "But we thought... I don't know. We thought making it ourselves might be better?"
I stare at the disaster on the plate. Three years they've made my life hell, and now they're burning bacon for me?
"This is weird," I say flatly. "You guys being nice is really, really weird."
"Yeah," Dante agrees, leaning against the wall. "It's weird for us too."
I take the plate because I don't know what else to do. The eggs taste like salt and regret, but I eat them anyway. I'm starving, and honestly? It's the first time in years someone's made me food that wasn't meant to humiliate me.
"What time is it?" I ask.
"Seven AM," Ezra answers. "Saturday. No school."
"My father—"
"Thinks you're staying at a friend's house for a study weekend," Ezra interrupts smoothly. "Already handled. He said, and I quote, 'Whatever. Just don't bother me.'"
The casual cruelty of my father's words doesn't even hurt anymore. I'm too used to it.
But Killian's hands curl into fists. "He doesn't deserve you."
"We didn't deserve you either," Phoenix says quietly. "But we're going to try. Starting now."
"About that." I set down the fork. "This revenge plan you mentioned. I want details. What exactly are you offering?"
Dante's eyes gleam with approval. "Straight to business. Good. That's the mindset you'll need."
He pulls out his phone and starts scrolling. "We've already compiled a list of targets. Victoria, Trevor, the dozen other students who actively participated in your torture, and—" He pauses. "Your father."
My breath catches. "My father?"
"He's the root of everything," Ezra says, sitting across from me. "He sold you out, enabled your abuse, and from what we've found, there's evidence he's involved in some seriously illegal business. He's not just a bad father, Sera. He's a criminal."
"How do you know that?"
Phoenix grins. "Because I'm really good at hacking. And your dad? He's really bad at covering his tracks. Wire fraud, tax evasion, embezzlement—he's got more skeletons in his closet than a Halloween store."
My mind races. Could we actually take him down? Could I finally make him pay for years of abuse?
"But first," Dante continues, "we need to transform you."
"Transform me?" I repeat suspiciously.
"You're too vulnerable right now," Killian explains. "Anyone can see you're hurt, scared, broken. We need to rebuild you stronger."
"I'll teach you psychological warfare," Ezra offers. "How to read people, manipulate situations, destroy someone's reputation with just words."
"I'll teach you to fight," Killian adds. "Physical strength, self-defense, how to never be a victim again."
"I'll show you the underground world." Phoenix's eyes dance with excitement. "The information networks, the people who can get you anything, the skills to disappear or appear exactly when you want."
"And I'll teach you control," Dante finishes. "How to plan, strategize, and execute revenge so perfectly that no one sees it coming until it's too late."
It sounds impossible. It sounds dangerous.
It sounds exactly like what I need.
"When do we start?" I ask.
"Right now." Dante stands. "But first, you need to understand something. This won't be easy. We're going to push you hard. Training will hurt. Some days you'll want to quit."
"I tried to quit life last night," I remind him. "I think I can handle training."
Something flashes in his eyes—respect, maybe? "Then let's establish ground rules. Rule one: You live here for the next month."
"What? I can't—"
"Your father won't notice or care," Ezra interrupts. "And you're not safe at home anyway."
He's right, but it still feels overwhelming. Live with the boys who tormented me?
"Rule two," Killian continues. "You train with each of us every day. No excuses, no backing out."
"Rule three," Phoenix adds with a serious expression that looks foreign on his usually wild face. "You tell us if you're having those thoughts again. The bad ones. Promise, Sera."
The concern in his voice makes my throat tight. "I promise."
"Rule four," Dante says, his voice dropping low. "You trust us. I know that's asking a lot after everything, but this only works if you let us in."
"Trust you?" I laugh bitterly. "You made my life a living hell."
"Yes," he agrees simply. "And now we're trying to give you the tools to make everyone else's life hell instead. But you have to trust that we won't hurt you anymore."
I look at each of them. Dante with his cold control. Killian with his barely-contained violence. Ezra with his calculating intelligence. Phoenix with his chaotic energy.
They're dangerous. They're damaged. They've already proven they can destroy me.
But maybe that's exactly why they're perfect for this.
"Okay," I say finally. "I'll trust you. But if any of you betray me again—"
"We won't," all four say together.
The synchronization is almost funny. Almost.
"Get dressed," Dante orders, tossing me a bag. "We brought clothes from your house last night while you slept. Phoenix picked the lock."
"Of course you did," I mutter, taking the bag.
When I emerge from the bathroom fifteen minutes later in my own clothes, the boys are waiting. They've changed too—less polished, more dangerous. Like they're ready for war.
"First lesson," Dante announces. "We're going back to the roof."
My heart stops. "What? No. Absolutely not."
"You need to face it," Killian says firmly. "The place where you almost died needs to become just another place. We can't have you triggered every time you see it."
"I can't—"
"You can." Ezra's voice is surprisingly gentle. "And we'll be with you. Every step."
Phoenix holds out his hand. "Come on, angel. Time to take back your power from your demons."
The nickname—angel—should sound mocking. But from his lips, it sounds almost like something precious.
I take his hand. His fingers lock with mine, warm and steady.
We walk through the empty hallways together. It's early enough that most students are still sleeping off Friday night parties. The school feels like a ghost town.
When we reach the roof door, I freeze.
"I can't do this."
"Yes, you can," Dante says from behind me. "Because you're not the same girl who stood up here last night. That girl was alone. This girl has an army."
Killian opens the door. Cold morning air rushes in.
My legs won't move.
Then Ezra takes my other hand. Killian moves behind me, solid and grounding. Dante walks ahead, leading the way.
Together, we step onto the roof.
The morning sun makes everything look different—beautiful, even. Not like a place of death. Just... a roof.
"See?" Phoenix squeezes my hand. "Just a building."
But then I see it—the edge where I stood. The bottle that held the pills lying on its side. The exact spot where I wanted to end everything.
My breathing speeds up. Panic claws at my chest.
"Look at me." Dante's hands frame my face, forcing me to meet his dark eyes. "You survived. You're here. You're stronger than this."
"I don't feel strong," I whisper.
"Then borrow ours until you find your own." His thumb brushes my cheek. "That's what we're here for now."
Something shifts inside me. Some tiny piece of the broken girl starts to believe maybe—just maybe—I can become someone different.
Someone powerful.
Someone who doesn't just survive, but conquers.
"Okay," I breathe out. "Okay. I'm ready."
Dante smiles, and it transforms his entire face. "Good. Because your first real lesson starts now."
He steps back, and suddenly all four boys spread out, surrounding me in a circle.
"What are you doing?" I ask nervously.
"Teaching you that you're not prey anymore," Killian answers. "You're the predator."
"I don't understand—"
"Try to get past us," Dante challenges. "Use anything—speed, deception, force. Whatever works. But break through our circle."
"That's impossible. You're all bigger and stronger—"
"Which is exactly what every opponent will think," Ezra interrupts. "That you're small, weak, easy to break. Prove them wrong."
My heart pounds. This feels like a test. Like the moment that decides if I'm really capable of this transformation or if I'm still just the victim.
I study them. Four boys, four different fighting styles. Dante relies on control and strategy. Killian is pure strength. Ezra uses mind games. Phoenix is unpredictable chaos.
I need to be smarter than all of them.
So I do the one thing they won't expect.
I run straight at Dante—then drop to the ground at the last second, sliding between his legs like I'm stealing home base. Years of gym class dodging bullies finally pays off.
I pop up behind him and sprint for the door.
Almost there—
Killian catches me around the waist, lifting me off the ground. "Nice try."
But I remember every time he grabbed me in the hallway, every shove, every bruise. I know his grip.
I go completely limp, dead weight, and slip down through his arms like water. My elbow drives back into his stomach—not hard enough to hurt, but surprising enough that he releases me.
I run again.
This time Ezra blocks the door, arms crossed, smiling. "You're thinking like prey. Think like a predator."
He's right. I'm running away. Predators don't run.
I stop. Turn around. Face all four of them.
"I don't need to get past you," I say slowly, the realization hitting me. "I just need to make you move."
Understanding lights in Dante's eyes. "Good. How?"
I look up at the roof edge. At the place where I almost died.
And I walk toward it.
"Sera, don't—" Phoenix's voice is sharp with fear.
"What are you doing?" Killian demands.
I don't answer. Just keep walking toward the edge with steady steps.
"Stop!" Ezra's usual calm cracks. "This isn't funny!"
All four of them rush toward me, breaking their circle, panic clear on their faces.
I stop two feet from the edge and turn around, smiling for real this time.
"I made you move," I say simply. "I used your fear of losing me. That's a weapon too, right?"
The silence is deafening.
Then Dante starts laughing. Actually laughing. "She used our own guilt against us. In her first lesson."
"That's dark," Phoenix says, but he's grinning. "I'm impressed and terrified."
"You're going to be dangerous," Ezra observes, and he sounds proud.
Killian just shakes his head, smiling slightly. "You learn fast."
Pride swells in my chest—real pride, not the fake confidence I used to force. I actually did it. I outsmarted them.
"So I passed?" I ask.
"With flying colors," Dante confirms. He walks over and holds out his hand. "Welcome to the Dark Angels, Sera. We've been a four-person crew for years. But as of today? You're one of us."
I stare at his outstretched hand. Taking it means joining them. Becoming part of the group that terrorized me.
But it also means becoming powerful enough to never be terrorized again.
I grip his hand firmly. "Then let's burn the world down."
"Together," Phoenix adds, placing his hand over ours.
"Together," Killian agrees, adding his.
"Together," Ezra finishes, completing the circle.
Five hands stacked together on a rooftop where I tried to die.
The beginning of something dark, dangerous, and absolutely unstoppable.
But as we stand there, united for the first time, I don't see the roof door opening behind us.
I don't see Victoria and three of her friends with their phones out, recording everything.
I don't see the shocked, vicious smile spreading across Victoria's face as she captures what looks like me—the school's biggest victim—holding hands with the boys who destroyed me.
The video that's about to make my life even more complicated uploads to the school's social media before we even leave the roof.
By the time I check my phone ten minutes later, it's already gone viral.
The caption reads: "BREAKING: The Dark Angels' newest plaything? Guess Sera really will do ANYTHING for attention. Even fake a suicide attempt. Desperate Pathetic Attention Seeker"
And just like that, my hell starts all over again.
But this time?
This time I'm not facing it alone.