CHAPTER 3: THE PROBLEM WITH CURIOSITY
2024 Words
At Obsidian Dominion, weakness was hunted.
Not exposed.
Not corrected.
Hunted.
The academy had been built by families powerful enough to turn violence into legacy, and every student walking its halls understood one rule above all others:
Never let people know what affects you.
Which was exactly why Eleria Veyron was furious with herself.
Because something was affecting her.
And worse—
it had dark eyes, a calm voice, and the last name Draven.
The thought alone irritated her enough to tighten her grip around the silver dagger resting against her thigh.
She stood alone on the eastern balcony overlooking the academy grounds while cold night air swept through the black silk of her dress. Below, the city lights stretched endlessly beyond the mountains surrounding Obsidian Dominion, glowing like distant fire beneath the dark sky.
Most students were gathered in the lower halls tonight.
Another celebration.
Another excuse for heirs to flirt, threaten each other, and disguise manipulation as networking.
Eleria had no interest in attending.
Not after the combat match earlier.
Not after the way Cassian Draven had looked at her like he was trying to solve something dangerous.
The memory still lingered beneath her skin.
“You’re avoiding people now?”
Lucien’s voice broke through the silence as he stepped onto the balcony beside her.
“I’m avoiding stupidity,” Eleria replied coolly.
“That eliminates ninety percent of this academy.”
“Exactly.”
Lucien leaned lazily against the railing beside her. “You know they’ve been talking about the match all day.”
She didn’t answer.
Which was answer enough.
His smirk faded slightly.
“That bothered you more than I expected.”
Eleria finally looked at him.
“Careful.”
The warning in her voice was soft.
Lucien knew better than to push most people after hearing that tone.
But he had grown up with her.
So instead of retreating, he sighed quietly.
“You know what your problem is?”
“I don’t remember asking.”
“You hate being understood.”
Something cold flashed across her expression.
Lucien immediately regretted speaking.
Not because she looked angry.
Because she looked still.
And Eleria Veyron was always most dangerous when emotion disappeared completely.
“That match meant nothing,” she said flatly.
“Then why are you standing alone thinking about it?”
Silence.
Lucien studied her carefully before lowering his voice.
“You looked different in that arena.”
Eleria’s gaze sharpened.
“Explain.”
“You reacted to him.”
The words landed too directly.
Too accurately.
And she hated accuracy.
“He’s a Draven,” she said. “Of course I reacted.”
“No,” Lucien said slowly. “You reacted to Cassian.”
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
A dangerous quiet settled between them.
Lucien cursed internally.
Wrong move.
Very wrong move.
Because now she looked offended.
Not by the accusation.
By the possibility that it might contain truth.
Eleria turned away from him slowly, staring back toward the academy grounds.
Far below, students moved across the courtyard beneath silver lights and towering stone arches.
Normal.
Everything looked normal.
But she could still hear Cassian’s voice from earlier.
Most people break when they lose control.
The memory irritated her immediately.
Who did he think he was?
What gave him the right to observe her like that?
And why—
why did it feel like he noticed things nobody else ever did?
Lucien exhaled quietly beside her.
“You should be careful.”
That finally made her look at him again.
“Are you warning me about a Draven?”
“I’m warning you about yourself.”
Her expression darkened.
“You’re becoming dramatic.”
“No,” he murmured. “You’re becoming curious.”
The word struck harder than it should have.
Curious.
As if she were some naive girl fascinated by danger.
Eleria almost laughed at the absurdity.
She wasn’t fascinated by Cassian Draven.
She distrusted him.
There was a difference.
Wasn’t there?
Before she could answer, movement below caught her attention.
A black vehicle rolled through the academy gates slowly.
Several students immediately stopped walking.
Others moved aside instinctively.
Eleria frowned slightly.
The academy rarely received visitors at night.
Especially not unannounced ones.
Lucien straightened beside her.
“That’s not good.”
The car doors opened.
Men stepped out first.
Armed.
Disciplined.
Not students.
Not academy staff either.
Eleria immediately recognized the silver insignia stitched into their dark uniforms.
Her expression hardened.
“The Syndicate.”
Lucien cursed under his breath.
The Syndicate.
One of the most powerful underground organizations connected to nearly every major mafia family in the country.
They didn’t visit places casually.
And they certainly didn’t arrive without warning unless something important had happened.
Below them, students began whispering rapidly.
The atmosphere across campus tightened.
Eleria watched carefully as one final figure stepped out of the vehicle.
Older.
Tall.
Sharp-eyed.
Dangerous.
The moment he appeared, even the armed men behind him lowered their gazes slightly.
Authority.
Real authority.
Lucien’s voice became quieter beside her.
“That’s Viktor Soren.”
Eleria already knew.
Viktor Soren.
One of the few men powerful enough to walk into Obsidian Dominion without permission.
And somehow—
somehow—
his arrival felt connected to something much larger than politics.
A strange unease slid beneath her ribs.
The same feeling she had experienced after the ballroom confrontation.
Like invisible pieces were already moving around them.
“You should stay away from this,” Lucien muttered.
Eleria looked unimpressed.
“You say that as if I listen to people.”
“That’s exactly the problem.”
Below them, Viktor’s cold gaze swept across the academy courtyard slowly.
Observing.
Calculating.
Then—
he looked upward.
Directly toward the balcony.
Toward her.
Eleria’s body stilled instinctively.
Even from a distance, his eyes felt unsettlingly sharp.
Like he recognized something.
Or expected something.
Lucien noticed it too.
And for the first time that night, genuine concern crossed his face.
“He shouldn’t know who you are.”
Eleria’s gaze never left Viktor.
“But he does.”
The realization settled heavily between them.
Because powerful men did not notice people accidentally.
Especially not men like Viktor Soren.
Far below, Viktor spoke briefly to one of the academy officials before beginning to walk toward the main building entrance.
The crowd parted instantly.
Fear traveled quickly.
Respect traveled faster.
But before Viktor disappeared inside—
he paused.
His gaze shifted slightly past the balcony.
Toward the shadows behind Eleria.
A strange silence followed.
Then the older man smiled faintly.
Not warmly.
Not kindly.
Like he knew something nobody else did.
And walked away.
Eleria turned sharply.
The balcony behind her was empty.
Cold wind moved through the darkness quietly.
Nothing there.
Still—
something about the moment felt wrong.
Lucien stepped closer immediately. “What happened?”
Eleria frowned.
“Someone was there.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
But that wasn’t the unsettling part.
The unsettling part was the feeling lingering beneath her skin.
Like she had almost seen something important.
Or someone dangerous.
Across campus, inside the western training wing, Cassian Draven stood near the massive floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the academy grounds.
Silent.
Watching.
One of the Draven heirs approached carefully.
“You saw the Syndicate arrival?”
Cassian didn’t answer immediately.
His attention remained fixed below.
On the courtyard.
On the black vehicles.
On Viktor Soren disappearing into the academy.
And eventually—
on Eleria Veyron standing high above on the eastern balcony.
Even from this distance, he recognized her instantly.
The way she carried herself made it impossible not to.
Controlled posture.
Sharp stillness.
Danger disguised as elegance.
“What does Viktor want here?” the other heir asked quietly.
Cassian’s expression darkened slightly.
“Something old.”
The answer confused the younger heir.
“What does that mean?”
Cassian finally looked away from the window.
“It means people are about to start choosing sides.”
The younger heir frowned. “Between who?”
A pause.
Then Cassian spoke quietly.
“Between families.”
Something cold settled in the room after that.
Because if the Syndicate was interfering directly—
then this wasn’t academy politics anymore.
This was war territory.
The younger heir hesitated before speaking again.
“And the Veyron girl?”
Cassian’s gaze sharpened instantly.
Not visibly enough for most people to notice.
But enough.
“What about her?”
The heir smirked slightly. “People are talking.”
Cassian looked unimpressed.
“People always talk.”
“Not like this.”
Silence.
Then—
“You’re watching her.”
The statement landed carefully.
Dangerously.
Cassian’s expression remained unreadable.
But something in the atmosphere shifted.
The younger heir immediately realized he had stepped too far.
Because Cassian wasn’t angry.
He was deciding something.
And men like Cassian Draven were terrifying when they became quiet.
Finally, he spoke.
“She’s important.”
The answer came too quickly.
Too naturally.
Which made it worse.
The younger heir blinked slowly.
“Important to what?”
Cassian looked back toward the balcony again.
Toward Eleria.
Toward the girl standing alone against the night wind like she belonged to darkness more than light.
Then his voice lowered.
“That,” he said calmly, “is what I’m trying to figure out.”
Later that night, Eleria couldn’t sleep.
Which irritated her beyond reason.
Her private suite remained dark except for the city lights glowing faintly through the massive windows.
She sat near the fireplace in silence, one leg crossed over the other, a book open in her lap she hadn’t read for nearly twenty minutes.
Her thoughts kept drifting.
Back to the arena.
Back to Viktor Soren.
Back to Cassian.
Annoying.
She closed the book sharply.
This was exactly why emotional distractions were dangerous.
They weakened focus.
And yet…
Something about Cassian continued lingering in her mind in ways she couldn’t explain.
Not attraction.
Definitely not attraction.
It was awareness.
Like some invisible thread had formed between them without permission.
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.
Eleria looked toward the door slowly.
Nobody visited her room uninvited.
Nobody stupid enough, anyway.
Another knock.
Three slow taps this time.
Intentional.
Her expression hardened instantly.
Without making a sound, she reached beneath the table and pulled a silver blade free.
Then moved silently toward the door.
No fear.
Only caution.
She unlocked it carefully—
And froze.
Cassian Draven stood outside her room.
Alone.
The sight of him there sent immediate tension through her entire body.
Not because she was afraid.
Because his presence felt too intimate outside the battlefield of public spaces.
Dark coat.
Black gloves.
Sharp eyes fixed directly on hers.
Like he had expected her to answer holding a weapon.
Neither spoke immediately.
The silence between them felt heavy.
Personal.
Dangerous.
Eleria recovered first.
“What are you doing here?”
Cassian’s gaze flicked briefly toward the blade in her hand.
Then back to her face.
“You answer doors aggressively.”
“You appear outside them unexpectedly.”
Something almost resembling amusement touched his expression.
Almost.
Then disappeared.
“I need to talk to you.”
Her eyes narrowed immediately.
“That sounds unfortunate for both of us.”
A dangerous quiet settled between them again.
And somehow—
standing alone together in the middle of the night felt far more dangerous than facing each other in the arena ever had.
Because this wasn’t public anymore.
This was private.
And private moments had a way of becoming weaknesses.
Cassian looked at her carefully.
Too carefully.
Then finally said the words that made something cold move through her chest.
“Viktor Soren knows who you are.”
Eleria’s grip tightened around the blade slightly.
“I know.”
His gaze darkened.
“No,” he said quietly. “You don’t understand.”
For the first time since opening the door—
real unease touched her expression.
Cassian noticed immediately.
Of course he did.
And somehow that only made the atmosphere between them feel more dangerous.
Because now he was standing close enough to notice fear.
And Eleria Veyron had spent years making sure nobody ever did.
- Writer
