Silver Ridge Academy

Chapter 3: The First Session

POV: Lyra

​I didn't even think about the rules or the hierarchy when I saw Ren hit the floor, I just dropped to my knees beside him and tried to reach for his shoulder, but he scrambled backward like I was holding a knife, his breathing coming in short, wet gasps that made my own chest tighten. The silver light under his skin was fading back into a dull, bruised purple, and he fumbled with his buttons, forcing his fingers to close the gap of his shirt until the mark was hidden again.

​"I told you to stay back, didn't I?" he snapped, though the effect was ruined by the way his voice cracked and his hands continued to shake against his chest.

​"You literally just collapsed, Ren, so don't act like I’m the problem here," I said, staying on the floor and pointing at the small, leather-bound book that had slid toward the bookshelf. "What is that, and why are your veins turning silver, because that doesn't look like any illness I’ve ever heard of?"

​"It’s none of your business, and if you want to keep that scholarship and your mother’s job, you’ll forget you saw anything at all," he replied, finally finding enough strength to pull himself back into the chair, though he looked like he might throw up at any second.

​"I can't exactly forget something that looks like it's killing you, but fine, if you want to die while failing history, that’s your choice," I said, reaching over to pick up my bag and pulling out the study guides I had prepared, trying to act like my heart wasn't hammering against my ribs. "Are we going to study or are you just going to stare at me until the sun comes up, because I have a lot of work to do and you're already behind on three chapters?"

​Ren glared at me, his eyes flickering between gold and brown before settling into a deep, frustrated amber. "You’ve got a lot of nerve for someone who spends her mornings cleaning up my sweat, Lyra."

​"And you’ve got a lot of nerve failing a class that a middle-schooler could pass, so I guess we’re even, now open the book to page eighty-four and tell me what you know about the Great Partition," I countered, pushing the textbook toward him and refusing to look away when he tried to intimidate me with that heavy, Alpha stare.

​"I don't need to know about history because I'm the one who's going to be making it," he muttered, but he actually opened the book, his movements slow and deliberate as if he was still testing his own strength.

​"You won't be making anything if you're kicked out of the academy, so just read the paragraph and explain the cause of the conflict, and don't try to skip lines because I’ve already highlighted the parts you’re going to struggle with," I told him, leaning forward and tapping the page.

​We sat there for nearly an hour in a tense, uncomfortable silence that was only broken by the sound of pages turning and Ren’s occasional grunts of frustration when he couldn't remember a date or a name, but for a moment, the hostility seemed to simmer down into something else. He asked a question about the economic impact of the war that was actually intelligent, and when I explained it, he looked at me with a weird sort of curiosity, like he was seeing a person instead of just a servant for the very first time.

​"Why do you care so much about these grades, anyway?" he asked suddenly, leaning back and watching me instead of the book. "Even if you're the smartest girl in school, you're still just going to be working for families like mine when you graduate, so what's the point of all the stress?"

​"The point is that I don't want to be like my mother, stuck cleaning up after people who don't even know her last name, and if I get this degree, I can move to the city and find a job where my bloodline doesn't matter," I said, and for a second, his expression softened into something almost gentle, and he opened his mouth to say something that didn't sound like an insult.

​But before he could speak, the library doors swung open with a loud bang, and the sound of laughter spilled into the room as a group of Ren’s friends, including Calla, walked in with drinks in their hands and arrogant smirks on their faces.

​"Look at this, the prince is actually studying with the help," one of the guys shouted, walking over and leaning over Ren’s shoulder to look at the notes I had written. "Is she teaching you how to read, Ren, or is she just showing you how to polish the furniture?"

​Ren’s face went stone-cold instantly, and that brief moment of connection vanished as he slammed his textbook shut and shoved it off the table, sending my carefully organized notes flying across the floor. "I was just showing her how many mistakes she made in these guides, because apparently being a scholarship student doesn't mean you actually know how to spell."

​"I thought she looked a little too comfortable sitting at this table," Calla said, walking over and deliberately stepping on one of my papers with her heel. "Maybe you should remind her where she belongs, baby, before she starts thinking she’s actually your equal."

​Ren stood up and looked at me with a sneer that felt like a physical blow, his voice loud and cruel for the benefit of his audience. "Go get us some drinks from the kitchen, Lyra, and make sure the ice isn't melted this time, or I'll tell my father you're being lazy on the clock."

​"But we're supposed to be finishing the chapter," I whispered, my face burning with humiliation as his friends laughed at me.

​"I said get the drinks, and take your trash with you," he snapped, kicking my bag toward the door while his friends cheered him on, but as I bent down to grab my things, I saw his hand hidden under the table, and he was gripping the wood so hard his claws were starting to dig into the grain while his eyes stayed fixed on the silver book still hidden under his chair.

​I scrambled to gather my papers and ran toward the kitchen, my chest heaving with anger and shame, but as I passed through the servant's hallway, I heard a voice whisper my name from the shadows. I stopped and saw Leo standing there, his arms crossed and a dark look on his face as he stared toward the library.

​"He's getting worse, isn't he?" Leo asked, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

​"I don't know what you're talking about, I just need to get the drinks," I said, trying to push past him.

​"You saw the silver, Lyra, don't lie to me," he said, grabbing my wrist and pulling me closer until I could see the reflection of the hallway light in his eyes. "If you want to save yourself and your mother, you need to find that book he was hiding, because it's the only thing that explains why the Alpha's son is rotting from the inside out.”