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TWENTY-NINE

LUCIUS

Looking at her, so fragile, so vulnerable, I hated myself for letting this happen. She was the only thing in this place worth fighting for, and yet she had already lost a battle I hadn’t even been part of.

The first time I saw her, I wanted to break her, shape her into someone who craved my darkest parts. But they got to her first. They shattered my Little Star before I ever had the chance, leaving her crumbling in my hands. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. She wasn’t meant to be broken by someone else. And I wasn’t supposed to be breaking alongside her.

Even if I tried to fix this, I couldn’t erase it from her mind. Scars stay, God, they stay. Everyone carries them, but there’s a difference between the ones left by accident and the ones carved in on purpose. And if there’s anything worse than the pain of the wound, it’s knowing you have to carry the evidence of it forever.

I pressed a kiss to her forehead, whispering. “I know I said I’d stay, Little Star, and it kills me to leave now,” I exhaled sharply. “But I have to check something. I’ll be back.”

“Promise?” Her voice was small, muffled against my chest.

“Promise.” I kissed her again, lingering just a second longer before standing up.

She curled into herself, pulling the pillow close, wrapping her arms around it as though it might hold her together.

My jaw was clenched, fingers curling into fists. I had to go. I had to find them. But leaving her like this gutted me.

They would pay, Little Star. Every last one of them. I swear it.

I turned, walked out of her room, and closed the door behind me. I leaned against it for a moment, my heart urging me to stay, my mind demanding I leave and make them suffer for what they had done to her.

I pushed myself forward, leaving the dormitory, my steps faster by the minute. Cassius would know. If anyone could figure out who had done this, it was him.

Students passed by, faces alight with laughter, casual greetings filling the air. None of it mattered. None of them mattered. Just her. Maybe to them, she was just another face, someone to forget. But to me, she was everything. She had slipped into my veins, and now she was the pulse that kept my heart going.

I pushed through the square, moving like a storm, the south side a blur as I pushed forward.

Cassius’s office spread ahead, and I didn’t hesitate. I shoved the door open, stepping inside as it slammed shut behind me.

“They...” I started to speak, my voice catching in my throat as my eyes locked onto the scene before me. I would never be able to erase this from my mind. “What the fuck?”

He was buried deep inside one of his students. Her shirt hung open, her breasts exposed, her nipples red and hard. The loose tie around her neck was wrapped around his hand, pulling her head back as he controlled her every move. Her skirt was up, and her thong was stretched around her knees, threatening to slip completely with each hard thrust he landed on her. And he didn’t stop when I entered.

Her face was pressed against the glass terrarium, where the thick tail of a python slid across her cheek. The snake’s head hovered at the far end, its tongue twitching as it sensed movement approaching. Strands of her dark hair were matted with dirt, and dust smeared across her pale skin. She wasn’t screaming in fear but in a blurred border between agony and pleasure.

“Oh, hi, Luci,” he smirked at me.

She moaned, her hand moving between her thighs, fingers circling, legs widening. The stretched fabric of her thong remained locked beneath her knees, holding her open.

I arched a brow, lips parting slightly. The sight didn’t disgust me, but it did something else—something that made my stomach coil tight. “I mean...” I gestured vaguely, forcing my eyes back to his face.

“You can join,” he chuckled, his grip tightening on the tie. “Blue, baby, would you mind?”

She bit down on her hand, muffling her moans, nodding her head feverishly.

“No,” I said, exhaling sharply. “Thanks.”

I crossed my arms, tilting my head, trying to piece together how he’d even managed to position her like that, folded between the bookshelf and the terrarium, trapped in such a tight space yet still taking him so eagerly.

Her moans turned breathless, almost operatic, rising in pitch as his rhythm intensified. Then, with one final thrust, he threw his head back, tongue flicking over his lips like he was tasting something divine.

What the fuck am I watching? No. Why the fuck am I watching this?

He pulled out, his cock glistening, and smacked her bare ass. The impact made her gasp, her body jolting forward. And then, without hesitation, he lifted her further into the terrarium, settling her among the dirt and glass.

She blinked up at him, still panting, aching for him. But something shifted when she heard the metallic click.

The lid of the terrarium locked into place. The padlock in his hand snapped shut.

Her eyes widened in fear. “No. Cass, please. No!”

“Shhh.” He pressed a single finger to his lips, amusement dancing in his dark eyes. “Stay still, and he won’t swallow you whole.”

“Cass?” I tore my gaze from her to him, searching for some kind of explanation, some logic in his madness. “What the fuck is this?”

He turned, leaning casually against his desk, unbothered. “What? She’s a bad girl.” He arched a brow. “And bad girls need to be punished.”

Then, he placed his palm against the glass, right where hers trembled on the other side.

“Right, my little Viper?”

She swallowed hard, her back pressing into the corner of the terrarium as though she could somehow disappear into it. She nodded slowly, barely breathing, moving.

Cass turned back to me, settling into his chair as if we were simply having a casual conversation over drinks. “Shoot.”

But I was speechless.

I didn’t know whether to admire the brilliance of his twisted mind or be genuinely concerned about how far gone he truly was.

“So?” He grinned, rubbing his jaw. “I know. I realized something. The python? He’s like a friend. A wingman, even.”

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head, trying to piece together the words I wanted to say. “I...” I blinked at him, still trying to pull myself together from images that were playing in front of my mind. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, crossing his arms. “Just been a little lonely lately. My best friend is too busy chasing pussy in a gas mask.”

“Fair enough,” I muttered, still thrown.

“You can say it. Blue already knows everything.” He shot her a wink before his gaze found mine again.

I wet my lips, finally grounding myself enough to focus. “Okay,” I said, clicking my tongue, forcing my mind back to the reason I came here in the first place. “Do you know what happened to Freya?”

“I was the one who stitched her up,” he admitted, his gaze skittering everywhere but at me. “Sorry, man. I figured it’d be better if she told you herself.”

My fists clenched, nails biting into my palms. A part of me hated that he hadn’t come to me first. Another part, perhaps the louder one, was relieved. She had told me. That meant she trusted me.

“Yeah,” I said, voice steady. “I need names.”

He pulled open a drawer and slid out five files, placing them on the desk. “Consider this my way of making up for not telling you sooner.”

He knew me too well.

“They’re all at my house,” he added. “They know they’ve got detention at five. They also know you’ll be the professor supervising it.”

Too well.

“Apology accepted,” I muttered, gripping the files as I stood. My jaw was tense.

I turned for the door, but before I could open it, his voice stopped me.

“When you’re done, can we talk?” This time, there was no humor in his tone, just quiet concern.

“Sure,” I said, sparing him a glance. “But this will take time.”

I stepped out, shutting the door behind me. Whatever he wanted to talk about could wait. First, I had detention to handle. A lesson to teach. A mistake to correct.

They hurt my Little Star.

They wouldn’t forget it.

Blackthorn’s Detention Room

The detention room was beneath Corvus House, buried deep like a secret the school didn’t want to reveal. It had no windows, just ten desks, one for each person who ended up there, and one desk at the front for me. Behind it stretched a blackboard, and on the edge was a small box of white chalk.

Students always broke the rules. Bullies always found a way to attack the weaker. Blackthorn claimed no tolerance for it, but it happened anyway. Some people were simply wired to hurt others, to build themselves up by tearing someone else down.

I had something special planned for them tonight.

The door opened, and all five of them entered.

Theo entered first, his possessive arm around his girlfriend’s neck. She was chewing gum unpleasantly like a cow chewing its cud.

Disgusting.

I inhaled slowly.

Killing is wrong, Lucius. Don’t do it.

A reminder. A warning. One I had told myself before. Almost hadn’t listened to it before.

They hadn’t even sat down when I stood, clearing my throat.

“Separate tables. Now.”

No protests. Just the scrape of chairs as they moved. They obeyed, but barely. Close enough to each other to feel safe, far enough apart to follow orders.

I walked forward, placing a leather bag on each desk, five in total, each containing a biology dissection kit.

“The lessons learned,” I said, voice smooth, “are the ones you don’t repeat.” I turned toward the board. “The truths you hide,” I continued, writing the words in crisp white chalk, “never stay buried for long.”

I turned back to them, my mouth quirking into something that wasn’t quite a smile.

“And secrets revealed?” I chuckled, shaking my head. “Well, those are never good, are they?”

Silence.

I clapped my hands together. “And finally,” I exhaled, clicking my tongue, “fates sealed.”

I let that hang in the air before stepping closer. My voice dropped. “You sealed yours the moment you laid a hand on Freya Sinclair.”

Their expressions shifted.

I walked to the door, locking it with a soft click , slipping the key into my pocket. Then I strolled back to Theo’s desk. He smirked, a bruised eye still purpling, blissfully unaware that I was the one who had given it to him.

I sat across from him, untied the knot on the leather bag, and rolled it open.

Inside were three scalpels, each one in different length—one small, one sharp enough for precision, and one capable of cutting deep.

A slow smile curled at my lips.

“Let’s begin.”

“Are we supposed to dissect something?” He laughed, a cocky grin plastered across his face as the girls behind him giggled.

“Yes.” I smiled, a slow smirk creeping onto my lips as I took his hand in mine. “Yourself.”

His smirk faltered. “Are you crazy?” He yanked his hand back.

“Oh, I am.” I let out a soft chuckle, rising to my feet. “Or do you want your girlfriend to finally understand whyDaddy locked you in here?”

His jaw clenched, teeth grinding. “You’re sick.” His fingers curled around the scalpel, the blade trembling in his unsteady grip.

“Now write,” I said, voice calm but unwavering. “I have a small dick.”

“No.” The scalpel clattered onto the desk.

I sighed, tilting my head. “Alright,” I said, drawing out the word. “Our dear Theodore prefers to fuck Mommy while Daddy is away.” A laugh rolled from my throat, sharp and cruel. “Shall I continue?”

Gasps rippled through the girls behind him. They exchanged uneasy glances, their hands moving instinctively to their leather kits. They knew. If I kept going, more secrets would be spilled.

“Write. It. Down.” I bared my teeth in a grin. “Or I will.”

His hand trembled as he picked up the scalpel again, pressing it to his arm. As the blade bit into his skin, he whimpered, his breath hitching, then breaking into a sharp cry. Pathetic.

“Fifty times,” I ordered. “That’s how many people you lied to, claiming she slept with you.”

I slammed my palms against his desk, making the surface rattle. “And on your other arm, you’ll carve: I am a big, fat liar for fifty times as well.”

Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the beads of sweat clinging to his skin. His right hand scrawled jagged letters into his left arm, carving through flesh. I could already tell that his grip was weak, the cuts uneven, the pain deepening with every stroke.

The price of his lies.

I turned, stepping toward his girlfriend. Leaning in, I whispered, “Hello.”

“You’ll start with: I am a slut. And since you and your boyfriend share such a special bond, you’ll do it fifty times, too.”

She swallowed hard, her throat bobbing. But she obeyed. Her fingers curled around the scalpel, pressing it against her skin. The first cut made her flinch. The second drew a sharp hiss. By the third, her shoulders shook.

Then, I turned to the others. The remaining three.

“For you,” I said, pacing toward them, “I’ll make sure you won’t be holding anything for a long, long time.”

I strode to my table near the board, retrieving two wide glass beakers and another filled with a clear, dissolving acid. Not strong enough to strip flesh, but enough to burn. Enough to make them feel it.

“Step forward,” I commanded. “One by one.”

They hesitated.

A mistake.

I grabbed the first girl’s wrist, forcing her hand into the liquid. Ten seconds. That’s all it took. Her scream was instant, raw, and piercing. Her knees buckled as she crumpled to the floor, unconscious before her body hit the tiles.

I let her drop. Didn’t spare her a second glance.

“Next,” I called.

The air became toxic with the stench of blood and scorched flesh. If anyone wondered why they chose this, why they hurt themselves rather than let their secrets be revealed, the answer was simple.

They would rather die than be exposed.

Cass had done his homework, dug deep into every single one of them. He knew I’d have to push them this far. And I had.

This wasn’t the first time.

I had always known that there was something in me, a little voice inside me, that enjoyed this. Whispering in my ears since childhood.

Call me a psychopath if you want.

I simply let my demons dance at my side.

I didn’t fear them. I didn’t hold back. I let it all out.

And if you’re wondering what could be worse than this, I have an answer.

When you live in a bubble, surrounded by people who make you feel invincible, you’ll do anything to keep that illusion intact. You wear a mask, blend in, and become one of them. Because the moment that mask slips, the moment your secrets, your pain, your shame threaten to surface—you’ll do whatever it takes to keep them buried. And if someone threatens to expose you? You’ll claw, scratch, and bleed to keep your place.

Two of them were sisters. Raised in a home where faith was law, where sin was something to be beaten out of you. But behind closed doors? Let’s just say their love for each other went beyond what their God would forgive. When their mother found out, she locked them in an asylum. And when that didn’t work, she sent them here, to Blackthorn. A place far enough away to pretend they never existed.

Then there was Theo. Born into old money and raised with everything a boy could ever want, well, except the one thing he truly craved. His mother dearest. And not in the way you think. Let’s just say their love ran deep enough to leave scars. Deep enough to bring another life into the world. When his father found out, there was no shouting, no scandal—just a quiet exchange of money and a favor called in. Blackthorn would bury his son’s sins, just like all the others.

His girlfriend? That word she carved into Freya’s skin wasn’t meant for Freya at all. It was for herself. Her dirty little secret? She didn’t just fuck everyone. She fucked everything.

And the last one—the quiet girl by the door. She never really fit. But when I opened her file, I saw the truth. She was just like them. Desperate to belong, willing to do anything to be accepted. Even setting her boyfriend on fire.

They were all the same. All sinners. They met at the perfect time, in the perfect place, bound together by their secrets. And I didn’t judge. Who the hell was I to judge?

But when they came after my girl, on my grounds?

Now, they would learn what faith truly meant. And prayers? Prayers were long gone.

This was hell. And Blackthorn was their prison now.

“Actions have consequences,” I shouted. “And every single time you choose to bully, I will make sure you suffer ten times worse.”