Macy.
Sleep didn’t come. How could it? Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his. Dark, empty, and promising a world of pain. I spent the night huddled in the armchair I’d wedged under the doorknob, listening to the storm rage outside and the frantic beating of my own heart inside.
Morning arrived gray and unwelcome. The rain had softened to a miserable drizzle. I looked at my reflection in the dark window. Pale face, purple shadows under my eyes, ripped jacket. I looked like a victim.
I couldn’t be one. Not again.
I forced myself to shower, the hot water doing little to wash away the chill that had settled deep in my bones. I put on the nicest clothes I owned, a simple pair of jeans and a clean sweater. Armor.
Maybe he didn’t see me clearly. It was dark. Raining. Maybe he just saw a shape, a shadow.
Maybe, if I was invisible enough, I could survive this.
My roommate’s side of the room was pristine, her bed perfectly made. A note was on the desk. ‘Welcome! Had to run to an 8 AM lab. Let’s connect tonight! - Chloe.’
It was a little piece of normal in a world that had tilted on its axis. I clung to it.
My first class was English Literature. I found a seat in the back corner, keeping my head down and my notebook open. The professor was brilliant. The other students were intimidatingly polished. Their clothes were designer, their bags were leather, and their confidence was something I’d only ever read about in books.
I managed to stay invisible. No one spoke to me. No one looked at me. It was exactly what I wanted.
By lunchtime, a sliver of hope had begun to grow. Maybe I had imagined it. The fear, the intensity in his eyes. Maybe it was just a prank. A cruel, terrifying prank that rich kids played on each other.
I met Chloe in the cafeteria. She was bubbly and bright, with a cascade of blonde hair and a smile that seemed permanently fixed to her face. She was exactly the kind of girl I’d never been friends with.
“Macy! There you are!” she chirped, waving me over to her table. “How was your first morning? Isn’t this place just a dream?”
“It’s… big,” I said, sitting down with my tray. The food was incredible. A salad bar with a dozen types of greens, a carving station, a pasta bar. It was more food than I saw in a week back home.
“I know, right?” Chloe giggled, stabbing a piece of melon with her fork. “My dad said the tuition is basically a down payment on a small country, so they have to feed us well. Have you met anyone cool yet?”
“Just you,” I said.
“Aw, well, I’m the best, so you’re starting at the top.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Okay, quick rundown. See the table over there with all the jocks? That’s the sports royalty. They’re harmless, mostly. The table by the window? That’s the future politicians and CEOs. They’re networking, even over sandwiches. Boring.”
“It’s a lot to take in,” I murmured, pushing a piece of lettuce around my plate.
“You have no idea.” Chloe’s eyes scanned the room, a tour guide in her natural habitat. “The most important thing to know is who to avoid.”
“Avoid?”
“Definitely avoid,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The Vipers.”
The name sent a jolt through me, cold and sharp.
“Who are the Vipers?” I asked, my voice sounding distant.
“They’re not a club, not really. They’re more like… the owners.”
Just then, the atmosphere in the cavernous room shifted. The loud chatter, the clatter of silverware, it all just… faded. A hush fell over the students. It was like a switch had been flipped.
“Speak of the devils,” Chloe breathed, her eyes wide. She was staring at the entrance.
I followed her gaze.
He walked in. Nathan.
He wasn’t dressed like the other students in their preppy sweaters and pressed chinos. He wore black jeans and a plain black t-shirt that stretched across his chest. He moved with a predatory grace, his two friends from the dock flanking him like loyal guards.
Students didn’t just get quiet. They moved. The packed room parted for him like the Red Sea, people literally pulling their chairs in, averting their eyes, making a wide path.
No one wanted to be in his way.
“That’s him,” Chloe whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “Nathan Cassian. His family practically invented money. And other things. Things people don’t talk about.”
I couldn’t look away. He looked even more dangerous in the light of day. His face was all sharp angles and cruel beauty, his expression bored and arrogant. He was the king of this castle, and everyone knew it.
“Don’t stare,” Chloe hissed, ducking her head down to look at her plate. “They say he can smell fear.”
It was too late. His gaze swept the room, dismissive and cold, until it landed on our table. On me.
His eyes locked with mine. There was no flicker of recognition, no change in his expression at all. But he saw me. And this time, there was no hedge to hide behind.
He started walking. Towards us.
My blood turned to ice. My fork slipped from my fingers, clattering onto the plate with a sound that seemed deafeningly loud in the silent room.
“Oh my god,” Chloe whispered. “He’s coming over here. Why is he coming over here? We didn’t do anything.”
He didn’t stop. One step after another, closing the distance. Luca, the brawny one, was smirking. The other one, a guy with sharp, intelligent eyes, looked just as impassive as Nathan.
They stopped at our table.
Nathan pulled out the chair directly across from me and sat down. He didn’t ask. He just took the space. His two friends remained standing behind him, like statues.
The entire cafeteria was holding its breath. I could feel hundreds of pairs of eyes on me.
Chloe looked like she was about to faint. “I, um. I have to go,” she squeaked, grabbing her tray. “I forgot I have a… a thing. In the library. A book thing. So sorry. Bye.”
She practically ran, leaving me alone at the table with the three most feared boys in the school.
I stared at the wood grain of the table, focusing on a small scratch near the salt shaker. I could feel his stare on me, heavy and suffocating.
He didn’t speak.
The silence stretched, thick and terrifying. What did he want? Was he going to threaten me? Accuse me? Drag me out of here and finish what he started with the other boy?
Slowly, he reached into the inside pocket of his black jacket. My heart leaped into my throat. For a wild second, I thought he was pulling out a weapon.
Instead, he produced a single black envelope. It was made of thick, expensive-looking paper. My name, Macy Palmer, was written on the front in elegant, silver calligraphy.
He placed it on the table between us.
Then, with his finger, he slid it across the polished wood. It stopped just inches from my trembling hand.
I looked up from the envelope to his face. His eyes were unreadable, his expression a mask of cold indifference. But the message was crystal clear. It screamed in the silent space between us.
I know who you are.
I know what you saw.
And now, I own you.
He stood up as abruptly as he had sat down. He gave me one last, lingering look before turning his back and walking away. His friends followed.
As he left, the sound returned to the cafeteria in a rush, a tidal wave of whispers and murmurs. The spell was broken.
But I was still frozen, my hand hovering over the black envelope. It felt heavier than a brick. It felt like a tombstone.
My hope of being invisible was gone. It had been a stupid, childish fantasy.
In the kingdom of St. Augustine’s, the king had seen me. And he had just handed me my summons.
