Windsor's POV
The towering gates of Apex Vanguard Academy loomed before me like something out of a fairy tale. Ornate iron twisted into intricate patterns, each curve deliberate and expensive. Beyond them, I could see manicured lawns that probably cost more to maintain than most people made in a year.
I shifted my duffel bag higher on my shoulder. It contained everything I owned now. A few changes of clothes, basic toiletries, and the small amount of money I'd managed to save from odd jobs around the pack. Not much to start a new life with, but it would have to be enough.
The morning air was crisp against my skin as I approached the entrance. Students were already filtering through, their designer luggage wheeled behind them by what I assumed were hired help. I watched a girl my age step out of a sleek black car, her outfit probably worth more than my family's monthly grocery budget.
This was my world now. A world where I clearly didn't belong.
I took a deep breath and walked forward. The security checkpoint was manned by a stoic guard who barely glanced at me as I approached.
"Name and identification," he said in a bored voice.
"Windsor Wade."
He gestured toward a sleek scanner mounted on the wall. "Iris scan, please."
I stepped forward and let the red light sweep across my eye. For a terrifying moment, I wondered if this was all a mistake. If somehow my acceptance had been an error and I'd be turned away at the gates.
The scanner beeped green.
"Welcome to Apex Vanguard Academy, Miss Wade," the guard said, pressing a button that caused the massive gates to swing open with barely a whisper of sound.
I walked through, my heart pounding with each step. Students moved around me in clusters, their conversations filled with references to places I'd never been and people I'd never meet. I pulled out the campus map I'd been sent, trying to orient myself in this sprawling maze of privilege.
"Excuse me, miss."
I looked up to find myself face-to-face with the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. Tall and broad-shouldered, with golden hair that caught the morning sunlight and eyes the color of summer sky. He was exactly the kind of gorgeous that made girls lose their ability to speak.
Unfortunately, he was also walking directly toward me without any intention of stopping.
I tried to step aside, but I was too slow. He barreled into me with enough force to send me stumbling backward. My duffel bag hit the ground, spilling some of its contents onto the pristine walkway.
"Oh!" I gasped, more from surprise than pain.
The man stopped and looked down at me, his beautiful face marred by an expression of mild annoyance. As if I had inconvenienced him by existing in his path.
"Watch where you're going," he said, his voice carrying the lazy drawl of someone who'd never been told no.
I blinked up at him, still processing what had just happened. "Excuse me?"
Two girls appeared at his sides, clinging to his arms like ornaments. They were both stunning in that effortless way that came from good genetics and expensive treatments.
"Are you okay, Logan?" one of them purred, running her manicured fingers along his arm.
So his name was Logan. And apparently, my existence was barely worth acknowledging.
I scrambled to collect my scattered belongings, my cheeks burning with embarrassment and anger. "You knocked me over," I said, looking up at him.
Logan tilted his head, studying me like I was a particularly interesting insect. "Did I?"
"Yes, you did. The least you could do is apologize."
One of his companions let out a tinkling laugh. "How cute. She wants an apology."
"From Logan Havenbrook," the other added, as if his name should mean something to me.
I stood, clutching my bag tightly. My legs were shaking, but I wasn't sure if it was from the fall or from pure rage. "I don't care what your name is. You knocked me down and you should apologize."
Logan's lips curved into a slow, predatory smile. "Should I?"
"Yes."
"And if I don't?"
I opened my mouth, then closed it. What exactly was I going to do? Challenge him to a fight? Report him to someone? I was nobody here. He was clearly somebody important enough to have people hanging on his every word.
But I was done being treated like I didn't matter.
"Then you're an ass," I said clearly.
His companions gasped. A few other students nearby stopped their conversations to stare. Apparently, nobody talked to Logan Havenbrook like that.
For a moment, I thought he might actually get angry. His blue eyes flashed with something that could have been surprise or fury.
Then he laughed. A rich, genuine sound that seemed to catch him off guard as much as it did me.
"You know what?" he said, still chuckling. "You might actually survive here."
Before I could ask what that meant, he was walking away, his entourage trailing behind him. I heard one of the girls whisper something about "that poor little nobody" as they disappeared into the crowd.
I stood there for a moment, my heart still racing from the confrontation. Then I forced myself to keep moving. I had more important things to worry about than one arrogant pretty boy.
I consulted my map again, trying to find my bearings. According to the layout, the Apex Mansions were located in the center of campus. Prime real estate for the children of the most powerful families. I found myself walking in that direction, partly out of curiosity and partly because it was on the way to my destination.
The mansions were even more impressive up close. Three-story buildings with their own gardens and what looked like private parking areas. I spotted the faction mansions, knowing my brother Miguel would be staying in one of them.
A bitter taste filled my mouth. While he lived in luxury, I'd been assigned to Hades Dorm, located on the far edge of campus. The building reserved for students without family connections or significant financial backing. The outcasts and the unwanted.
I was so lost in my bitter thoughts that I didn't notice the person walking toward me until it was too late.
I walked directly into what felt like a brick wall.
Strong hands caught my arms, steadying me before I could fall. I looked up, an apology already forming on my lips, and found myself staring into the most striking gray eyes I'd ever seen.
This man was nothing like Logan. Where Logan was golden and loud, this stranger was dark and quiet. His hair was a rich brown that looked like it would be soft to touch, and his face was all sharp angles and strong lines. He was tall, powerfully built, with the kind of presence that made everything around him seem smaller.
But it was his eyes that made my breath catch. They were the color of storm clouds, and just as turbulent. For a moment, we stood frozen like that, his hands still on my arms, our faces closer than they should have been.
I felt heat creep up my neck. "I'm sorry, I wasn't watching where I—"
He released me abruptly and stepped back. Without a word, without even acknowledging my apology, he walked away.
I stood there, speechless, watching his retreating figure disappear into the crowd of students. My arms still tingled where he'd touched me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something significant had just happened.
Even though he'd said nothing at all.