22

22
Mirella’s POV

School felt different without the female legion around.

The air wasn’t as heavy, the tension not as sharp.

People laughed more freely in the hallways, but beneath it all, there was still a quiet fear.

Everyone knew the expelled legions might be gone, but their shadows lingered.

The two male legions who remained kept to themselves now, avoiding trouble and attention.

They looked smaller somehow, stripped of power.

Kaelen, though—he didn’t seem to belong to either side anymore.

He wasn’t walking with them.

He wasn’t sneering or showing off like he used to. Instead, he had started sitting with us during lunch.

The first time it happened, the entire cafeteria went silent. I could practically feel everyone’s eyes on us. Iris had choked on her juice, and the stutterer couldn’t look up from his tray the whole time.

But Yuki just kept eating like it was normal, and Dante gave Kaelen a simple nod.

Kaelen didn’t talk much, which was probably for the best. Still, his presence at our table felt… complicated. I didn’t hate it, but it made me nervous.

Every time our eyes met, I felt that same confusing mix of curiosity and something I didn’t want to name yet.

I told myself it didn’t matter.

He was just trying to blend in, maybe stay out of trouble until everything blew over.

But part of me wondered if there was something else behind those quiet glances.

A few days later, he asked me to meet him after school.

He didn’t say why—just told me to come to the basketball court.

I almost said no, but curiosity won.

When I got there, he was already waiting, dribbling a basketball absentmindedly.

The court was empty, sunlight cutting across the concrete.

He stopped when he saw me. “You came.”

“You said it was important,” I replied, crossing my arms. “What’s going on?”

Kaelen dropped the ball and leaned against the fence. “I needed to tell you something. The female legion’s family—they’re planning something.”

My stomach tightened. “What do you mean?”

“I heard it from my father. Their family’s furious about the expulsion. They think you humiliated them. They’re not just going to let it go.”

I frowned. “And how exactly do you know that?”

His eyes flicked to me. “My family has connections. We hear things before they happen.”

He wasn’t bragging; his tone was matter-of-fact, almost weary.

“So, what are you saying? They’re going to come after me?”

“I’m saying be careful. Especially when you go home. Don’t walk alone. Keep your phone on you at all times.”

Something in his voice made me believe him. It wasn’t a warning for effect—it was concern. Real concern.

“Thanks,” I said quietly. “But… why are you helping me, Kaelen? You don’t owe me anything.”

He paused, eyes softening. “Maybe because you’re the first person who didn’t back down. Everyone else either feared us or wanted something from us. But you—” He hesitated, his gaze meeting mine. “You called us out. You called me out.”

My heartbeat quickened. “That’s not a reason to get involved in my mess.”

“Maybe not,” he said with a small, almost bitter smile. “But I’m involved anyway.”

I didn’t know what to say after that.

His honesty unsettled me more than any threat could.

“I should go,” I muttered, grabbing my bag.

“Be careful,” he said softly as I walked away.

That night, I realized maybe he was right.

On my way home, a dark sedan pulled out from the corner street.

At first, I thought it was just traffic.

But every turn I took, the car followed—slow, deliberate, headlights off.

My chest tightened.

I tried not to panic, but my hands were shaking as I grabbed my phone and called Dante.

“Dante, someone’s following me,” I whispered.

“Where are you?” His voice was sharp, alert.

“Elm Street. Near the pharmacy.”

“Go somewhere public. Don’t go home. Go to the mall or a restaurant—somewhere with cameras.”

I hung up and walked fast toward the shopping mall a few blocks away.

The car slowed down when I turned but didn’t follow me into the parking lot.

I rushed inside, heart pounding.

I stayed there for almost an hour, pretending to browse clothes while my hands trembled.

When I finally took a taxi home, I couldn’t stop looking over my shoulder.

That night, I didn’t sleep.

The next morning, I told my group what happened.

Yuki’s face went pale.

The stutterer couldn’t even speak. Iris looked like she was ready to throw up.

Dante’s jaw clenched. “From now on, I’m walking you home.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I do,” he said firmly. “You’re not walking alone again.”

I didn’t argue.

From that day, I started paying attention to everything—the shadows on the sidewalk, the sound of engines, even footsteps behind me.

I hated living like that, but fear had a way of sharpening your senses.

During class, Kaelen kept glancing at me.

I tried to ignore him, but after the third time, I gave up and met his eyes.

His brow furrowed slightly, like he was reading me.

After class, he caught up to me by the lockers. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I lied.

He tilted his head, clearly unconvinced. “Something happened.”

I didn’t answer.

“Mirella.” His voice softened. “If anything happens, call me. Don’t hesitate.” He pulled out his phone and handed it to me. “Here. My number.”

I stared at it, unsure what to say. “You’re serious?”

“Completely.”

I saved it without arguing. Something about the way he said it—calm, certain—made it impossible to refuse.

The next few days passed quietly. No strange cars, no threats, no whispers.

I started to think maybe it had been just a scare tactic, a way to remind me who I was dealing with.

But peace never lasted long.

One evening, while I was studying, my mother called me into the living room.

She was holding a white envelope, her hands trembling.

“Mirella,” she said, her voice tight. “This came in the mail today.”

I took the letter and opened it.

The handwriting was elegant, but the message was ugly.

Withdraw your daughter from Saint Auriel Academy.
Or the next warning won’t be just words.

My mother’s face had gone pale. “This has gone too far. You’re transferring. I don’t care what you say.”

“No,” I said immediately. “That’s exactly what they want. They’re trying to scare us into running.”

“Mirella, this isn’t a game!” she snapped. “These people have money and power. They could ruin us—or worse!”

“They already tried to ruin me,” I shot back. “I’m not giving them what they want.”

My sister, who had been listening from the hallway, spoke up quietly. “Mirella, maybe Mom’s right. It’s not just about you anymore. You’re putting us all in danger.”

Her words stung more than I expected. “So I should just give up? Let them win?”

“This isn’t about winning,” she said. “It’s about surviving.”

I looked between them, heart pounding.

They were scared, and I couldn’t blame them.

But I couldn’t let fear decide my life again.

“I’m staying,” I said, voice shaking but firm. “I’m not running from them.”

My mother’s eyes filled with tears—half anger, half fear.

She turned away, muttering something about stubbornness and stupidity.

I went to my room, slammed the door, and sank onto the bed. My hands were still shaking when I grabbed my phone.

There was only one person I could call.

Kaelen answered on the first ring. “Mirella?”

I took a breath. “They sent a letter. To my house.”

“What did it say?”

“That my family should transfer me. Or else.”

There was silence on the line, then Kaelen said quietly, “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.”

I frowned. “Handle it how?”

“My family’s more powerful than theirs. I’ll make some calls.”

“Kaelen, no,” I said quickly. “I don’t want you getting involved in this.”

“It’s too late for that,” he replied. “You’re involved, which means I am too.”

His voice was low, determined, and for the first time in days, I felt a strange sense of relief. Like maybe, just maybe, someone was finally on my side.

But beneath that relief was something else—a cold realization.

If Kaelen was right about his family being stronger, and if he was really stepping in on my behalf…

Then this was about to turn into something much bigger than school politics.

And I wasn’t sure anyone could stop what was coming next.