The dorm room smelled faintly of fresh paint and old books. It wasn't one of the cramped quarters most students complained about — this one was bigger, spacious in a way that spoke of special arrangements. Two beds stood at opposite sides with carved headboards, two desks facing each other with wide drawers, and tall wardrobes polished to a sheen. A gothic arch window stretched wider than most, spilling gray light across the black-and-white tiled floor.
Xavier dropped his bag onto his bed and flopped back with a groan. "Feels like I never left. Same walls, same creaky floorboard." He kicked the bedpost and smirked. "The only difference is you."
Justin stood by the window, his hands in his pockets, eyes sweeping over the room. His white suit was immaculate even after the day's ceremony. The only flash of Nevermore compliance was the silver crest pin gleaming at his tie.
"Bigger than I expected," Justin said calmly.
Xavier chuckled. "That's because you got lucky. This is one of the good rooms. Perks of being you, I guess."
Justin's lips tugged faintly upward. "Or perks of being yours."
Xavier grinned. "Fair. But don't get too comfortable — you still have to share the bathroom."
Justin adjusted his glasses, gaze drifting back to the window. "For now."
—
Classes began the next morning, and the whispers hadn't stopped.
In Botany, Justin sat at the back while Thornhill introduced herself to the class. She smiled warmly, green cardigan draped perfectly, voice honey-smooth.
"Welcome, Nightshade darlings, to the wonderful world of flora. Here we don't just learn about plants — we learn how to listen to them."
Her gaze swept the room, but lingered on Justin longer than anyone else. When she leaned over her desk to adjust her notes, the neckline of her blouse dipped just a fraction too low. Her cardigan slid slightly off her shoulder as she wrote on the chalkboard, baring the pale line of her collarbone.
Most students didn't notice. But Justin did.
Her smile seemed aimed more at him than the class as a whole. When she leaned closer to answer a question near his row, her perfume reached him — jasmine with something darker beneath. Her voice softened when she said his name, her body angling just slightly so the line of her cleavage was visible if he glanced down.
It was subtle. Innocent to anyone else. But intentional.
Justin adjusted his glasses, meeting her gaze without flinching. His abyssal eyes flickered faint white fire, and for just a heartbeat, Thornhill froze under the weight of his stare.
Her pulse kicked in her throat. She quickly looked away, forcing brightness back into her voice. "Now then — who can tell me what the Belladonna plant symbolizes?"
Justin leaned back, silent. He'd seen that look before. Worship mixed with hunger.
And then he heard it.
Mammon's voice curled like smoke in the back of his skull.
"Demons know how to entice… kings know how to subdue. Control her. Bend her to your will like a plaything."
Justin's jaw tightened. He forced his gaze away, staring at the chalkboard instead of her.
Not yours, he thought back. Not this time.
Mammon's laughter slithered through his mind, delighted.
"You resist me now. But temptation always wins, boy. Always."
Justin's hand twitched once against his desk, resisting the urge to snap. He closed his eyes briefly, steadying his breath, before opening them again.
Enid was watching him from two rows ahead, bright blue eyes wide, her pen frozen mid-note. For just a moment, the Imprint bond between them pulsed like a lifeline, pulling him back from the edge.
Justin smirked faintly, just enough for her to see. Then he leaned back, calm once more.
This class was going to be trouble.
—
In Fencing class, Bianca Barclay stepped forward first, blade gleaming. She eyed Justin like a hawk sizing up prey.
"You," she said, pointing the tip of her rapier at him. "Show us if the rumors are real."
Gasps and whispers rippled through the students.
Justin rose calmly, unbuttoning his jacket. His voice was even. "I don't fence."
Bianca smirked, circling. "Afraid you'll lose?"
"Afraid I'll break you."
The crowd murmured louder, half laughter, half awe. Weems, watching from the sidelines, pressed her lips together but didn't interfere.
Bianca's smirk sharpened. "Guess I'll have to test that someday." She lowered her blade, but her eyes never left him.
—
In Divination, Rowan's hand shook as he sketched runes across his desk. His eyes darted to Justin, then down again. Yoko leaned back lazily, sipping from her blood thermos, and muttered just loud enough for him to hear: "You really do glow in the dark, don't you?"
Justin didn't answer. He didn't have to. His presence was answer enough.
—
That night, back in the dorm, Xavier tossed a sketchpad onto Justin's desk. The pages were filled with sharp charcoal lines — twisted towers, swirling shadows, a pale figure with fire-ringed eyes.
"You've already made the rounds," Xavier said. "Bianca's sniffing around. Enid can't stop staring. Even Yoko thinks you're a flashlight."
Justin flipped through the pages without comment, then set the sketchpad aside. "And you?"
Xavier shrugged, smirking. "I'm just glad my roommate isn't boring."
Justin sat back, removing his glasses for a moment. His abyssal eyes glowed faintly in the dorm's dim light. "They'll get used to me."
Xavier chuckled. "Or they won't. Either way, this year's going to be fun."
Justin leaned back against the headboard, eyes narrowing faintly. In the back of his mind, Mammon's whisper echoed again, smug and endless.
"What is mine will always be mine."
Justin closed his eyes, pushing the voice away. But he could still feel Enid's gaze from across the classroom earlier that day — warm, curious, pulling at him in a way even Mammon couldn't touch.
For the first time since arriving, he let himself smirk.
Maybe Xavier was right. This year was going to be interesting.