Raven POV:
Next, I should probably tell you how I lost my ridiculous 'princess-wannabe,' room mate but before we get to her, let's rewind a bit—let's talk about what happened after things went south with Lucian Blackwood.
Getting Infamous
I came to learn that he-the cold bastard guy I bumped into- was Lucian Blackhart, son of Alpha Damien Blackhart—my father's worst enemy. To be honest, I didn't really understand what the feud was about, but Lucian seemed intent on making sure it carried on to the next generation.
And unlucky as I was, I also found out that Lucian and his two sidekicks, XAVIER and TYLER, pretty much ran this entire school. Dominated it, really. The other Alphas practically worshipped them. It was pathetic. They called themselves Alphas, but in reality, they were nothing more than spoiled brats with power they didn't deserve.
Apparently, if the "king" of the school didn't like me, then the whole damn school didn't like me either. And the worst part? I couldn't figure out why Mark and Megan seemed to get a free pass from this whole Blackhart-Blackwood feud.
But okay, let me catch you up. After my awkward first encounter with Lucian, I picked myself up, wiped the dirt off my clothes, grabbed my bags, and walked straight in. I wasn't about to let that cold bastard—along with his idiot friends—stare me down like I was prey.
Mark had been talking about how the "sick, weak step-sister" was coming to school, and naturally, the other students were curious. They had to see the so-called "sickly Alpha child." So, when they witnessed my little encounter with Lucian, it was like throwing gasoline on a fire. Everyone suddenly avoided me like I had the plague.
I didn't care though. I wasn't here to make friends. I wasn't here to bow to anyone, especially not some overgrown Alpha wannabes.
When I made it to the administration block to register, things didn't get any better. My assigned tour guide apparently "had an emergency" and bailed on me after the incident, leaving me to fend for myself. Awesome.
The secretary handed me the registration form, detailing everything I needed to know—dorm number, class schedule, subjects I'd be studying. Fantastic. Now, I just had to figure out where the hell my dorm was. The one thing I hoped for was that I wouldn't get stuck with a spoiled, entitled Alpha brat as a roommate.
********
Finding my assigned room and dorm was proving to be an absolute nightmare. You'd think, with the size of this school, they'd have some kind of map or at least a guide who wouldn't let a new student wander around like a clueless idiot. But no. They left me to fend for myself. I had no clue where anything was, and worse, no one seemed to care enough to help. Every time I passed someone, they either ignored me or gave me the kind of look you give a piece of gum stuck to your shoe.
I was starting to feel like an invisible ghost in a haunted house.
I wandered for what felt like forever, my head spinning with confusion. Every hallway seemed the same—long, white, and impersonal—until I finally came across a large set of double doors. There was a sign on the wall, but it was written in small, latin letters that I found it difficulty to read. I just assumed it was where I needed to be. The fact that I hadn't seen any other girls around didn't register until it was too late.
I pushed the doors open.
The first thing I noticed? The smell. A mixture of cologne, musk, and something else that made my stomach turn. Not exactly what I was expecting from the girls' dorm, but hey, I wasn't going to question it. I was just too relieved to be somewhere that wasn't another empty hallway.
That was, until I heard the voices.
And then, the realization hit me like a truck.
I was in the boys' dorm.
I froze in place, staring wide-eyed at the few students lounging around, staring back at me like I'd just walked into the middle of a crime scene. There were two guys sitting on a couch, another standing in front of what look like a shelf full off books, and a few others milling about, It was something like a common room. The room went silent. The air was thick with surprise, then confusion, then... something else. Disbelief? Amusement?
One guy, a tall, dark-haired student with a smirk plastered on his face, was the first to speak.
"Well, well, well. Looks like the little sickly Blackwood is a peeping tom," he said, his voice dripping with that condescending tone that made my skin crawl. His friends chuckled behind him, the sound like nails on a chalkboard.
I swallowed hard, a flush creeping up my neck. "This isn't the girls' dorm?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, hoping to salvage some shred of dignity. But it was too late. The damage was done.
Another guy—this one blond, with a sharp jaw and an even sharper laugh—stepped forward, crossing his arms. "Nah, sweetheart," he said, a mocking grin spreading across his face, "this is the boys' dorm. Guess you took a wrong turn, huh?"
I couldn't even muster a snarky comeback. I was already cringing internally, feeling like an absolute idiot. How did I manage to screw up something this simple? Of course, this would be my luck.
"I... I'll just go," I stammered, backing up toward the door, but not without some unfortunate drama.
As I turned, I misjudged the angle of the doorframe and nearly tripped on my own feet. My suitcase, which I had so carefully dragged across campus, tipped over with a loud crash, sending books and random personal items spilling everywhere. The guys burst into laughter, and I swear, I could feel my reputation being cemented right there in that moment.
"Smooth move, Blackwood, Your also a klutz apart from being a peeping tom" the guy on the couch said, still laughing. "How about you stay a little longer? I'm sure the rest of the guys would love to meet the infamous 'sickly' Alpha and see how 'sick' she really is."
I bit my lip, struggling to keep my cool. I was already mortified. The last thing I needed was these assholes turning this into some kind of spectacle. I didn't need to add any more fuel to the fire.
I grabbed my suitcase and hurried toward the door, but just as I was about to escape, the blond guy called out to me.
"Hey, sick girl! Don't forget to tell your daddy how really 'sick' his sperm was!"
I didn't dignify that with a response. Instead, I rushed out, slamming the door behind me and wincing at the sound. As soon as the door clicked shut, I leaned against it, my heart racing in my chest.
This wasn't how I'd imagined my first day. Not even close.
I took a deep breath, running my hand through my hair in frustration. This was going to be bad. There was no way this incident wouldn't spread like wildfire across the school. I could already picture it: my name being whispered in the halls, my reputation spiraling before I'd even had a chance to settle in.
I pushed myself away from the door and started walking down the hallway again. My mind raced, full of angry thoughts and doubts, but one thing kept repeating in my head:
I couldn't back down. I wasn't going to let a bunch of arrogant assholes ruin my time away from home but I prefer to call it hell.
It took what felt like hours, but eventually, I found the girls' dorm. It wasn't anything like the boys' dorm. For one, it was quieter, and the air didn't reek of cologne and testosterone. I stepped inside and immediately felt a sense of calm—though, to be honest, it wasn't much better than the chaos I'd just escaped.
The common room was peaceful, though still not exactly what I'd call welcoming. A few girls sat on the warm comfortable-looking couches, some buried in books, others half-heartedly doing their nails while muttering to one another. It felt... ordinary. It didn't have the aggressive energy of the boys' dorm, but I wasn't exactly feeling the "sisterhood" vibe either.
At the far end of the room, a grand staircase curved upward, the polished wood steps gleaming under the overhead lights. The staircase was elegant, almost regal, the kind of thing you'd expect in a mansion—not a dormitory. The iron banister twisted like vines, intricate and almost too beautiful for a school. The stairs led up to the rooms, and I assumed—no, hoped—that mine was up there.
I rolled my suitcase toward the stairs, my head held high, and pretended like I wasn't hyper-aware of the way every pair of eyes in the room was on me. The girls stared at me as if I were some sort of ghost, their eyes wide with curiosity, disbelief, or maybe even judgment. Great. This was going to be fun.
Not a word was spoken, though, and I didn't care. I wasn't here to make friends, especially not with a bunch of girls who had already decided I was weird. I ignored the stares, my face set in a neutral expression, and pushed my suitcase up the stairs with all the dignity I could muster.
The upper floor was quieter still, and as I walked down the hallway, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of... freedom. No more walking on eggshells in my father's palace. No more fake smiles. At least here, I could breathe—at least for now.
The hallway on the second floor was just as grand as the rest of the dorm—luxurious, but sterile. The kind of place that made you feel like you were in a magazine spread. The walls were a soft cream color, and the carpet beneath my feet was plush, almost too soft. I kept walking, ignoring the occasional door that opened and slammed shut as I passed, until I finally reached the door to my room.
I found my room without much trouble. It was at the end of the hall, tucked away from the other rooms, which gave me a strange sense of relief. I didn't want to be near anyone right now, especially not after my spectacular entrance.
I stepped in cautiously, eyes scanning the space. The first thing I noticed was how it was split into two distinct areas: a small living room with a couch and a kitchenette on one side, and two bedrooms off to the other side. It looked like a small, self-contained apartment.
I rolled my suitcase further in, and there was my new roommate. She was sitting on the couch, her back to me, humming something to herself as she lazily flipped through a magazine. The room was neat—borderline pristine—and it was clear from the get-go that my new roommate was the type who had everything in order. Every cushion was arranged just so, every magazine perfectly aligned on the coffee table.
Her eyes flicked up for a second when I walked in, and I immediately knew I was in for a treat. Her face twisted in disgust, as if she'd just caught a whiff of something rancid.
"Ugh," she muttered, barely even looking at me. "I didn't expect to get stuck with you."