Page 48 of Venom (St. Sebastian’s at Cravenmoor Academy #1)

Venetia

S unset paints the ancient stones of St. Sebastian’s in blood-orange light as I stand at my window, watching students hurry across the quad.

Some move with purpose, heading towards the quad where my court will soon convene.

Others scurry like rats seeking shelter, afraid of what the night might bring.

“Final count?” I ask without turning.

Blake looks up from his laptop. “Forty-seven confirmed. All lily recipients, unsurprisingly, except for three who’ve chosen to leave campus entirely.”

“Cowards,” Rafferty scoffs from his position by the door.

“Strategic retreats can be wise,” Blake counters. “Though in this case, I suspect they’ll regret their decision when their family accounts remain frozen and they will come back, begging bowl out.”

I turn from the window. “What about security?”

“Ours now,” Viper says, pocketing his phone. “Landon made record time in getting here. That new Aston was worth every penny.”

“Landon?”

“My second.”

“Should he be away from the South Side?” I ask, my guilt that this is fucking with him even more, eating away at me.

He breathes in slowly. “It’s not ideal, but your dad will make sure nothing goes missing.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“He will have no choice.”

“Noted.”

We exchange a smile. I have never seen anyone treat my dad with the indifference that Viper does. If I weren’t already falling hard for him, that would definitely push me over the edge. It’s sexy as fuck.

“Any word from the Vice-Chancellor?”

Blake’s smile is cold. “Currently drowning his sorrows at The Albion Club in Newcastle, telling anyone who’ll listen about the coup at St. Sebastian’s. Fortunately, the kind of people who frequent The Albion aren’t exactly sympathetic to his plight.”

“And the board?”

“Still scrambling to understand what’s happened to their finances. I’ve arranged for a few of them to receive communications suggesting that supporting your leadership might expedite the resolution of their problems.”

I nod, satisfied. Everything is falling into place with a perfection that would be frightening if it weren’t so exhilarating. In less than twenty-four hours, I’ve transformed from a target to a ruler, from prey to predator.

“It’s time,” Viper says, checking his watch.

We move through the corridors of St. Sebastian’s like a royal procession—me in the lead, my three guardians surrounding me in a protective formation that seems to have developed instinctively between them.

Students move out of our way, even though I see the urgency to talk to me on their faces.

No one dares approach, even though they want this fixed, and they want it fixed now.

As I step onto the quad, it falls silent. More than a hundred students have gathered. More than we expected, and yet more join us, seeing the light. Criminal royalty and legitimate power merged in this courtyard. My courtyard.

Blake stands at my right shoulder, Viper at my left, and Rafferty is positioned a few steps forward in case anyone tries to get too close.

I let the silence stretch for a moment, studying their faces. Fear, but also calculation, ambition, and curiosity. These aren’t ordinary students. They’re the next generation of power brokers, trained from birth to recognise opportunity when it presents itself.

“You’ve made your choice,” I begin. “You’ve decided that your fortunes are better tied to mine than against me. A wise decision.”

A few nervous smiles flicker across faces.

“Let me be clear about what happens now. This isn’t a democracy. This isn’t a partnership. This is a monarchy, and I am your queen.” I lean forward slightly. “That said, loyal service will be rewarded. Betrayal will be punished swiftly and without mercy.”

I gesture to Blake. He nods and pulls out his phone, the weapon that can be deadlier than a knife.

“The financial restrictions on your families will be lifted by midnight,” he says.

“As long as you fall in line. Consider it a gesture of good faith. In return, I expect absolute loyalty and discretion about what happens within these walls.”

A hand rises hesitantly from the middle of the group.

“Leonard Dibley, son of a British banking executive with ties to three different criminal organisations,” Blake whispers, knowing I haven’t got a clue who this fucker is.

“Yes, Leonard?”

He clears his throat. “What about the assassins? The ones who left the lilies?”

Murmurs ripple through the group. It’s the question they’ve all been wondering about.

“Three are dead,” I say bluntly. “Killed this morning when they made the mistake of coming after me directly, but more will come. That’s why our first priority is securing the campus. No one enters or leaves without my knowledge. Every visitor, every delivery, every communication is monitored.”

“Isn’t that a bit extreme?” someone calls out. “You’re putting us on lockdown?”

Rafferty grunts, his expression dangerous. “Three professional killers infiltrated this campus with the intent to murder Venetia and anyone else who took their fancy. So no, it’s not extreme. It’s necessary.”

The quad falls silent again.

“This brings me to your first task,” I say. “Each of you has connections, information networks, and family resources. I want to know who sent the assassins. Someone paid for the hit. Someone knows we eliminated their team. I want a name. We will take care of it.”

Determination replaces fear on many faces. This is something they understand—leveraging connections, extracting information, following money trails.

“You have twenty-four hours, and if any of you think you can get away with sitting on your hands once you get your money back, think again.”

That gives a few of them pause.

“Dismissed.”

The students disperse from the quad, already on their phones, calling in favours and doing whatever else they need to get me the information I want.

“Impressive,” Blake says, turning to me with undisguised admiration. “You’ve turned them from complacent idiots into loyal soldiers in a single evening.”

“Not loyal yet,” Viper cautions. “Obedient. Motivated by self-interest. But loyalty takes time.”

“And results,” Rafferty adds. “They’ll follow as long as you keep delivering on your promises.”

I sink onto a stone bench, suddenly exhausted. The adrenaline that’s carried me through this extraordinary day is finally ebbing, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness. I take a minute and then rise again. “Let’s get back to my room. We don’t know who is watching us out here.”

We make our way back through the now-quiet corridors of St. Sebastian’s. The academy feels different already, with an almost tangible shift in the atmosphere.

Back in my room, I shed my jacket and shoes, collapsing onto the edge of my bed. The three men arrange themselves around the room. Blake is in the armchair with his laptop, Rafferty by the window scanning the grounds, and Viper leaning against the wall near the door.

Rafferty turns from the window, his expression unusually serious. “This is just the beginning, you know. Taking power is one thing. Holding it is another entirely.”

“I know,” I sigh.

We hold our positions for a while, but then Viper is the first to move, coming to sit beside me on the bed. His hand finds mine, warm and steady.

As I drift towards sleep, my phone buzzes with a message. I almost ignore it, but something compels me to take a look.

Unknown number: The crown sits heavy on the usurper’s head. Sleep well, Your Majesty. Tomorrow brings fire.

I sit bolt upright, sleep forgotten. “Blake,” I say, passing him the phone.

His expression darkens as he reads the message. “Not unexpected.”

“Tomorrow brings fire,” Rafferty repeats, having read over Blake’s shoulder. “That sounds like a direct threat.”

“More than that,” Viper says quietly. “It sounds like a promise.”

I feel it then—the first tremor of what’s to come. Like pressure building beneath stone, forces gathering beyond our walls, preparing to test my new reign before it’s even truly begun.

“Let them bring their fire. They’ll find I burn hotter.

” Because this is what they don’t understand, these shadowy enemies who think they can frighten me with threats and assassins.

I’m not fighting for myself. I’m fighting for all those who have been hurt and abused by this organisation.

I’m fighting for something bigger. Fighting for this strange, fierce kingdom I’ve claimed, these three men who’ve bound themselves to me, this future I can almost taste.

Restless now, I rise and go to the window, staring out over the ancient buildings thoughtfully.

Then, the night splits open with an apocalyptic roar.

The blast convulses through the foundations of St. Sebastian’s, sending shockwaves that rattle ancient stonework and vibrate through my bones like a demonic percussion. The ground bucks and heaves, throwing up soil and old trees, grass, and cobblestones.

“Down!” Viper roars, lunging for me.

I hit the deck faster than lightning as he launches his body over mine.

The window explodes inwards, over our heads, covering us in shattered glass.

The heat that roars through the opening hits us in a volcanic wave, so intense it scorches the air in my lungs. The room, previously darkened by the night sky, now glows a sickening orange-red, as if the gates of hell have opened on our doorstep, promising more horrors to come.

“Venetia…”

I shove Viper’s arm away from my head at the sound of my name. My blood runs cold.

“Blake!”

Book 2, Vicious, coming soon: Vicious

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