Monday morning felt like a battlefield disguised as a university campus.
Elian stood in front of the mirror in his condo. He had swapped his usual designer silk shirts for an oversized, shapeless beige sweater and plain trousers. He shoved a pair of thick-rimmed fake glasses onto his nose.
"Invisible," Elian muttered to his reflection. "I am just a background character today."
He grabbed his canvas bag and left The Obsidian Tower.
As soon as Elian walked through the university gates, he felt a hand yank the back of his sweater.
"Explain. Now."
It was Chloe. She looked horrified, staring at his outfit as if it were a crime scene. "Elian Sterling, did you get robbed? Why are you dressed like a retired librarian?"
Milo popped up beside her, sipping his iced latte. "I think it's a look. 'Depressed Chic'. Very avant-garde."
Jax didn't ask questions. The giant rugby captain just grinned and wrapped a heavy arm around Elian's shoulders, shielding him from the crowd. "Leave him alone. He looks comfy. Like a teddy bear."
Liam adjusted his glasses, looking at Elian analytically. "Statistically, this is a camouflage technique. Who are you hiding from, Elian?"
Ren didn't look up from his game console but gave a nod of acknowledgment.
"I'm not hiding," Elian lied, fixing his glasses as they slid down his nose. "I just want to focus on Art History today without... distractions."
"Distractions?" Chloe raised an eyebrow. "Darling, in this outfit, the only thing you'll attract is dust."
Elian laughed. It felt good to be with them. They were loud and chaotic, but they were safe.
The Hallway Drama
Their laughter died down as they turned the corner near the Art Wing. A crowd had blocked the hallway.
"Ow! My ankle!"
Elian sighed. He didn't even need to look.
On the floor sat Serena Vance, looking tearful and fragile among scattered books. Hovering over her was Gabriel Cross, playing the perfect hero.
"Give her space!" Gabriel barked at a freshman student.
"Let's go the other way," Elian whispered to Jax, trying to hide behind the giant's back.
Too late.
"Elian?"
Gabriel's head snapped up. He spotted Elian instantly. Even in the baggy sweater, Elian stood out to him.
Gabriel stood up, leaving Serena on the floor. He walked straight toward Elian, ignoring the murmurs of the crowd.
"You," Gabriel said, blocking Elian's path. "You ignored my calls all weekend."
"I was busy," Elian said flatly, clutching his bag tight.
"Busy?" Gabriel looked him up and down. His eyes lingered on Elian's soft sweater and the glasses. A strange flush crept up Gabriel's neck. Why does he look so... innocent today?
"We need to talk," Gabriel reached out to grab Elian's wrist.
Jax stepped in between them. He didn't push Gabriel; he just existed there like a human wall.
"He said he was busy, Cross," Jax's voice was low and warning. "Back off."
"This is none of your business, Jax," Gabriel snapped.
"It is," Chloe stepped forward, crossing her arms. "And go pick up your girlfriend, Gabriel. She's been sobbing on the floor for five minutes. It's embarrassing."
Gabriel flushed red. He looked at Elian one last time. "This isn't over, Elian."
He turned back to Serena.
Elian let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Thanks, guys."
"Anytime," Milo whispered, eyeing Gabriel with disdain. "Though, did you see how he looked at you? Like he wanted to eat you up. Creepy."
The Assembly of Doom
The Grand Auditorium was packed. The air buzzed with nervous energy.
Elian sat in the very last row, sandwiched between Liam and Jax. He slouched low, practically sliding under the seat.
The Dean took the podium. "Students, please welcome the Chairmen of the Blackwood Group and our Head Trustees."
The lights dimmed. Two spotlights hit the stage.
Kieran Blackwood walked out first. Professional. Cold. Perfect suit.
Kaelen Blackwood followed. Unbuttoned shirt. Restless energy. Dangerous aura.
Elian looked at the screen.
He froze.
He saw the sharp jawline. The silver earring. The tired, aggressive eyes of Kaelen Blackwood.
The memory hit him like a truck.
Saturday night. The garden. The sleeping man. The hand holding his wrist. The jacket he left behind.
"No..." Elian whispered, his hands turning cold. "No, no, no."
Liam looked at him. "Elian? Your heart rate seems elevated. Are you okay?"
"That man," Elian pointed a shaking finger at the screen. "That's Kaelen Blackwood?"
"Yes," Liam confirmed. "Why?"
"I..." Elian choked. "I think I met him. And I think I made a terrible mistake."
On stage, Kieran was talking about "Budget" and "Excellence."
But Kaelen wasn't listening.
Kaelen leaned against the podium, looking bored. But his eyes were scanning the crowd of three thousand students like a hawk searching for a mouse.
He tilted his head. He inhaled deeply.
The auditorium smelled of teenagers and floor wax.
But for a split second... a phantom scent of Vanilla drifted by.
Kaelen's eyes snapped open wide. A smirk—a terrifying, predatory smirk—appeared on his face.
"He's here," Kaelen muttered. His voice wasn't loud, but the microphone picked up the deep rumble.
The students gasped. "Who is here?"
Elian ducked his head completely, hiding behind Jax's broad back.
He knows. He smells me. I am dead.
Kaelen didn't move, but his eyes locked onto the general direction of the back rows.
"Let's wrap this up, Kieran," Kaelen said into the mic, his voice echoing darkly. "I want to inspect the Art Department. Now."
Elian squeezed his eyes shut.
The Art Department.
That was where his next class was.