Page 47

Violet stood in front of the restroom mirror, staring blankly at her reflection. The tap ran on, cold water spilling over her hands, but she barely noticed. Her mind was a million miles away, still trapped in the whirlwind of what had just unfolded in that classroom.

She had escaped, mostly unharmed. Her scalp still tingled where Griffin had gripped her hair, but it wasn’t the lingering pain that unsettled her. It was the emotional vulnerability she had shown.

Her golden eyes seemed to stare back at her accusingly. "You cried," they seemed to say.

Violet couldn’t believe she had let that happen. Crying in front of Griffin Hale? The brute of East House? It was almost laughable if it didn’t make her stomach twist with unease.

And yet, Griffin’s reaction had been...unexpected. After her emotional breakdown, all he had done was apologize. The sincerity in his voice still echoed faintly in her mind.

"You are right," he had said regretfully. "I was a coward for facing you when Asher should be the one I should be interrogating. But don’t worry, I’ll surely get the truth out of his mouth one way or the other."

And then, like some holy knight delivering a grand promise, he’d added with unwavering determination, "In case you ever need my help, or need to move into another house, don’t hesitate to come to me. I’ll fight for you and will be happy to welcome you into the East House."

The memory of his words made Violet scoff quietly, water still running over her hands. Holy knight? You have got to be kidding me.

Griffin might have played the role of protector in that moment, but she wasn’t about to start seeing him as her savior. Still, she couldn’t deny that his demeanor had shifted drastically, almost disturbingly so.

But what bothered her more than Griffin’s sudden turn was the look Alaric Storm had given him before they left. That cold, distrusting glare.

Violet shuddered, her spine tingling as she remembered how the Lightning Prince’s sharp eyes had lingered on her, as if dissecting her very existence. It was crystal clear that Alaric didn’t like or trust her. Not even a little bit.

Well, he’s right not to.

Violet shut the tap off abruptly, gripping the edges of the sink as she took a deep breath. Her reflection stared back at her, showing eyes red and puffy from crying.

Violet bit her lip, hating herself for not having any makeup to hide the evidence. There was no way she could walk into her next class looking like this. The last thing she needed was for anyone to think she was a crybaby. She wasn’t weak.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a stall door creaking open.

Violet’s head snapped up as a girl stepped out with an air of confidence that practically radiated off her.

From the elegant sway of her hips to the sweet, almost intoxicating scent of her perfume, Violet instantly pegged her as one of the bluebloods, the wealthy elite that dominated Lunaris Academy.

And if there was one group Violet avoided like the plague, it was the rich and entitled.

The girl walked up to the mirror beside her, placing a small designer bag on the counter with practiced grace. She unzipped it, revealing an arsenal of makeup accessories that gleamed like treasure under the fluorescent lights.

Violet couldn’t help but stare as the girl pulled out a sleek tube of red lipstick and expertly applied it, the vibrant color accentuating her full lips. She popped them with a satisfied smile, radiating the kind of confidence that made it clear she knew she looked good.

She didn’t even wear her jacket and

her shirt was unbuttoned just enough to show off a red lace bra and the subtle curve of her cleavage.

It was deliberate action, Violet noted. The girl intended to grab attention and she did.

But Violet had no time to judge. Her gaze was fixed on the makeup bag as if it held the answers to all her problems.

She swallowed hard, internally debating whether to ask. Bluebloods were predictable. The girl would probably sneer at her, give her a condescending look, or outright ignore her. But the alternative was walking into class looking like a wreck. Violet shivered at the thought.

Her fingers itched with the horrible urge to snatch the bag and run, but she immediately dismissed the idea. This wasn’t her old school. She wasn’t a thief and being branded such would be a living nightmare. Gritting her teeth, Violet decided to take the risk and ask for help.

Before she could get a word out, the girl turned to her with a dramatic flair and said, "All you have to do is ask..." Her voice was smooth, teasing, as if she’d been expecting Violet to speak all along. She smiled. "And you shall receive."

Violet blinked, momentarily taken aback by the girl’s unexpected response.

She studied her closely now, taking in her attractive dirty blonde hair cascading in loose waves, sharp cheekbones, and beautiful hazel eyes.

There was something familiar about her, but Violet couldn’t quite place where she’d seen her before.

"I didn’t think you’d help me," Violet finally admitted, her voice cautious.

The girl raised a perfectly arched brow, her lips curving into a smirk. "And why wouldn’t I help you? You’re one of us."

And just like that, Violet’s suspicions were confirmed. She was an elite student. And, apparently, she — Violet — had become one of them. Except for the title, she was still broke though.

Since the girl seemed to be feeling magnanimous, Violet decided not to waste her luck.

"Fine. Help me with your makeup, please," she requested, doing her best to keep her tone polite.

"Sure," the girl said with a casual shrug, only to add, "But on one condition, Violet Purple."

Violet froze, taking an instinctive step back.

Her wariness wasn’t just because the girl knew her name — nearly everyone in this school seemed to know about her — but because she had learned the hard way that making deals with the students of Lunaris Academy was a death sentence. Nothing good ever came out of it.

The girl seemed to catch her reaction and burst into laughter, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Gosh, your expression is priceless! Don’t worry, calm your ass, sis. I’m not about to demand your firstborn or anything."

But her lighthearted teasing didn’t ease Violet’s nerves in the slightest.

"Then what do you want?" Violet asked cautiously, her muscles tensed as if ready to bolt at any moment.

The girl smirked, leaning slightly closer as she spoke. "I have a tea party with the girls tomorrow, and I was hoping you’d attend."