Chapter 1: Sparks and Spite
Chapter 1: Sparks and Spite
Kael Veyra’s POV
The towering gates of Blackthorn University loomed ahead, wrought iron twisted into sharp curves that resembled the talons of a beast ready to tear me apart. A fitting entrance, I thought bitterly, considering how much clawing it had taken just to get here. No legacy, no family donations—just grit, desperation, and the burning need to escape everything I left behind.
I adjusted the strap of my worn leather bag and took a deep breath. The air was crisp, laced with the scent of old stone, pine, and a hint of rain. It smelled different here—cleaner, colder. Nothing like the suffocating halls of my old university, where even the oxygen had felt tainted by secrets and betrayal.
A flicker of a memory rose to the surface—Arian’s voice, smooth and persuasive, whispering sweet lies that left scars I hadn’t fully healed from. I pushed the thought away, shoving it deep into the corners of my mind where it couldn’t hurt me.
Blackthorn University looked exactly like the glossy photos I’d studied late at night. Gothic spires pierced the sky, ivy clung stubbornly to ancient walls, and stained-glass windows glinted like watchful eyes in the afternoon sun. A new beginning. A clean slate.
At least, that was the plan.
The curious stares began before I even reached the courtyard. Students lounged on stone benches or leaned against the columns of the arched walkways, their conversations falling to hushed murmurs as I passed. I kept my chin up, my expression carefully neutral. Let them stare. I wasn’t here to make friends.
As I reached the main path, I pulled out the crumpled map I’d stuffed into my bag. Blackthorn was practically a labyrinth, and I wasn’t about to risk getting lost on my first day.
“Lost already?”
The voice was smooth, laced with just enough mockery to set my teeth on edge. I looked up and found myself staring into a pair of piercing gray eyes—cool, assessing, and annoyingly amused.
The guy leaning against the stone pillar looked like he’d stepped straight out of a dark academia mood board. Tousled dark hair, sharp jawline, and the kind of effortless arrogance that practically screamed “I own this place.” His blazer was perfectly tailored, his tie just loose enough to suggest he didn’t care about the rules—but not so loose that he looked sloppy.
A king of the Blackthorn jungle. And judging by the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, he knew it.
“Not lost,” I said coolly, folding the map and shoving it back into my bag. “Just deciding whether or not this place is worth my time.”
His smirk deepened. “Bold, aren’t you?”
“Just honest.”
He pushed off the pillar and took a step closer, his gaze never leaving mine. Most people would’ve looked away by now, unnerved by the intensity of his stare. But I’d spent years learning how to hold my ground, and I wasn’t about to back down now.
“Draven Ashford,” he said, offering his hand like he was doing me a favor.
I raised an eyebrow. The name sounded vaguely familiar—probably something I’d skimmed in one of the Blackthorn forums during my late-night research sessions—but I didn’t reach for his hand.
“Kael Veyra,” I said. “And I’m guessing you’re someone I’m supposed to be impressed by?”
Draven’s eyes widened slightly, and for a split second, I thought I saw a flicker of surprise—or maybe amusement. Then the smirk was back, sharper than before.
“You’re going to be fun,” he said, dropping his hand. “Welcome to Blackthorn, Kael Veyra. Try not to get eaten alive.”
With that, he turned and sauntered off, leaving me standing there with my heart pounding and my fists clenched at my sides.
Asshole.
I took a deep breath and forced myself to relax. Draven Ashford might have been the king of this place, but I’d dealt with worse. Much worse. I wasn’t here to play games or get caught up in whatever power dynamics ruled Blackthorn’s social hierarchy.
I was here to survive. To rebuild. To prove—to myself, more than anyone else—that I wasn’t broken.
By the time I found my dorm room, my mood hadn’t improved much. The encounter with Draven Ashford had left a bitter taste in my mouth, and the stares and whispers that followed me through the hallways hadn’t helped.
I unlocked the door and stepped inside, bracing myself for whatever horrors awaited me. I’d been assigned a shared room, which was less than ideal, but as long as my roommate wasn’t a complete nightmare, I could deal.
“Oh my God, you’re here!”
A blur of motion, and suddenly I was being hugged by a petite girl with bright red hair and a smile that could probably light up the entire campus.
“I’m Livia!” she said, bouncing back and giving me a once-over. “You must be Kael. I’ve been waiting for you all day!”
“Uh, hi,” I said, a little overwhelmed by her enthusiasm.
“I know we’re going to be best friends,” Livia declared, grabbing my hand and pulling me further into the room. “You’ve got that whole mysterious, badass vibe going on, and I’ve always wanted a badass best friend.”
I blinked, unsure how to respond. I wasn’t used to people being this... friendly. But there was something about Livia’s energy that was hard to resist.
“So,” she said, plopping down on her bed and grinning up at me, “tell me everything. Who’s already pissed you off? Was it Draven? It was Draven, wasn’t it?”
I stared at her, caught between surprise and laughter.
“Yeah,” I said, sitting down on my own bed and finally letting out a small, reluctant smile. “It was Draven.”
And just like that, for the first time in a long time, I felt like maybe—just maybe—things were going to be okay.
