Chapter 45 Another Malicious Bullying Again
Evelyn's POV
The documentary faded from the wall, the projection dimming until the room was reclaimed by silence.
With the curtains drawn tight against the afternoon sun, the space held a heavy, twilight stillness where day and night felt indistinguishable.
Kane turned his head, his gaze scanning my face with quiet intensity as if gauging my recovery. "You look much better," he noted softly. "That exhausted look you woke up with is finally gone."
He reached out, his fingertips gently smoothing a stray lock of hair behind my ear. I offered him a wide stretch, rubbing my stomach and feeling a rare sense of contentment.
Kane stood up first, and at a flick of his hand, the curtains glided open. He took my hand, the heat of his palm seeping into my skin. "Let's go, I'll walk you back to your room so you can change. You still have Basic Potions this afternoon."
After a quick change, I met Kane at the entrance of the Potions wing. The hallways were crowded, and I could feel the weight of a dozen gazes—some flickering with curiosity, others sharp with jealousy or blatant disdain. The whispers, though kept low, still reached my ears.
"Look, that's her."
"That Phoenix Clan's latest follower."
"Who knows what tricks she used to get that close to him."
Kane seemed utterly deaf to the chatter, his expression unreadable. Without breaking stride, he pulled me into an embrace. It wasn't a long hug, but it was firm and possessive, as if he wanted to meld me into his body. He rested his chin atop my head, his touch heavy and deliberate. The pressure felt like he was "charging me up"—a silent declaration to the onlookers that I belonged to him.
"I'll pick you up after class."
"Okay!" I nodded, my heart hammering against my ribs.
I pushed open the heavy door. A damp, biting chill hit me, thick with the cloying rot of fermenting herbs. Another underground classroom.
I moved toward my desk, but my feet froze. The wood was no longer clean; it was choked with jagged, black ink. The words was so fresh it shimmered like wet tar under the flickering lanterns.
"Get out," "Kane's plaything," "disgusting," "unworthy"...
Each word was viciously cruel. I instinctively looked back at the door, my eyes scouring the shadows for the culprit. The ink was still spreading at the edges of the letters. Whoever had done this had been here seconds ago— they were likely in this room, perched in a dark corner, watching me with mocking, malicious eyes, waiting for me to shatter, scream, or crumble.
That was the show they wanted to see. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
I drew a shuddering breath, forcing the bile back down. I stood quietly in before the desk. I raised my hand and traced a deliberate arc through the air. "Clean and clear," I murmured.
The spell took hold instantly. The vicious curses dissolved as if they had never existed, leaving the wood smooth and spotless. I casually pulled out my chair and sat down. A low, dissatisfied murmur rippled through the back of the classroom.
The rest of the hour was a gauntlet of "accidents." Girls "slipped" while passing supplies, splashing sticky toad slime across my sleeve. The boy in front of me repeatedly slammed his chair back into my desk, making my cauldrons rattle and nearly causing me to botch my measurements.
Childish, I thought, refusing to look up. If it were before, I would have felt small and broken. Now, I just felt a burning desire to grow stronger—fast, so no one would dare do these things again.
I stopped paying attention to them and focused on my own potion, putting all my energy into brewing it. Although the process was bumpy and the potion's color wasn't perfect, I gritted my teeth and finished the lesson.
When I finally stepped out of the classroom, I let out a long shaky breath.
"Evelyn."
Kane was leaning against the stone wall, his sharp black trench coat cutting a striking silhouette against the corridor. He looked incredible just standing there, but as he strode toward me, his brow furrowed. He could sense the shift in my aura.
"Tired?"
"I'm okay, just hungry again," I lied, forcing a smile to distract him. I didn't want to burden him the petty drama of the classroom. His world was one of power and prestige; I didn't want to drag the darkness of my classmates into his view. "You'll have to suffer through another meal with me."
"Let's go eat then." He didn't push me for details, though his grip on my hand was perhaps a little tighter than usual.
We walked side by side toward the cafeteria, continuous warmth passing through where our palms touched.
The cafeteria was a roar of voice and clattering trays, which helped me relax. We found a quiet corner to sit down. I focused on my mashed potatoes, mentally drafting a plan for how to handle the next "prank."
"Eat this."
Kane placed the larges, golden-brown piece of fried fish from his plate onto mine. The small gesture lifted the gloom in my chest. I took a bite, the savory taste grounding me.
Kane smiled and reached out to touch my hair, but his hand froze in mid-air. His expression shifted instantly. His gentle eyes turned into flint, and the air around us suddenly plummeted in temperature.
"What's wrong?" His sudden change startled me. I didn't know what had happened to make him like this.
Kane didn't answer immediately. He closed his eyes, his brow tightly furrowed, as if sensing some distant connection.
A few seconds later, he suddenly opened his eyes. Terrible anger churned in their depths, his voice terrifyingly low, carrying suppressed emotion:
"Someone broke into my room."
"What?"
I was so shocked I nearly jumped out of my chair. I never expected something like this.
Our dorm rooms—generally unless you invite someone, no one would break in. The rooms' security was very high. Even professors wouldn't randomly enter to inspect.
"And..."
Kane looked up, his gaze fixed deadly on some direction in the cafeteria, as if he could see through the crowd to the intruder. His voice grew even colder: "They seem to be searching through my things."
"Could it be..."