Saint Lucian University looked like it belonged in a gothic fairy tale—except this story didn't have princes or castles. It had shadows that watched you when you weren't looking and halls that whispered secrets through stone walls.
The campus buildings towered like monuments, carved in ancient grey stone and stained glass that glittered blood-red when the sun hit it just right. Everything here was too big, too clean, too perfect.
Alina Valez felt like a stain.
She stood at the edge of the courtyard with her backpack clutched to her chest, her fingers trembling around the frayed strap. Around her, students moved in waves of expensive perfume and effortless laughter. Girls with designer coats and thigh-high boots. Guys with arrogance in every step and Rolexes flashing from their wrists.
Alina's coat was from a thrift store. Her boots had been glued twice at the sole. Her throat ached with silence.
She didn't belong here. Not with these people. Not in this place.
But she was here.
She had no choice but to survive it.
---
First Day
Her schedule crumpled in her damp fingers as she tried to find the psychology building. The map in her welcome packet may as well have been written in a foreign language. She wandered aimlessly through the archways and halls, trying not to look lost—even though she was.
The walls buzzed with low laughter, flirtation, and tension. Everyone seemed to already know each other. Friend groups formed like armor. Whispers curled through the air, too fast for her to catch, but she could feel them.
And every so often… she felt eyes on her.
Not casual glances.
Weight.
Like a predator assessing something fragile.
She ignored it. Or tried to.
Until the feeling became too sharp to dismiss.
---
The Eyes
She was walking through the east hallway, the one lined with red marble floors and arched windows, when the sensation hit her again—hot and slicing, like a beam of light burning into her from behind.
Her body stiffened.
She didn't turn around at first. Just paused by a row of lockers and glanced sideways.
Someone was watching her.
Not just watching. Devouring.
She couldn't see who. The hallway curved, and the crowd was thick with students moving between classes. But she felt it. The heat of attention crawling up the back of her neck like fingers.
She clutched her books tighter and turned a sharp corner toward her next class—
—and crashed straight into a wall.
Or, at least, that's what it felt like.
But it wasn't a wall.
It was a man.
---
Him
She stumbled backward, books flying, breath choking in her throat.
He didn't move.
He just stood there, towering over her like a statue sculpted from shadow and violence.
Black dress pants. Black shirt, open at the collar. Broad shoulders. Cold, controlled stillness.
Alina scrambled to her knees, flushed and humiliated, muttering, "I—I'm sorry, I didn't see—"
Then she looked up.
And froze.
His eyes were black ice.
And they were raking her from head to toe with slow, deliberate cruelty. Like he was undressing her without touching her. Like he wanted her to feel naked on the floor.
She couldn't move.
His gaze dipped slowly—very slowly—down the line of her throat, to her chest, to her legs.
She realized, too late, that her skirt had hiked up when she fell. Her thighs were parted slightly as she knelt. And his eyes stopped right there.
Heat flooded her face.
She reached to tug her skirt down, her fingers trembling, breath locked in her chest.
Then he spoke.
A voice like ash and smoke.
> "Next time," he said softly, "watch where you're going, little girl."
Not angry.
Not amused.
Possessive.
Her eyes flew to his face again, but he was already turning.
He walked past her without another word. Without offering a hand. Without even glancing back.
But his final words floated behind him like a thread of steel:
> "You don't want to be on your knees around here. Not unless you're ready to pay for it."
And then he was gone.
Swallowed by the hallway. By the shadows.
By the Order.
---
Aftermath
Alina sat frozen on the floor, surrounded by her spilled books, heart slamming like a trapped bird inside her ribs.
She had no idea who he was.
No name.
No reason for that kind of look. That kind of voice. That threat.
But something inside her whispered the truth anyway.
That man was dangerous.
And this school wasn't just expensive or elite.
It was something else.
And she'd just caught the attention of someone who could ruin her.