POV: Seraphina
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The doors of Blackthorn Academy swung shut behind me.
I didn't look back. I couldn't. If I looked back, I'd see the stone walls that had held me captive for years. I'd see the courtyard where they'd laughed at me. Drenched me in fake blood. Ripped my clothes. I'd see the statue where I'd stripped myself bare. The statue where I buried my shame.
And I'd see the hallway. The abandoned hallway where I'd given myself to a boy I'd never spoken to. A boy who'd watched me secretly for years. Who had m*********d to my face, probably a lot. A boy who'd taken my virginity like he was claiming something that had always been his. Something, like every other thing he owned. Aggressively like he was used to.
His birthright. My body.
I kept walking.
The sun was warm on my skin. The air smelled like spring. I was experiencing warm feelings like never before. The world was still spinning, still alive, still moving forward.
And so was I.
I walked through the courtyard. Students were still gathered there, whispering, staring. They parted as I passed. No one wanted to be in my way. No one wanted to be near me.
I understood why.
I was chaos incarnate now. I was everything they'd never expected. I was the girl who'd been invisible for years, and now I was the only thing they could see. I made sure they did.
"Is that..."
I heard the whisper from somewhere behind me. A girl's voice. Shocked. Disgusted.
"Is that c*m in her hair?"
I didn't stop walking. I didn't turn around.
But I smiled.
A slow, triumphant smile that reached my eyes.
They could see it. They could all see it. "The gooey white paste hugging the wet brown of my disheveled hair. I could feel it drying, hardening, becoming part of me. I could smell him on it—musky and masculine and utterly intoxicating."
The evidence of my shame. My humiliation. My ritual.
And I didn't care.
Because it wasn't shame. It was proof. Proof that I'd survived. Proof that I'd taken control. Proof that I'd chosen this and prove they could clearly, see me now.
I'd gone to that hallway to breathe but it gave me a chance to further complete my humiliation ritual.
I'd knelt for him. I'd taken him in my mouth. I'd let him take my virginity. I'd let him use me, fill me, claim me.
And now I was walking out with his c*m in my hair.
I reached the gates. The iron bars loomed before me, tall and imposing. I'd entered this school as a scared, invisible girl who didn't know her own strength.
I was leaving as someone else. Someone who'd been broken and rebuilt. Someone who'd been claimed and reclaimed.
The black tinted sedan was waiting at the gate. Engine running. Door open.
I walked toward it. My steps were steady. Certain. I didn't hesitate. I didn't look back.
I was wearing his jacket. His c*m was in my hair. His scent was on my skin. His bruises were forming on my hips, my back and even, my lips.
I was marked. Claimed. Belonging to someone I'd never expected to want me.
And yet, I was leaving anyway.
I climbed into the sedan. The leather seats were warm. The air smelled like expensive perfume. The driver didn't speak. He didn't need to. He knew where to take me.
I watched the school disappear through the tinted windows. The iron gates. The stone walls. The courtyard filled with students who would never forget me.
I was done being invisible.
I was done being nothing.
I was Seraphina Blackwood. Only Daughter and Child of Family No. 2. And I had become unforgettable.