Raiven felt the weight of the previous day lingering as he walked into school that morning. The note in his locker had kept him restless, his mind replaying the cryptic message.
"You're not as hidden as you think."
Who had sent it? And what exactly did they mean?
But today, something else pulled at his attention.
A newcomer had arrived.
The moment she stepped into the classroom, the atmosphere shifted. Her hair gleamed like molten gold under the fluorescent lights, cascading down her back in elegant waves. But it wasn't just her appearance that turned heads—it was the way she carried herself. Poised. Unbothered. As if she knew more than anyone else in the room.
The teacher cleared their throat. "Class, we have a new student. Seraphine Vale. I hope you'll all make her feel welcome."
She offered a polite nod, her gaze sweeping the room with an unreadable expression. When her eyes met Raiven's, a flicker of recognition passed between them. Had they met before? No—he would've remembered someone like her.
"You can take the seat beside Raiven," the teacher continued.
Of course.
Seraphine moved with quiet grace, lowering herself into the empty chair as if she had chosen the spot long before being told. A faint scent—floral yet ancient—drifted from her. It wasn't perfume; it was something deeper, woven into her very essence.
"Raiven, right?" she said softly, her voice smooth as silk. "That was quite the show you put on."
His breath caught. "You!" Realization struck like lightning. "You're Seraphine."
She smirked. "Sera will do."
Her presence unsettled him. Not because of fear, but because something in her felt familiar. As if she wasn't just here by chance. As if she had been waiting for this moment.
The Wair Cats noticed her, too.
Thalen, who had been idly spinning a pen between his fingers, stopped entirely, his gaze locked on Seraphine. Marik leaned back in his chair, assessing her with narrowed eyes. Even Ceryn and Xan, who rarely paid attention to newcomers, exchanged glances.
Senya, however, remained still, flipping through her book with forced indifference. But Raiven caught the slight tension in her jaw. She knew something.
"What do you know about her?" he murmured when the teacher wasn't looking.
Senya didn't glance up. "More than you do," she replied flatly. "And that should worry you."
Raiven wasn't sure what was more unsettling—Seraphine's arrival or the fact that Senya, of all people, seemed genuinely concerned.
By lunchtime, the rumors had spread.
"She's not normal.""She moves like she's... watching us.""Have you noticed her eyes? Like she sees right through you."
Raiven sat at his usual spot, watching Seraphine from across the cafeteria. She wasn't alone—several students had already gravitated toward her, drawn in by her effortless charm. But something was off. The way she spoke, the way she moved—calculated. As if every word, every gesture, had been rehearsed.
Then, as if sensing his gaze, she turned.
And smiled.
A knowing, deliberate smile.
Raiven's blood ran cold.
Who exactly was Seraphine Vale?
And what did she want with him?