Silent Crowns
598 Words
The hallway smells like sweat, cheap perfume, and tension. I hate crowds—too loud, too close, too many eyes. But today, they’re not looking at me. Not yet.
They’re watching her.
Brielle Hart struts through the corridor like a queen without a crown, her clique trailing behind her like obedient dogs. Hair perfect, boots expensive, eyes sharp enough to cut skin. She’s beautiful, but in the way fire is beautiful—dangerous and destructive.
I try to disappear into the lockers, slipping past the lockers with my head low.
No such luck.
“Well, well,” she purrs behind me. “If it isn’t the stray mutt.”
I stop. Don’t turn. Breathe.
Just walk.
“You’ve got some nerve,” she says, stepping in front of me. “I saw you with him.”
I blink. “With who?”
“Don’t play dumb.” Her voice drops to a hiss. “Kael.”
Ah.
There it is.
I lift my gaze slowly. “I wasn’t aware he was yours.”
She laughs—sharp, fake, practiced. “He was. We’re fated. Everyone knows that.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Funny. He doesn’t act like it.”
The girls behind her gasp like I just slapped her.
Her expression twists. “Do you really think a damaged, dirty little no-name like you could ever compete with me?”
I say nothing.
Because I don’t need to compete.
He already chose.
Brielle sees it. Feels it. That’s why she’s shaking.
“You want to act tough?” she says, stepping closer. “Let’s see what happens when you’re not hiding behind Kael’s attention.”
She shoves me.
Hard.
I stumble back, but I don’t fall.
I’ve learned how to balance on broken ground.
The crowd gathers fast. Phones out. Whispers buzzing.
I breathe deep. Try to stay calm.
But something inside me—something dark and ancient—growls.
“Touch me again,” I whisper, “and I’ll rip that fake superiority complex right out of your throat.”
Her eyes flash. “You don’t scare me.”
She swings.
But she’s slow.
I duck. Grab her wrist mid-air. Squeeze.
Too hard.
She gasps. Her knees falter.
“What the hell—” she tries to pull away, but I don’t let go.
Not yet.
“I don’t want him,” I say, loud enough for everyone to hear. “But he’s still looking at me.”
That’s when the crowd parts.
Kael.
Silent. Controlled. Lethal.
He doesn’t say a word as he steps between us, hand gently—gently—pulling mine from Brielle’s wrist.
She practically melts under his touch. “Kael, she—she attacked me—”
“I saw everything,” he says. Flat. Cold.
Brielle opens her mouth. Closes it. Swallows her rage.
Kael’s gaze flicks to me. “Are you hurt?”
I shake my head.
His jaw tightens. “If she touches you again, tell me.”
“I can handle it,” I say.
He looks me over slowly, something dark flickering in his eyes. “I know.”
Then he turns to Brielle, voice low but full of warning.
“Stay away from her.”
She flinches like he struck her.
He walks off without waiting for a response.
And I stand there, heart pounding, throat tight, surrounded by people—but more alone than ever.
Because now everyone’s seen it.
The way he looks at me.
The way I didn’t back down.
And whatever this is?
It’s about to get a lot more dangerous.
- Writer
