Lilly's Pov
"He has an office?"
"The Elite Council has offices. They're basically given free reign of the administrative building. Perks of being legacy students from founding families." She grabbed my arm. "But Lilly, you should be careful. When they summon people to their offices, it's never good. They're going to either try to recruit you, ruin you, or warn you off from something."
"So my options are join them, get destroyed, or get threatened," I said flatly. "Great choices."
"Just... be smart, okay?" Sage looked genuinely worried. "Don't let them intimidate you, but don't antagonize them either. Walk the line."
Easy for her to say. I was already intimidated. Hell, I'd been intimidated since the moment I'd walked through those gates.
But I wasn't about to let Zayn Blackthorne see that.
Sage gave me directions to the administrative building, made me promise to come find her immediately after, and sent me off like a soldier heading to war.
Which, given the looks I was getting from other students, wasn't too far off the mark.
The administrative building was quieter than the others. I found the Elite Council wing easily enough—it was marked with an ornate sign that looked like it cost more than most people's cars.
I stood outside the door labeled "Z. Blackthorne" for a full minute, trying to calm my racing heart.
Then I knocked.
"Come in."
I pushed the door open and stepped into what could only be described as a teenager's version of a corporate executive's office. Dark wood furniture that gleamed under soft lighting. Leather chairs that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. Built-in bookshelves lined with what looked like actual first editions.
A window behind the desk overlooked the grounds, and sitting at that desk, backlit by the afternoon sun, was Zayn.
He wasn't alone.
Nix lounged in one of the leather chairs, his platinum blonde hair catching the light in a way that seemed almost unnatural. Like he was lit from within. Ashton leaned against the bookshelf, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
"Close the door," Zayn said.
I did, then stood there awkwardly, waiting. The silence stretched out, heavy and oppressive, and I realized with growing irritation that this was a power play.
They were waiting to see if I'd squirm. If I'd fill the silence with nervous babbling. If I'd give them something to use against me.
Fine, two could play that game.
I crossed my arms and waited, meeting Zayn's gaze without flinching. Seconds ticked by. Nix's lips twitched with what might have been amusement. Ashton pushed off from the bookshelf to get a better look at me.
Finally, Zayn spoke.
"You're very different from what I expected."
"Yeah, well, you're exactly what I expected," I shot back before I could stop myself. "Rich, entitled, used to people jumping when you snap your fingers. Am I supposed to be impressed?"
Nix laughed outright at that—a sharp bark of sound that seemed to surprise even him. "Oh, I like her."
"You like everyone who insults Zayn," Ashton said mildly. "It's not a high bar."
Zayn ignored them both, still studying me with those dark, intense eyes. "You spilled coffee on me yesterday. In a café three hours from here."
"I'm aware. I was there."
"And today, you show up here at Ravencrest as a scholarship student."
"Again, aware. Still me, still present in my own life."
His jaw tightened, and I saw Ashton hide a smile. "You understand how that looks suspicious."
"Not really, no." I shrugged. "I applied for a scholarship months ago, long before I knew who you were or that you'd be sitting in that specific café at that specific time. Unless you think I have precognitive abilities, in which case, trust me, I'd have avoided you entirely."
"She's got you there," Nix said cheerfully. "Face it, Zayn. You got coffee dumped on you by a clumsy civilian. Your ego will recover."
"This isn't about my ego," Zayn said, his tone sharp. "This is about the fact that I gave her the last scholarship slot. That I intervened personally to make sure she was accepted. And now I need to know why I felt compelled to do that."
The room went very quiet and to say I was stunned was small, i was dumbfounded. I stared at him, my mind racing. "You did what?"
"The last scholarship spot was already allocated. I had them revoke it and give it to you instead." He leaned forward, his expression intense. "So you need to understand my confusion here."
"Why would you do such a thing?"
"I don't do things like that. I don't intervene in administrative decisions on a whim. But when I saw your application, when I remembered you from the café, something told me you needed to be here and I want to know why."
I didn't know what to say to that.
Part of me wanted to thank him—without his intervention, I wouldn't be here at all. I'd still be back in that apartment with Roger and my mother and no future.
But another part was deeply unsettled by the implications. He'd changed someone else's life based on a gut feeling about me? What did that mean for the person who'd lost their spot?
"I don't know what to tell you," I said finally. "I didn't ask you to do that. I didn't even know you'd done it until right now."
"But you felt it too, didn't you?" he pressed. "In the café. When our eyes met. That shock, that sense of recognition."
"I felt something," I admitted. "But that doesn't mean anything. Static electricity, coincidence, whatever. It doesn't give you the right to play God with people's lives."
"Interesting," Ashton murmured. "She's lecturing Zayn about playing God. I'm starting to see why you were compelled."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded.
"It means," Nix said, sitting up straighter, "that people don't usually talk to us like this. Especially not scholarship students. Especially not on their first day. You either have no sense of self-preservation or you've got titanium ovaries."
"I have a healthy sense of self-preservation," I said. "I also have a low tolerance for power games and intimidation tactics. You wanted to talk to me, fine. We're talking. But I'm not going to stand here and let you interrogate me like I've done something wrong."
Zayn stood slowly, moving around the desk with predatory grace. He stopped a few feet away—close enough that I could see the flecks of amber in his dark eyes, far enough that I didn't feel immediately threatened.
"You dumped coffee on me," he said softly. "You insulted me in front of a café full of people. You stood up to Beauty Whitmore within an hour of arriving. You're currently giving attitude to the three most powerful students at this school." He paused. "Either you're incredibly brave or incredibly stupid."
"Why not both?" I suggested. "Look, I get it. You're used to people being intimidated by you. Your money, your family, your whole 'Elite Council' thing. But I didn't come here to kiss anyone's ring. I came here to get an education, to change my life, to make something of myself."
Nix sat up, a wide smile on his face. "She's feisty, that I like." I glared at him.
"If that means I have to deal with people like Beauty and her cronies, fine. If it means I have to deal with you three staring at me like I'm some kind of puzzle to solve, I'll handle that too. But I'm not going to apologize for existing or for not knowing my place in whatever hierarchy you think runs this school."
The silence that followed was deafening.
I braced myself for the consequences. For them to rescind my scholarship. To make my life hell. To do whatever it was that powerful people did to those who defied them.
Instead, Zayn smiled.
It was a small smile, barely a curve of his lips. But it transformed his entire face, softening the sharp edges and making him look almost... human.
"Welcome to Ravencrest, Lilly Winters," he said. "I think you're going to be very interesting."