Zara pov
It had been three weeks since I stepped into Saint Monarch, and honestly?
I'd expected worse.
Maybe it was because my standards for "bad" were permanently lowered. Maybe because the first week was hell—crowds, noise, the constant pressure of being observed. But after that? The days fell into a pattern I could live with.
Classes, assignments, naps I failed to take, insomnia-filled nights.
Silence.
Routine.
Predictability.
Things I could breathe inside.
I got attention here—stares, whispers, people asking Isa who the new girl was.
Apparently because she was friends with the "Kings."
Whoever the hell they were. White-people-and-their-college-hierarchy behavior. I didn't ask; I didn't care.
As long as no harm came to me, I was good.
And surprisingly… I'd been comfortable here.
Isa didn't talk my ear off; she only talked when she needed someone to listen.
Juniper was sweet in a soft, inconsistent way—quiet around others, louder around Isa.
I noticed their dynamic more than I should have. Isa always adjusting, always bending herself into shapes Juniper needed.
Maybe that's why she gravitated to me.
Because I didn't require her to twist into anything.
And then… there was Elio.
My unexpected peace.
The only person I talked to without my throat tightening.
The only person I laughed with without feeling guilty for it.
He listened the way people rarely do—with stillness, with attention.
And God, the warmth that gave me… I wasn't used to it.
I looked forward to two things every day:
Listening to Isa, because it felt like I was helping someone be heard.
Meeting Elio, because… because he made the world feel less sharp.
Elio had been walking me home almost every night since the insomnia got worse.
He noticed. I could tell he noticed.
And he kept asking, gently, what kept me awake.
I always changed the subject.
Because if Elio noticed… my mother definitely would.
And she didn't need more reasons to worry—not about nightmares, not about shadows that didn't stay in the past.
Tonight was supposed to be another harmless visit to the boxing ring.
Me:you up?
Elio:always. heading to the ring?
Me:yes, you don't have to if you're busy. I just figured I should let you know.
Elio:nonsense. I'll wait outside your dorm.
He really said it like it wasn't a big deal. Like rearranging his plans just to escort me was normal. In my world, it wasn't.
I changed into my gym leggings and tied my hair up—but froze when I saw Isa sitting up in her bed.
Shit.
They were always asleep by now, or out. Why was she awake?
I tried tiptoeing toward the door—
But then my phone pinged.
Elio:I'm here.
Isa lifted her head.
"Zara?"
Damn it. No escape.
"Hi," I whispered, moving quickly and dropping my bag behind the couch.
Me:be out soon.
I turned to Isa.
She looked… off.
Sad. Anxious. Like something small was weighing her down but she didn't know how to carry it.
"So why are you up?" I asked. "Looking like something's chewing at you."
She blinked fast. "Uh—nothing's wrong. I just… couldn't sleep."
"Mhm. And I'm blonde."
To my surprise, she snorted.
"It's fine if you don't want to talk," I said softly. "Just… don't sit in your own head for too long. It gets loud in there."
I stepped away before she could answer, mentally promising myself I'd check on her later.
Me:where are you?
Elio:just get out here.
Rude.
But I smiled anyway.
When I stepped outside, I saw him leaning casually against a ridiculously white, ridiculously shiny GLE.
My jaw dropped.
"Ohhhhhhhh! I likeyyyyyy," I practically sang.
"You told me to get something not black," he said with a straight face. "So I got this. For you."
"Wait—for me in what way?"
"I don't like white."
He shrugged.
"You like white. So now I have you as my second color."
I grinned so hard my cheeks hurt.
"My little baby E," I teased, walking up to hug him. "You know you love me."
He didn't push me off.
Another win.
We didn't go to the gym.
We went to watch a movie, then ate noodles on a street corner like two teenagers sneaking out after curfew. It was easy. Too easy. And when we were about to head home, Elio got a text.
His face changed.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"Nothing. I just need to pass somewhere."
"We can go together," I offered. "If you don't want me inside… I'll wait in the car."
He hesitated.
But eventually nodded.
He told me to move to the passenger side.
Fine.
We drove to a busy street, loud music spilling from the doorway of what looked like a pub. He told me to wait five minutes.
I agreed.
I didn't plan to go inside.
There were too many men.
Too much noise.
Too much… unpredictability.
So I stayed.
Read seven chapters of my novel.
Checked the time.
3:26 a.m.
That was NOT five minutes.
My stomach tightened.
Fear whispered things I didn't want to hear.
I ignored it and stepped out of the car.
Inside, the air was thick—beer, sweat, perfume, smoke.
The moment I walked in, eyes locked onto me like I was a spotlight.
I almost turned around.
Almost.
But I pushed forward.
It took a while, but then I spotted him—Elio—sitting in a booth with four guys. His shoulders were tense, jaw clenched, expression unreadable.
He looked… dangerous.
And I had never seen him like that.
My eyes scanned the others.
One with long braids and a sharp smile.
One with tattoos up his neck.
One with a crooked grin and restless fingers—
And then—
My heart stopped.
My blood froze.
My body moved back before my brain could think.
He turned.
And our eyes locked.
Soren.
Tall. Sharp. Familiar in the worst way. Shadow carved into a man.
Someone I never thought I'd see again.
Someone whose silhouette had haunted the darkest corners of my nightmares.
He looked shocked for half a second—
Then he smirked.
A cold wave washed over me.
My fists curled.
My breath stuttered.
The room swayed.
Voices blurred.
I needed to leave.
I needed to get out.
He was here.
Soren was here.