The morning sun spilled through the dorm window, painting the room gold — except for the corner Ruby had claimed.
It was the only spot the light could never reach, and the shadows clung to her like an old friend.
The others were still half-asleep when Ruby suddenly sat upright and screamed—
"NO!"
The sound sliced through the quiet.
Harley and Miccah jolted awake. Ruby's tangled hair fell in dark waves to her waist, her chest heaving as though she'd just escaped a nightmare.
She rubbed her neck, dragging both hands through her hair before realizing four pairs of eyes were fixed on her.
"Oh… did I wake you?" Her voice came out small, polite — painfully calm. "I didn't mean to. Good morning."
No one answered. The silence was thick with suspicion.
Even when I try to hide, I'm still a threat, she thought, a sardonic smile ghosting her lips.
Ruby lightly slapped both cheeks, shaking off the remnants of the dream, then grabbed her towel and disappeared into the bathroom.
Minutes later, she emerged wrapped in a black towel and an oversized shirt. Damp hair tied up, skin pale and gleaming like moonlight.
"The room's free," she said simply, folding the towel with precise, practiced motions.
Sunlight brushed against her but stopped short, glinting off the glasses she slid on and the red detached sleeves she clipped in place — an odd mix of goth and rookie.
Sage scrunted her outfit with her eyes, that didn't make any sense, how could such a pure girl she claim to be easy put on a mix of goth and rookie so easily, also she didn't complain about the dark corner they set up her be if anything she seemed glad to be away from sunlight.
"Good luck with your first classes." A faint smile curved her lips before she stepped out.
Miccah blinked. "Did she just… wish us luck?"
Sage only smirked. "Something about that girl doesn't fit."
And in St. Heliera, anything that didn't fit was dangerous.
---
Outside, Ruby ignored the stares that followed her across the campus housing.
A cab screeched to a halt; she climbed in, muttered her destination, and when they reached the main gates of St. Heliera Academy, she reached for her purse — only for the cab to roar away before she could pay.
"Wait—! You forgot your money!" she called, waving the bills, but the driver was already gone.
She turned to face the academy.
Up close, St. Heliera looked less like a school and more like a battlefield.
Cracked walls. Graffiti over older graffiti. Students lounging in clusters like rival packs.
Girls fixed their makeup in mirror shards; boys prowled and heckled.
The air reeked of smoke, sweat, and sin.
Ruby's pulse quickened — not from fear, but anticipation.
Unknown danger… my favorite kind.
A group of boys near the gate blew smoke in her direction. She waved it away lazily.
Four out of ten for effort, she thought dryly. And this is what passes for quality now?
"Hey sweetheart, come here!"
"Be my queen! I'll keep you safe!"
She didn't even glance their way. Her silence was sharper than any insult.
Their laughter died as she walked past.
Then — a crash. Glass. A scream. Something heavy.
A shadow fell over her.
Instinct took control. Ruby reached out — and caught a falling body.
The girl in her arms was battered and bruised. Rope burns marred her wrists, and blood soaked her skirt. Her lips trembled as she whispered,
"I didn't want him… he forced me… I didn't want him…"
Ruby froze. The girl's eyes — familiar. Too familiar.
"…He forced you," Ruby finished quietly.
The girl blinked through tears, recognition flickering. A weak smile touched her lips.
"You… you came…"
Her voice broke off. Her hand slipped. Her eyes dulled.
Ruby didn't move. Didn't breathe.
Something inside her cracked — and power spilled out like ink.
The air thickened. Across campus, students went still as the weight of her aura rolled through the air. The sky darkened. Thunder rumbled. Then — rain. Sudden, violent, cold.
Ruby knelt there, the lifeless girl in her arms, staring into the storm.
Rain and tears blended, running down her face like silver threads.
Her energy spread wider, heavier — until even the walls of St. Heliera seemed to tremble.
For the first time in years, the academy itself felt fear.
---
Engines roared.
Two sleek black cars swerved into the lot, screeching to a halt.
Doors slammed open — and the atmosphere shifted.
A tall Caucasian man stepped out first, his black shirt half-unbuttoned, sleeves rolled to his elbows, diamond studs catching the light. Even half-covered, his biceps flexed like coiled steel. His trousers fit perfectly — every inch exuding power and danger.
The crowd collectively inhaled.
The King of Hell himself — Alexander Prince.
Beside him stood a tall beauty in tight crimson clothing that accentuated every curve.
Her hair fell in glossy waves, her arm looped possessively through his — Jessica, Alex's cousin.
And then, the last one emerged.
A woman with the same sharp features as Alexander, her beauty as devastating as it was effortless. Shorts, crop top, legs for days — confidence incarnate.
Everyone drew the same conclusion.
That overwhelming pressure — that power — had to be from them.
It couldn't possibly have come from the frail-looking girl still kneeling in the rain with a corpse in her arms.
But Ruby didn't move.
She just stood there, silent and still, letting the storm rage around her.
Ruby stood in the pouring rain, unmoved by the new arrivals whose mere presence made the crowd tremble.
She held the girl tighter, the world around her dissolving into nothing but the sound of rain and the faint warmth fading in her arms.
Time itself felt suspended — the storm beating against her skin, the girl's shallow breaths slipping away like smoke.
When she finally moved, it was slow, deliberate.
She walked through the rain toward the college security, each step echoing against the drenched pavement.
When she reached them, she handed the girl over without a word. Her gaze alone froze the men in place — cold, commanding, lethal.
"Take good care of her," Ruby said quietly. Her voice was calm, but beneath it was a warning sharp enough to draw blood.
Then she turned to leave.
But the girl's face clung to her mind — that faint smile of relief, the terror in her eyes, the bruises, the way her body had gone still in Ruby's arms.
She could still feel her warmth slipping away, the life fading against her hands.
Ruby had killed many — quickly, cleanly, without hesitation — but never an innocent.
Never had someone's death cut through her armor like this.
She didn't even know the girl, yet her heart had betrayed her. Her control had cracked. Her power had leaked.
And she hated that.
She stopped in the middle of the campus, clutching a handful of her wet hair, shoulders trembling.
Students halted mid-step.
Some whispered, thinking she was crying. Others speculated — was the dead girl related to her?
Then came the sound.
A low, dark chuckle.
It slithered from her throat, soft at first, then grew — deeper, harsher, until it became a sound that made spines crawl and hearts pound painfully against ribs.
It wasn't laughter. It was madness — a sound that crawled out of hell itself.
Ruby threw back her head, hair plastered to her face, and laughed — a raw, broken sound laced with grief and fury.
The very air seemed to vibrate.
Even the bravest students stumbled backward, pale and shaking.
Alexander, his twin Jackie, and Jessica froze in disbelief.
They had never heard anything like it — not from demons, not from assassins — a heartbroken laugh that carried the weight of death itself.
In the dorm window above, Sage and Luna stared, stunned into silence.
They had seen Ruby smile that morning, soft and almost human.
Now they couldn't even recognize her.
Abruptly, the laughter stopped.
Ruby's head tilted toward the sun that had just broken through the clouds. Steam rose from her soaked clothes.
She bent to pick up her bag — the one that had fallen when the girl dropped from above.
Her posture straightened. Her eyes cleared.
Her mission had not changed.
The heir to the White Dragon's throne — her prince — was here, somewhere within this chaotic school.
Only he held the key to her purpose.
Whatever had just happened was an interruption. A side dish.
Now she needed to find the murderer — the one who had dared to kill that girl.
The thought made her stomach twist.
She hated emotions — they clouded judgment, dulled instincts. She wasn't built to feel.
She was built to hunt.
Ruby slapped both cheeks sharply. The sound cracked through the still air like a gunshot.
Eyes followed her — wary, silent, reverent.
She lifted her gaze toward the blazing sun. Water dripped from her lashes, and for a moment her black pupils shimmered with a cold, unyielding resolve.
Then she walked forward — slow, steady, each step heavier, colder, deadlier than the last.
Alexander squinted through the rain, trying to see her face. Even with his sharp eyes, even in the storm, he couldn't make it out.
She never turned his way.
And so, the rumor began to spread.
The students who had witnessed the storm, the laughter, the crushing aura — they convinced themselves it couldn't have been her.
No frail girl could wield that kind of power.
It had to be Alexander.
The King of Hell.
After all, no one else could make St. Heliera tremble like that… could they?