Beyond this world

Chapter 3 : Kenzie

Kenzie went to a boarding school called Richwood Academy—a place tucked so deep into the woods it felt like it was deliberately hiding from the rest of the world. The towering pines that surrounded it were thick and endless, the kind that swallowed sunlight and muffled sound. Mist curled through the trees almost every morning like the forest was breathing.

There was something… strange about it all. The air felt heavier here. The shadows seemed darker, the silence stretched longer. Sometimes, when she walked alone through the winding paths between the dorms and the main building, it felt like someone—or something—was watching. She always told herself it was just the wildlife. Or her imagination. Definitely her imagination.

Richwood Academy was built like an ancient manor, all gray stone and stained glass, with high-arched doorways and ivy that crept up the walls like claws. It had the kind of atmosphere that belonged in ghost stories. A place that always felt a few degrees too cold. A place where the floors creaked a little too often, even when no one was there.

It was prestigious. Exclusive. The kind of place parents bragged about getting their kids into. The students here came from money, from names that held power and history in this town. They wore their confidence like armor. They knew the rules. The secrets.

Kenzie didn’t.

She didn’t come from old money. She wasn’t connected or privileged. Most of the time, she felt like an outsider looking in. Just a normal girl trying to blend in with people who weren’t anything like her. She never quite fit, no matter how hard she tried.

A few months ago, she’d received an offer to attend Richwood Academy on a full scholarship because of her grades. At first, she hadn’t believed it. It seemed too good to be true. She even planned to decline it—until her mother convinced her otherwise.

“They’re giving you everything,” her mom had said, her voice soft with awe. “Tuition, books, a dorm. You’d be crazy not to go, sweetheart.”

Kenzie had relented eventually. The school offered courses her old school couldn’t dream of—advanced science labs, literature electives that covered everything from ancient mythology to modern horror, and a library that looked like something out of a Victorian novel.

But even now, a few months, she still didn’t understand why they wanted her so badly. They didn’t just offer her a spot—they pursued her. Emailed. Called. Pressed. As if her attendance mattered. As if she were more than just a smart girl from a poor family.

It was Tuesday.

The day after the attack.

And she was dreading it.

Everything had happened just yesterday. The incident hadn’t even been officially announced yet, and somehow, everyone already knew.

She hadn't left her dorm since it happened. April Montgomery—her roommate and best friend—had been the one to clue her in on the chaos that had already started brewing outside their door. Someone on the bus must’ve opened their mouth because now, apparently, everyone was talking about how Kenzie Blake had been attacked by a wolf—and survived.

She wasn’t sure what pissed her off more—the fact that people were gossiping about it like it was some dramatic soap opera moment, or the fact that none of them really cared what it felt like to be there. To hear Summer screaming. To be moments away from having teeth rip into your flesh.

Kenzie swallowed the bile rising in her throat and moved away from the mirror. Her bruises had mostly turned an ugly yellow-green color, but some were still fresh enough to throb when she moved too quickly.

She’d done her best to cover them. Black stockings to hide her legs. Her thick school jersey for her arms. Kenzie’s long, copper-red waves were left to cascade down her back, brushed smooth despite the ache in her muscles. There were still little scabs along her scalp from where she'd hit the ground. She looked at herself in the mirror, her green eyes scanning her reflection. They looked tired—haunted—but still sharp, still alive and in the fluorescent dorm light, she almost didn’t recognize the girl staring back.

She glanced at the clock.

7:30 a.m.

“Time to face the wolves,” she muttered.

April looked up from the vanity, mascara wand in hand. “You sure you’re okay to go in today?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

April frowned, clearly unconvinced. “You do have a choice. Screw school. Take another day.”

Kenzie shook her head. “That’ll just make the whispers worse. I’d rather get it over with.”

The walk from the girls’ dorms to the school building was peaceful—silent except for the occasional rustling of leaves in the distance. Mist curled around the trunks of trees like fingers, and the morning air smelled faintly of pine and something else. Something sharp. Like iron.

Kenzie didn’t mention it. She didn’t want April to worry more than she already was.

But as they approached the main gates, her steps slowed.

Richwood Academy loomed ahead, rising from the earth like a sleeping giant. Its stone walls, weathered and regal, were dressed in ivy and secrets. Towering spires pierced the sky, crowned in slate, and the tall arched windows looked like hollow eyes—watching. Waiting. Whispering tales of ancient power and hidden truths.

The inner courtyard looked like something out of a dream. Perfectly trimmed grass stretched in every direction, framed by carved columns and archways that belonged in a forgotten cathedral. Morning light streamed through them, casting long golden shadows that danced across the stone floor.

It was hauntingly beautiful.

Kenzie remembered what she’d thought the first time she saw it—that it felt like walking straight into a storybook. One written long before she was ever born.

And somehow, she was the wrong character inside it.

But the second they reached the school gates, that sense of quiet vanished. Whispers trailed behind her like shadows, slithering into her ears.

“…I heard her dad died the same way…”

“…how does someone get attacked by a wolf and walk away from it…”

“…she was there when Summer died…”

She clenched her jaw and kept walking.

She hated it.

Hated all of them.

Hated that they were treating her like some freak show.

When she first arrived at Richwood, it had been the same—just for different reasons. Her clothes were secondhand. Her accent a little too common. Her father was the town drunk. When he died, everyone pretended not to notice. But they whispered. They always whispered.

The only people who ever looked at her like she was a person were April, Jake, and Summer.

Sweet, vibrant Summer. The only one who could make her laugh when she felt like screaming.

Kenzie blinked hard. Not now. Don’t cry. Not here.

The halls were crowded, and her stomach churned as the whispers swelled.

She was just about to whirl around and tell them all to shut the hell up when she slammed into someone.

She staggered backward—but before she could fall, a pair of hands caught her by the waist.

Her fingers clutched the front of his blazer instinctively, and when she looked up—

Her fingers clutched the front of his blazer instinctively, and when she looked up—

Hunter Ross.

Richwood Academy’s golden boy. The most popular guy in school and the son of the headmaster.

She’d had a crush on him since day one—not just because he was gorgeous (though, that certainly didn’t hurt), but because of what he’d done for her. On her very first day at Richwood, a few upperclassmen had cornered her on the path to the dorms, laughing about her scholarship, her clothes, her “charity case” face.

Hunter had shown up out of nowhere—silent, sharp-eyed, and furious. She remembered the sound of his voice, low and dangerous, and the blur of movement as he sent two of them crashing into the dirt like they weighed nothing. He hadn’t even broken a sweat.

And gods, he’d looked like something from another world.

Golden eyes that glowed like wildfire, bronze skin that caught the fading sunlight like it was made to hold it. There was a scar on his cheek, faint but impossible to ignore—like a warning and a story all in one. His hair looked like it had been carelessly styled by his own hands—dark and tousled, the strands falling just over his brow in a way that made him look effortlessly dangerous. It framed his face perfectly, the shorter sides accentuating the sharp cut of his cheekbones and the quiet strength in his jaw. Kenzie couldn’t help but stare. There was something wild about it, like he belonged in a storm, not a school hallway. Like if she reached out to touch it, it would only add to the chaos already brewing inside her. And when he turned to her, asked if she was okay, she’d forgotten how to speak.

Then, without saying much more, he’d walked her to her dorm.

Protected her like it meant something.

After that, he always smiled when they passed in the halls. But they never spoke again—not since Rachel.

Hunter’s girlfriend. The queen of Richwood. Beautiful. Dangerous. And absolutely unhinged.

If a girl so much as looked at Hunter, Rachel would ruin her. Once, a poor girl made the mistake and smiled at him and Rachel humiliated her in front of the entire cafeteria.

Rachel was insane. And Hunter always tried to rein her in, but she never changed. If anything, she got worse.

His golden eyes sparkled with surprise. “Careful there, Kenz,” he said, his voice low and amused. “You okay?”

Kenzie’s cheeks flamed. “Yeah—yes. I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You sure you’re alright?” he asked, his expression shifting from amused to gentle. “I heard what happened yesterday. That was… intense.”

She hesitated. It wasn’t pity in his voice—it was concern. Real concern. And it made her chest ache a little.

“Yeah. Just… sore,” she said with a half-smile. “But alive. So I guess that’s something.”

Hunter nodded. “That’s more than something.” He looked as if he wanted to say more—but then—

“Well, well, well…”

Kenzie tensed.

She didn’t need to look who had spoken.

Rachel. Hunter’s psycho girlfriend. Right on cue.

“If it isn’t our little survivor,” Rachel sneered, flipping her perfectly styled blonde hair.

“Rachel,” Hunter warned.

She ignored him completely. As usual.

“If it isn’t our little survivor,” Rachel drawled, her voice dripping with mock sympathy.

“Rachel,” Hunter said sharply.

She ignored him.

“Just because you almost got eaten doesn’t mean you can throw yourself at my boyfriend.”

Kenzie’s jaw tightened. Throw herself? What the actual f**k?

“I wasn’t—”

“Save it.” Rachel stepped closer, latching onto Hunter’s arm like he was her property. “You think I don’t see the way you look at him? You think surviving makes you special?”

Kenzie rolled her eyes and turned to walk away. She didn’t have the time—or the strength—for this crap.

But Rachel’s hand shot out, gripping her arm.

“I’m not done talking to you,” she hissed.

Kenzie froze.

Everyone was watching.

And Hunter—he didn’t move.

He didn’t move.

Kenzie looked at him—and something in his face looked… trapped. Hesitant. Like he wanted to stop Rachel but couldn’t.

And that chilled her more than anything else.

She looked Rachel in the eye, her voice low and steady.

“Let go of my arm. Before I break your pretty little fingers. One. By. One.”

The words hung in the air like thunder.

Rachel blinked, stunned—and immediately dropped Kenzie's arm like it burned her.

The hallway had gone silent.

Kenzie didn’t wait for applause or reactions.

The bell rang.

Everyone began to scatter.

She glanced at Hunter one last time. He looked stunned. Like he’d just seen someone entirely different.

Maybe he had.

Kenzie walked to her first class, her steps quick and tight. Her heart pounded in her ears.

She felt like she should be proud—but all she felt was cold.

Cold… and watched.

She paused at the end of the hallway and glanced toward the forest visible through the courtyard windows.

There was something out there.

Something waiting.

And for the first time since the attack—

Kenzie didn’t just feel like a survivor.

She felt like prey.