Raven's POV:
I was too flustered. Too dizzy from the lingering alpha pressure still hanging in the air. My legs were shaky beneath me, and my thoughts were scattered. I just needed to get to the Delta office. It was the only place where I might get some relief, where I could escape from all of this. But of course, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going.
And then it happened again.
I bumped into him.
A cold, hard wall of muscle.
No—not a wall.
A person.
A very tall person. A person who smelled like ice and danger. A person whose mere presence sent a chill through my body that made me shiver involuntarily.
I looked up, dizzy and disoriented, and there he was—Lucian Blackhart.
The same Lucian Blackhart who had bumped into me when I first arrived, sending the entire school into a frenzy and ensuring that every student here now avoided me like the plague. Apparently, I had bad blood, a history they all believed was something to fear. I'd upset their "king," their twisted, deranged alpha leader, and no one wanted to be near me because of it.
And now, there he was, standing directly in front of me, his white shirt stained with my blood.
Great. Just great.
His eyes darkened as they landed on the blood now soaking into the fabric of his shirt. His jaw clenched in a way that made my heart skip a beat. I could almost feel the air around him change—it grew colder, sharper, like I was suddenly standing in the middle of a blizzard. The pressure hit me with the force of a mountain, and I could barely breathe beneath it.
I wanted to shrink away, to vanish, to be anywhere but here. But my body was betraying me, trembling in place as I stood before him. I hated how weak I felt, how small I probably looked in his eyes. A pathetic little omega who couldn't even control something as simple as a nosebleed.
And then, his gaze—his cold gaze—met mine. He didn't just look at me; it was as if he was examining something beneath him. Like I wasn't even worthy of his full attention.
I wanted to speak, to apologize, to say something that might make this moment a little less unbearable. But nothing came out. I couldn't breathe, couldn't form a coherent thought.
"What the hell is this?" Lucian's voice came out low and dangerous, his words like an icy blade slicing through the air.
He took a step closer, his towering height pushing down on me, and I instinctively took a small step back. But that didn't help. It didn't matter. The moment I felt his presence, it was like my legs were made of jelly, and all I could do was stand there, shivering.
"I didn't mean—" I tried to explain, my voice barely above a whisper. But as soon as the words left my mouth, my throat closed up, and I couldn't finish the sentence.
Lucian wasn't having it.
"You're pathetic." His words were cold and cutting, sharper than any knife. "This is what happens when you don't know how to control your own mess."
I flinched, the sound of his voice sending a sharp jolt through me. It was like his words weren't just cruel—they were designed to cut me down, to remind me of my place. And in that moment, I realized that there was no escape. I wasn't just a failure in my own eyes. To him, I was less than that. I was nothing.
Tears welled in my eyes, hot and stinging, but I refused to let them fall. I hated myself enough already. I couldn't show him how much his words hurt. But it was impossible to ignore the gut-wrenching feeling that twisted inside me.
My heart pounded painfully against my ribs as his icy gaze pinned me to the spot, suffocating me, paralyzing me. My knees wobbled, and I instinctively shrank back, as if trying to disappear into the wall behind me.
We were the only ones in the hall now. No students, no teachers, no one.
Just him. And me.
Lucian took another step toward me, his boots clicking against the floor like the countdown of an execution. He was so close now that I could feel the heat of his body even though his aura was freezing, sending waves of cold through me. He leaned down, his face coming so close to mine that I could smell the faint scent of mint and something sharp, like steel.
"You've ruined my shirt, Blackwood." Lucian's voice dropped even lower, his tone dripping with disdain. "With your filthy blood."
I could feel the anger radiating off of him, like the tension in the air before a storm. His nostrils flared slightly, and his lip curled in disgust as he looked at the bloodstains on his shirt.
I wanted to disappear, to shrink away into nothing. I wanted to apologize again, but I couldn't. What could I say? Nothing would change this moment, this crushing reality.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled, my voice weak, barely audible.
Lucian's gaze flickered down to me, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something else in his eyes—something colder, more calculated than just anger. But it disappeared so quickly, I wasn't sure if I imagined it.
"Sorry doesn't fix anything, Blackwood." His voice was almost mocking now, as though he found my apology amusing. "You think you're sorry? You think that's enough?"
The air around us felt like it was closing in on me, pushing me back against the wall, suffocating me in his presence. I could feel my heart racing faster, my hands shaking. I wanted to scream, but nothing came out.
What did he want from me? What did anyone want from me?
I was nothing. I was just a girl lost in a world of alphas, where my omega status was the ultimate shame.
Lucian stared at me for another long moment, his gaze unreadable, before he straightened up, stepping back just enough to put a little space between us.