Zara's POV
If there was one thing I learned fast about Blackwood Academy, it was that no class ever felt… normal.
Sure, we sat at desks and pretended to take notes. Sure, there were textbooks — though half of mine were already battered, their pages filled with diagrams of spells and creatures I barely understood.
But the energy in the room? It's like sitting on a live wire.
This morning was no different.
I walked into Enchanted Histories, already bracing myself. The classroom was massive, high ceilings with beams so ancient they looked like they might crumble at any second. Tall windows let in slants of weak morning light, casting long shadows across the stone floor.
And, of course, he was there. Atlas King.
Slouched in his chair at the back of the room like he owned
