Page 47 of Venom (St. Sebastian’s at Cravenmoor Academy #1)

Venetia

T he assembly hall buzzes with anxious energy as hundreds of St. Sebastian’s students file in, their whispers creating a symphony of fear and speculation.

The Vice-Chancellor, a pinched-faced man in his sixties named Reginald Worthington, stands at the podium with two security personnel flanking him.

“He’s brought reinforcements,” I murmur to Blake as we slip into seats near the back.

“He’s desperate,” Viper mutters.

“Desperate men make desperate decisions,” Blake replies, his eyes scanning the room. “Be ready for anything.”

We sit huddled together. Viper is practically on top of me, he is that close, with Raff behind me and Blake on my other side.

“Your attention, please,” Worthington’s voice booms through the speakers, silencing the chatter. “I’ve called this emergency assembly to address the concerning incidents that have occurred on campus.”

I straighten in my seat, watching as he adjusts his spectacles with shaking hands. Weak. Unprepared for what’s coming.

“Several students have reported receiving threatening messages, and there have been unauthorised persons spotted on academy grounds.” He pauses, his gaze sweeping across the hall.

“I want to assure you that we are taking these matters extremely seriously. Additional security personnel have been brought in, and all outer perimeter gates will be locked until further notice.”

A murmur ripples through the crowd. I exchange a look with Blake. Lockdown? What the fuck?

The students of St. Sebastian’s, heirs to criminal empires and corporate kingdoms, aren’t accustomed to having their movements restricted.

“Furthermore,” Worthington continues, “all students are required to report any suspicious activity or individuals to security immediately. Anyone found withholding information will face severe disciplinary action. In light of these threats, all extracurricular activities are suspended indefinitely. All students will return to their rooms directly after classes. No exceptions.”

The murmuring grows louder, edged with indignation now.

These restrictions might work at a normal university, but St. Sebastian’s isn’t normal.

Its students are used to buying their way out of inconvenience, manipulating rules to suit their needs.

They’re not going to accept being locked up like children.

“Additionally,” Worthington raises his voice over the growing discontent, “we will be conducting random room searches over the next few days to ensure campus safety. This is non-negotiable.”

That’s my cue. I need to shut this shit down before he decides we’re all criminals in jail.

I stand, the movement deliberate and unhurried. Heads turn towards me as I walk down the centre aisle towards the stage. Worthington falters mid-sentence, his gaze landing on me with a flicker of apprehension.

“Miss Corbyn-Hale, please return to your seat. I haven’t finished.”

“Oh, but you have,” I reply, my voice carrying easily through the now-silent hall. “You’re quite finished here.”

I continue my advance, feeling hundreds of eyes following me. Behind Worthington, his security men straighten, hands moving subtly towards concealed weapons.

“This is highly inappropriate,” Worthington splutters. “Security, please escort Miss Corbyn-Hale back to her seat.”

Neither guard moves. One glances nervously behind me, where Viper is my shadow, his cold stare promising violence that they aren’t prepared for.

The other makes brief eye contact with Rafferty, who has moved to the side of the stage like a ghost. He gives the guard an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

They know a losing battle when they see one.

I reach the steps to the stage and climb them slowly, each footfall echoing in the silence. Worthington takes an involuntary step back.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demands, his authority crumbling with each passing second.

“Revolution,” I say simply, stopping a few feet from him. “Or evolution, if you prefer. St. Sebastian’s is not becoming a prison.”

Worthington’s face flushes crimson. “This is absurd. I am the Vice-Chancellor of this institution, appointed by the board of?—”

“The board,” I interrupt, “has bigger concerns at the moment. Like how their private financial dealings have suddenly come under intense scrutiny from regulatory authorities.” I turn to address the assembly, raising my voice.

“Many of you have received messages about financial audits, frozen accounts, questions being raised about certain investments. Your parents are panicking, aren’t they? ”

The silence confirms it. These students know exactly what I’m talking about.

“That wasn’t an accident,” I continue. “That was me. Or rather, that was the power I wield now.”

“This is blackmail,” Worthington hisses.

“This is business,” I correct him. “Stand with me against the system, and this becomes a symbol of protection, not destruction. Your financial problems disappear. Your families’ empires remain intact. Your futures secure.”

“System?” someone near the front shouts out. “What the hell?”

“This is preposterous! You cannot simply walk in here and?—”

Blake rises from his seat, his voice cutting through the hall like a blade. “Actually, she can, and she did.”

I face the assembly again. “St. Sebastian’s is under attack, I believe we are all about to be burned, but together we stand a chance of getting out of this alive. You have two minutes to decide if you are with me, or if you will be the cause of your families’ ruin.”

I catch Blake’s eye. He nods approvingly. I’m getting it. Be blunt, forceful, tell them how it is.

“True power isn’t inherited, it’s taken, and I’m taking it.”

The silence is absolute now, hundreds of faces turned towards me with expressions ranging from fear to awe to calculation.

Worthington finds his voice again. “This is madness. You can’t possibly control?—”

“Reginald,” I cut him off, using his first name deliberately, “your services are no longer required. You may gather your personal belongings and leave the campus by nightfall.”

His face contorts with rage. “You little bitch.”

Viper appears behind him as if materialising from thin air, one hand gripping Worthington’s shoulder with bruising force. “Watch your language when addressing the lady,” he says quietly, but his voice carries in the silent hall.

Worthington pales, finally understanding the gravity of his situation. He looks out at the sea of students, searching for allies, but finds only impassive faces. Even his security guards have stepped back, unwilling to intervene. The staff… are ghosts in the wind. Nowhere to be seen.

I wait until Worthington has been removed from the hall by Viper before continuing.

“St. Sebastian’s operates on one principle above all others: power respects power.

I’ve demonstrated mine. Now it’s time for you to decide where you stand.

With me or on your own when the next wave of assassins arrives. ”

“Assassins?” one of Ana’s friends blurts out. “What is going on?”

“The lilies this morning were a message. The organisation behind St. Seb’s is running scared. They are coming for me. Will they find an army? Or a bunch of broke wannabe mafia heirs?”

“They’re sending more?” a guy at the back shouts out.

Rafferty steps up onto the stage, his voice carrying easily. “They will come. The three who tried this morning are dead. Their replacements are probably already on their way.”

A ripple of shock runs through the crowd. They hadn’t known about the assassins, about the bodies currently being disposed of somewhere on campus.

“This isn’t a game,” I continue. “This is survival. St. Sebastian’s has always been a battleground, but now the war is out in the open. I’m offering protection to those who align with me, resources to those who support me, and a future to those who follow me.”

I pause, letting the weight of my words sink in. “You have to decide. At dusk, my court convenes, and the new era of St. Sebastian’s begins.”

With that, I step away from the podium. The hall remains silent for a heartbeat, then erupts into chaos as students turn to each other, arguing, questioning, calculating their odds.

Blake meets me at the bottom of the steps, offering his arm with a small smile. “Magnificent,” he murmurs as we walk towards the exit. “Absolutely magnificent.”

“Not too theatrical?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

“Just theatrical enough. Fear needs spectacle to truly take root.”

Rafferty falls into step on my other side. “You’ve started a stampede. Half of them are already texting their parents, trying to figure out if you’re actually capable of what you’re claiming.”

“And the other half?”

“Already convinced,” he says with a grin. “They know which side their bread is buttered on.”

Viper rejoins us as we exit the hall, the commotion fading behind us. “Worthington has scarpered like the rat he is.”

“Figures,” Blake says dismissively.

We walk across the quad, the autumn sun casting long shadows across the ancient stonework. Students scatter before us like startled birds, whispers following in our wake.

“It’s working,” I say quietly. “They’re afraid.”

“Fear is a start,” Viper replies. “But fear alone won’t build the empire you want. You need loyalty, too.”

“Loyalty comes with results,” I counter. “When they see that I can deliver on my promises, fear will transform into something more valuable.”

Back in my room, I sink onto the edge of my bed, the adrenaline of the morning finally catching up with me. I’ve killed. Overthrown the administration of one of the most prestigious academies in Britain. Set myself up as a target for whoever sent the assassins.

And yet, I’ve never felt more alive.

“What happens now?” Rafferty asks, leaning against the window frame.

“Now we wait,” Blake answers, checking his phone. “The messages are already flooding in. Students wanting meetings, clarification, seeking favour. Whoever is behind this organisation will know by now and will be reacting.”

“Then we get ready to respond, with or without an army,” I say.

Viper sits beside me, his presence solid and reassuring. “You started a war today,” he says, his voice tinged with something that might be pride. “Are you ready for what comes next, wildcat?”

I look at them. My men. My court. My weapons.

“If St. Seb’s wants a queen,” I say, steel in my voice, “they’ll have one. But they’ll take my venom along with my blood.”

The men exchange glances, something unspoken passing between them.

“What?” I demand.

“You’ve made enemies today,” Blake says carefully. “Powerful ones. The kind who don’t accept defeat gracefully.”

“Good,” I reply, rising to my feet. “Let them come. Let them all come.”

Because in this game of blood and power, I’ve finally found my purpose. St. Sebastian’s isn’t just an academy anymore. It’s my kingdom. My fortress. And I will burn the world to ashes before I surrender it.