Bella
"Ugh…" I hissed, forcing myself to sit up. I had fainted.
The last thing I remembered was everyone watching me like I was some rare bird, eyes wide, lips whispering, judgment thick in the air.
My gaze scanned the room I was in. It wasn't a hospital, thankfully, but it was definitely… fancy.
A dorm room, I guessed.
It was spacious for student housing, with dark wooden floors that gleamed under the soft glow of the vintage wall sconces. Two canopy beds stood on opposite ends of the room, dressed in deep burgundy sheets with gold embroidery.
A long antique desk sat between two tall windows draped in velvet, and everything smelled faintly of old books and lavender polish.
The kind of place you'd expect to see in a film about secret societies.
"Good, you're awake," said a girl emerging from the bathroom, steam trailing behind her like mist. Her hands were covered in intricate tattoos that crept up her arms like ivy. I couldn't help but stare. I didn't know Raventon allowed that.
Her sharp gaze followed mine to her inked skin, and she rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed.
"I hide them well," she muttered, bending over to grab something from the foot of her bed.
"I-I'm sorry," I stammered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear and quickly looking away.
"Yeah, me too, 'cause you're off to a bad start with the whole school," she replied, already walking toward her dresser with the same effortless confidence that seemed to coat everything she did.
"I'm sorry… I don't understand. What did I do to the whole school?" I asked, stretching my neck to get a better look at her face. But all I got was a view of her back and her very unapologetically raised middle finger as she rubbed something onto her cheeks.
"You fainted, that's what," she said, dabbing her face with a rose-scented cream. "In front of the entire welcoming committee, no less. And those vultures already think you're easy prey."
I blinked. "Vultures?"
She finally turned, her brows arched as if I'd asked the dumbest question in the world. Her face was striking, with sharp cheekbones, golden brown skin, almond eyes, and a lip ring that caught the light as she spoke.
"Yeah. The Upper Circle. The legacy brats, The Dominions, the ones who act like they own this place. News travels fast around here, princess. And you just handed them a story."
My brows furrowed as I climbed out of bed slowly, the floor cool against my feet. "What are you talking about?"
"Ugh, I hate newbies," she muttered to herself, loud enough for me to hear. Then she completely ignored every question I tried to ask after that.
Great. My roommate for the rest of the semester was an emo bitch. What a pleasant surprise.
She eventually left the room without another word, leaving me to unpack alone. The only thing she'd bothered to do was toss my schedule on the bed, like it physically hurt her to be helpful.
I had just thirty minutes to unpack and get ready for my first class.
Yeah. Lectures. On the same day I arrived. Raventon didn't care if new students were jet-lagged or borderline dead. Luckily, I'd passed out for what must've been hours after my humiliating performance in front of the so-called welcoming committee. I still had no idea how I got to the dorm.
Classic me, faint first, ask questions later.
I quickly changed my fit, hoping to blend in and not be recognized as the girl who fainted like she saw a ghost. It probably wouldn't work, but still… effort.
Finding my class was surprisingly easy. The hallways were lined with sleek digital panels, AI assistants that responded when tapped. One blinked to life the moment I stepped out of the dorm and guided me to my lecture hall with mechanical cheer.
Unfortunately, asking for AI help meant instant newbie alert.
While everyone else glided through the corridors like they were born here, I stood awkwardly, chatting with a stick figure on a screen.
Yep. Sore thumb energy.
After an awkward elevator ride, I finally reached my class's hallway. Out of sheer habit, I thanked the AI for its help, because apparently, I still had manners.
Big mistake.
I caught a glimpse of a group of girls nearby, stifling laughs as they looked in my direction.
Yeah… they were headed the same way.
Great. Classmates.
Fists clenched at my sides, I walked into the classroom, bracing myself to see a lecturer already in session. But nope, I wasn't late.
Unfortunately, that didn't mean I was lucky.
Because the moment I stepped in, all eyes turned to me.
And not in a "wow, new student!" way.
More like "ew, who let the peasant in?"
Their gazes were sharp, cold, and dripping with the kind of judgment that made me want to shrink into myself. I tried to walk normally, casually, even though my feet suddenly felt like concrete blocks.
I scanned for a seat in the back, but every spot was occupied. And not just occupied but guarded. Like their owners had claimed them with blood oaths and resting bitch faces.
The only free seat?
Smack in the middle row.
They escorted me with their eyes as I walked down the aisle. Every step felt like a public execution.
I finally sat, cheeks burning, heart thumping like a damn drumline, and that's when I realized why they had been staring at me like I had two heads.
I wasn't dressed in the school uniform.
Shit.
What was I thinking?
Oh wait—I wasn't.
I literally just got here today.
Now I wanted the earth to split in half and swallow me whole. I was so embarrassed, I knew I looked beetroot red. But that wasn't even the worst thing that happened.
Not by a long shot.
Even though, at the time, I didn't realize how bad it really was.
A girl in a very short version of the school skirt sauntered toward me, hips swinging like she was trying to seduce me or something.
I fought the urge to raise a brow.
And then she did something I wasn't expecting.
She slapped something onto my forehead.
Slapped.
Something cold and slightly sticky. A weird symbol of some sort. Her red lips curled into a smirk as she leaned in, way too close for comfort.
"You're marked now," she purred, her voice full of cruel delight.