#Sylver | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theforgottenhorcrux · 13 days ago

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KILLING,AN EXCUSE.

Hey hey, Part 2 of Killing an Excuse just dropped!! 🖤 If you like enemies-to-lovers, tension, and characters who make bad decisions, this one’s for you. 🤭 Big love to everyone reading, I’m 13 and still shook that people actually like my writing. Go check it out!! 👀🔥

HERES THE STORY:(CHECK OUT THE FIRST PART IF U HAVENT CUZ THIS IS THE CONTINUATION)

The tension in the hall was suffocating. Even with the steady march of AWC cadets following their morning routine, the presence of SWC students threw everything off balance. They walked our halls now, ate in our mess, trained on our fields. But the air between us was charged, filled with unspoken resentment and forced neutrality.

I had learned to ignore the way they stared at me. I was used to it by now—the weight of their gazes, the barely concealed scorn in their expressions. Let them glare. It made no difference to me.

But when I felt his eyes on me, I glanced up.

Valkyr stood at the other end of the corridor, his posture stiff, arms crossed over his chest. Everything about him screamed order, discipline—like he was holding himself together by sheer force of will. And the way he looked at me, like I was the cause of everything wrong in his life, was almost laughable. His uniform was crisp, boots polished to a mirror shine—because of course they were. I bet he shined them aggressively every morning while cursing my name. Probably talks to them-You’re the only things I can rely on now.

I met his glare head-on, raising an eyebrow in silent challenge.

He held my gaze for a moment longer before scoffing and turning away.

Coward.

I kept walking, weaving between students who barely noticed me. Unlike Valkyr, I had more important things to do than stand around brooding. Like attending strategy class, where I was sure to be placed against one of his people—again.

When I entered the room, the seating was already divided. SWC cadets on one side, AWC cadets on the other, like some unspoken rule dictated our arrangement. It was ridiculous.

I ignored it and took a seat near the middle. I wouldn’t play their games.

A moment later, Valkyr entered.

He barely hesitated before sitting right across from me.

Oh, this would be fun.

The instructor arrived seconds later, setting his materials down with an audible thud before surveying the room. "Today’s exercise is a simulation," he announced. "Each pair will be assigned a scenario requiring tactical coordination. Your objective is survival and mission success. Your partner is the person seated across from you."

I almost laugh.

I pulled up the assignment on my screen: *Stealth extraction behind enemy lines. Minimal resources. High risk.*

Valkyr exhaled sharply, shifting beside me. "Figures."

Ah. And so it begins.

"You’re awfully quiet, Sylver," he muttered. "Nothing to say? That’s a first."

I continued scrolling, scanning the map layout. Dense forest, low visibility, scattered enemy patrols.

"You’re not even going to acknowledge me?" His voice had an edge now.

Irritation. Good. Suffer.

"Is this your new strategy? Pretend I don’t exist?"

Correct.

A chair scraped against the floor. He was shifting, restless. "I don’t know why I expected anything different. Your people never take responsibility for what they’ve done."

I could engage. I could say something sharp, cut him down to size, get under his skin. But then I’d have to listen to him argue, and I valued my peace far more than I valued proving him wrong.

So, I scrolled.

The instructor’s voice cut through the air. "You’ll each be assigned a role. One of you leads infiltration, the other controls recon and extraction. Decide quickly."

"I’ll take infiltration," Valkyr snapped before I could even move.

I tapped the recon controls without a word.

His jaw clenched, like he wanted to fight me on it just for the sake of fighting. But there was nothing to argue over. I had made my decision. That was it.

The simulation began. The forest shadows deepened on the screen, enemy markers flickering into place.

I adjusted the comms settings and spoke into my headset, my voice neutral. "Signal when you’re in position."

Valkyr hesitated, like he wanted to say something else. Instead, he only muttered, "Copy that."

And then, blissful silence.

Minutes passed. Valkyr moved through the simulated undergrowth with perfect precision. Of course he did. Mister ‘Best of the Best’ wouldn’t dare make a mistake while I was watching. His ego would combust on the spot.

"I’m approaching the perimeter," he said.

"Mhm," I hummed, already tagging enemy positions and calculating the safest path. The AI was aggressive today—if he so much as breathed too hard, they’d hear him.

"Anything useful to report?" he asked.

"Don’t die."

He exhaled sharply, probably counting to ten so he wouldn’t throw his headset across the room. "Sylver—"

"Two sentries ahead. You need to move through the west treeline and wait for my signal. If you go now, you’ll be spotted, and then we’ll both get penalized. And personally, I don’t feel like spending the next hour listening to you complain about it."

Silence. Then, begrudgingly: "Copy that."

I smirked to myself. He could pretend all he wanted, but he knew I was right.

He moved west, keeping low. The sentries paced just ahead, their predictable routine making it easy to time his movement.

"Hold," I murmured, watching their patterns. "Wait… now. Go."

Valkyr slipped past them like a shadow.

Shame. I was almost hoping he’d mess up so I could say ‘I told you so.’

"I’m in position," he said a moment later. "Waiting for extraction orders."

I drummed my fingers against the desk, debating. I could do this by the book. Or…

A wicked idea took root. "Congratulations, you’re now officially bait."

"What?"

I muted my mic.

Best class ever.

Valkyr went completely silent on the comms. I imagined he was staring at his screen in barely-contained rage, jaw clenched, mentally composing my obituary.

"Sylver. What the hell does that mean?"

I unmuted. "It means you stay put and look pretty while I handle this."

"Oh, great. So I just sit here and wait for death? Fantastic plan."

"You always were a fast learner."

He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a death threat, but I ignored it, already rerouting the simulation’s parameters. The AI wouldn’t register him as an active threat unless he moved or engaged first. Meanwhile, I could send out a false signal mimicking enemy patrols nearby, forcing the sentries to reposition. A harmless trick, really.

Except Valkyr was now *technically* sitting in a high-risk zone.

Oops.

"Sentries are shifting north," I reported. "Stay exactly where you are."

"Because I have so many other options right now."

I watched the enemy icons adjust, spreading out just enough to create a gap in their formation. Perfect.

"Alright, golden boy. Your path is clear in five seconds. Move southeast toward the riverbed and *for the love of all things holy*, do not step on anything loud."

His silence stretched for a second too long, which meant he was glaring. *Valkyr Glare #47: Utter Disgust.*

Then he moved.

It was unfair, really. The way he slipped through the brush like he belonged to the terrain itself. Even under the dim simulation lighting, there was an effortless sharpness to his movements—a seamless combination of speed and control. He didn’t run. He *commanded* the space around him. Like the battlefield had been made for him.

*Disgusting.*

The moment he reached the riverbed, I activated another false patrol signal to keep the sentries distracted.

"Alright, extraction point is three clicks east. You have a window of—"

A gunshot rang out.

I froze. My screen flickered red.

“Adrian?”

No response.

*Oh, you have got to be kidding me.*

I scanned the simulation logs—no direct hit, but he’d been spotted. A whole squad was now moving in his direction, weapons hot. His marker blinked, repositioning erratically.

Then, finally— "I’m fine."

"Oh, are you? Because the kill report says otherwise. What did you do, trip over your own ego?"

"Took a ricochet. Non-fatal. But now we have company."

I sucked in a breath, rapidly adjusting our extraction plan. *I* could still slip out clean. But Valkyr? Not unless I did something stupid.

Which meant I was absolutely about to do something stupid.

I exhaled. "Alright, Valkyr. New plan. Try to keep up."

And then I sent out a new distress signal—one that made it look like the entire enemy squad was under attack from a third party. If I timed it right, I could redirect their fire elsewhere and buy us a window.

Valkyr let out a sharp breath. "I swear to God, Sylver, if you get us both killed—"

"Relax, Valkyr. Dying in a fake simulation isn’t real death. It’s just embarrassing."

Silence. Then, through gritted teeth—"Just tell me what to do."

I smirked. "Now, *that’s* more like it."

And with that, I pulled him into the absolute mess of a strategy I had just created.

---

The squad’s response was immediate. Gunfire erupted in the distance, the AI reacting exactly as I’d planned. The enemy markers on my screen shifted, some breaking off to deal with the phantom threat I had fabricated.

Valkyr bolted east, movements precise, his dark silhouette cutting through the terrain like a blade through silk. He moved like he was sculpted for this—shoulders squared, stride controlled, even his breath steady despite the chaos around him. *Infuriating.*

"How long until they figure out you just pulled that out of thin air?" he asked.

"Oh, I don’t know, maybe thirty seconds? You should run faster."

He let out a low, venomous curse but didn’t argue. I watched, fingers hovering over the controls, fully prepared to improvise again if needed.

"You’re getting close to the extraction point," I murmured, eyes scanning his trajectory. "Except, uh—small problem."

"What now?"

"There’s a sniper about forty meters ahead. Waiting."

A sharp inhale. "You knew and you didn’t tell me sooner?"

"I was enjoying the suspense."

"I am going to kill you."

"Not if he kills you first."

His marker stilled for a split second, and I knew he was fighting the overwhelming urge to turn around and fight *me* instead of the actual enemy. But to his credit, he adjusted immediately. "Can you distract him?"

"What do I look like, a magician?" I huffed.

“But you do look like you were made from magic.” He mumbles.

I look back so damn quickly I might have actually twisted my subclavian artery-and I’m not even kidding. What the actual fuck just happened? Did dinosaurs come back to life or something?

But all I reply with is-“Fine. Give me three seconds."

I overloaded the simulation’s environmental settings, triggering a sudden burst of simulated wind and dust across the field. The sniper’s scope would be compromised just long enough for Valkyr to move.

"Go. Now."

He did. Silent, efficient. The sniper didn’t even have time to adjust before Valkyr was already out of range. I leaned back, triumphant.

"And that is how you cheat the system."

Valkyr’s voice was dangerously low. "I don’t cheat."

"Right. You just benefit from my creative genius."

"I hate you."

"Mm-hm. Extraction point is twenty meters ahead. Sprint for it. Unless you want to stay here and discuss your feelings."

A strangled sound came through the comms, followed by rapid movement. Valkyr reached the extraction just as enemy reinforcements swarmed the area. Too late. He was already out.

The screen flashed: *MISSION SUCCESS.*

I stretched, utterly pleased with myself. "You’re welcome."

Valkyr ripped off his headset and turned toward me, expression murderous. The artificial light caught on the sharp angles of his face, the glint of his storm-dark eyes cutting through me with the precision of a well-aimed dagger. Ugh. Even furious, he looked like he walked straight out of some war god’s personal playbook. Unacceptable.

"You—"

"—am a genius? I know. No need to get emotional."

His hands clenched into fists, knuckles white. "You nearly got me killed—"

"Again," I corrected. "And again, you didn’t die. Look at all this character growth."

His jaw tightened. He looked like he wanted to hurl a chair at me.

The instructor cleared his throat. "Excellent work. Despite the, uh… unconventional approach, your coordination was effective."

Valkyr scoffed. I beamed.

"Alright, next pair—" the instructor started, but I was already tuning him out.

Valkyr glared at me. "This isn’t over."

I deadpan, "I sure hope not. This is way too much fun."

And with that, I walked off, feeling his scowl burn into my burn behind my back

The next class was worse.

Not because of Valkyr. For once, he wasn’t even my problem. He’d stalked off after our simulation match, probably to go punch a wall or re-evaluate all his life choices. I would’ve loved to say that meant peace for me, but unfortunately, my luck wasn’t that kind.

Instead, I got stuck in a tactical debriefing with an SWC officer who had the personality of wet cardboard and the patience of a short-circuited training bot.

"Sylver, can you attempt to take this seriously?" Lieutenant Raines droned, adjusting his data pad like he was holding the entire fate of the war in his hands.

"Oh, I am serious," I said. "Seriously questioning my will to live, but serious nonetheless."

A few snickers broke out from the AWC cadets in the room, but Raines’ face remained stiff. "We are analyzing strategy. Your reckless methods—"

"—won us the mission," I interrupted. "Oh, sorry, successfully won us the mission. Almost forgot that little detail."

Raines exhaled through his nose, the universal sign of a man regretting all his choices that led to this moment. "You cannot rely on improvisation. Good strategy is about control. Precision. Discipline."

"I *was* precise," I countered. "I was *so* precise that I knew exactly how much chaos was needed to make them think they were being attacked by ghosts. And it worked."

Raines pinched the bridge of his nose like he had a migraine forming. "The point, Cadet Sylver, is that you are not the only one in these operations. Others have to rely on you. And if you’re constantly unpredictable, you become a liability."

I hummed, tilting my head. "So what you’re saying is, if I were predictable, I’d be easier to kill."

"That’s *not*—"

"Great! Glad we settled that." I stretched my arms behind my head, grinning. "Any other life lessons, or are we done?"

Raines looked like he was debating throwing me out a window.

"Dismissed," he finally bit out.

I took my victory and walked out, ignoring the glares from the SWC side. Honestly, if they wanted me to be polite, they should’ve picked a different war.

I made it halfway down the hall before I felt the familiar prickle of someone watching me.

Valkyr? No. His brand of fury was *louder*. This was something else.

I turned the corner casually—only to catch a flicker of movement near the stairwell. A figure in an SWC uniform, watching me just a second too long before disappearing into the lower levels.

Oh, *interesting*.

I smiled to myself.

Something was brewing. And for once, it wasn’t just Valkyr’s personal hatred for me.

Time to find out what it was.

I adjusted my posture, letting my shoulders relax into something that looked casual, unconcerned. Then I changed direction, slipping down the stairwell after my mystery observer. My boots barely made a sound against the metal steps as I descended, ears tuned for any sign of movement.

The lower levels of the academy were quieter, the air cooler. This wasn’t just another SWC cadet taking a shortcut. They had come down here for a reason.

A reason I wanted to know.

I caught another glimpse of them just as they turned a corner—a sharp movement, too quick, too deliberate. They knew I was following. Good. That made it more fun.

I moved faster.

The hallway was dim, the emergency lights lining the walls casting a dull glow over steel and concrete. The figure ahead hesitated, just for a second, before darting through a side door. I followed without hesitation.

The door shut behind me with a soft *click.*

My instincts screamed, but I was already moving, twisting to the side just as something swung for my head. A baton cracked against the doorframe where I’d been standing a second ago.

Oh, so this wasn’t just a little secret meeting. This was an ambush.

I grinned, adrenaline spiking. "Well, that’s rude."

My attacker—an SWC cadet, taller than me, stronger, but not faster—didn’t respond. They lunged again, baton aiming for my ribs this time. I ducked, shifted my weight, and drove my elbow into their gut. They staggered, but not enough.

I had so many questions, but those could wait until after I won this fight.

Because if someone thought they could take me out in a dark hallway, they had severely underestimated me.

I twisted, dodging another strike, then caught their wrist mid-swing. A sharp yank and a well-placed kick sent them stumbling back. They recovered fast—trained, experienced—but not fast enough. I surged forward, slamming them into the wall, forearm pressing against their throat just hard enough to make a point.

"So," I panted, grinning. "Are we doing this the fun way, or the easy way?"

The cadet struggled, eyes darting toward the exit. Not happening. I tightened my grip.

"Who sent you?"

They didn’t answer. Just glared, jaw clenched. Loyal. Or scared. Both were annoying. Undisciplined dinosaur, though this one was an insult to dinosaurs itself.

Footsteps echoed down the hall.

Backup? I wasn’t about to stick around and find out.

With one last shove, I sent the cadet sprawling and took off the way I came, slipping into the shadows before reinforcements arrived.

One thing was clear: someone had plans for me.

And I intended to find out exactly what they were.

I slipped through the corridors, blending into the flickering shadows, my silver jewelry catching just enough light to glint like a warning. A reminder—I wasn’t just some cadet to be cornered. I was Virelia Sylver. And if someone wanted to play games, I was more than happy to make them regret it.

Something told me this was only the beginning.

The academy corridors were a maze, but I knew them better than most. I walked with an uneven rhythm—one moment quick, the next slow, unpredictable. Let them try to track me. If someone managed? They deserved a round of applause before I punched them in the throat.

Alright, let’s talk about the little ambush back there. Not an execution. If they wanted me dead, I wouldn’t have had a chance to fight back. So, intimidation? A warning? Which meant someone thought I was dangerous enough to need one.

*Adorable.*

Still, the fact that SWC had people *watching* me—*acting* against me—meant this wasn’t just the usual academy rivalries. This wasn’t just *ugh, AWC cadets are the worst* level of hatred. No, this was personal. Someone, somewhere, wanted me to be afraid.

*Cute.*

I took the stairs two at a time, slipping into a maintenance corridor—dimly lit, quiet. *Perfect.* I think better in shadows.

Let’s be clear: Raines wouldn’t pull something like this. He hated me, sure, but he was too by-the-book. So that left a cadet. Or maybe an officer with fewer morals and a bigger ego. Someone with something to lose. Or something to prove.

I needed intel. And I knew exactly where to get it.

See, the academy had places where people *thought* they could talk without being overheard. It also had places for people who *knew* how to listen without being seen. Guess which category I fell into?

The lower west wing had a lounge. Officially? A communal space for cadets. *Unofficially*? Where idiots whispered about things they shouldn’t. If my little baton-happy attacker had friends, I was betting good credits they’d show up there.

So, I went.

Kept to the shadows. Stepped inside. Grabbed a drink (hydration is key, people). Settled into a corner, looking like just another exhausted cadet unwinding. Nothing to see here. Definitely not eavesdropping.

Minutes passed. Then a few more.

And then—

A trio of SWC cadets entered, hushed voices, tight expressions. Bingo. One of them? My would-be assailant. The others? Unfamiliar, but clearly part of the *Let’s Take Down Sylver* fan club.

I didn’t look. Just listened.

“Did you get her?”

“No,” my attacker muttered. “She was *faster* than expected.”

I smiled. Damn right I was.

“Then we have a problem,” the third one grumbled. “If she figures out who’s behind this—”

“She won’t,” my attacker snapped. “She won’t have the time.”

Oh. *Interesting.* This wasn’t just a warning. This was *step one* of something bigger. Which begged the question—

*What exactly did I just step into?*

I reached into my pocket, fingers brushing over a small device—a signal tracker, modified to pick up encrypted SWC frequencies. Not standard issue, but when have I ever played by the rules? Set it to scan. Let it do its thing.

Ping. A coded message bouncing between private channels.

I looked up just as the cadets shifted, waiting for someone.

And then—

A fourth figure entered. Not a cadet. An officer. Crisp uniform. Unreadable expression. The trio straightened like trained dogs. I didn’t recognize them, but they had that *presence*. The kind that makes people shut up and listen.

“You were seen. That was sloppy.”

“It won’t happen again,” my attacker muttered.

“It better not.” The officer’s gaze darkened. “If Sylver starts digging, she’ll find more than she should. We don’t have time for interference.”

Oh.

My pulse jumped, but I didn’t let it show. This wasn’t just a grudge. This wasn’t petty rivalry. This was something *bigger*.

And suddenly, I thought of my mother.

The clipped words. The disapproving silence. The way she looked at me like I was a mistake she regretted but wouldn’t admit to. The way she *always* knew more than she let on.

If SWC had plans that involved me, there was a nonzero chance she was tangled in them. Because if there was one thing I knew about my mother, it was this:

She hated when I was in the way.

My grip tightened around my glass.

Alright, then. Now I was interested.

I slipped the signal tracker into my sleeve and rose to my feet, casual, unhurried. I had what I needed.

And if they thought I was just going to let this go?

They didn’t know me at all.

Time to start hunting.

The academy corridors blurred past as I moved, my mind already pulling threads, unraveling the mess I’d just stumbled into. This wasn’t a scuffle. This wasn’t cadet drama. This was bigger—and it had layers I hadn’t even begun to peel back.

Which meant I had work to do.

I slipped through the hallways, steps light, breathing steady. No one stopped me. No one even noticed. I was good at that—existing just outside of focus, in the space between glances. Let them think I was heading back to my dorm, retreating to lick my wounds. Let them think I was shaken.

They wanted to play games? Fine.

I’d play back.

But first—I needed leverage.

The tracker nestled against my wrist vibrated. I glanced at the small screen. The signal had moved. Not far. Still in the west wing, but higher up. *A private office?*

Perfect.

I cut through a side corridor, taking the maintenance route that most cadets overlooked. One turn. Another. Then I was climbing, the narrow stairwell swallowing me whole. The signal pulsed, steady, unwavering. Whatever was happening, it hadn’t ended yet.

Good.

I reached the upper level, pressing against the wall as I scanned the hallway. Empty. No cameras—not here. This part of the building had been repurposed so many times that half the surveillance network hadn’t caught up.

Their mistake.

I crept forward, keeping close to the shadows, steps measured. The tracker guided me to a door—marked, locked, but locks could be picked, and I’d had practice. One glance over my shoulder. Then I was working, small tools slipping from my sleeve, fingers steady despite the electric buzz in my veins.

Click.

I eased the door open, stepping inside.

Dim light. Paperwork scattered across the desk. A holo-screen still active, messages blinking. But it was the emblem on the datapad that made my pulse spike.

SWC Intelligence.

Fuck.

I moved fast, slipping the datapad into my jacket. No time to skim. I needed to be gone before someone checked in. The signal tracker vibrated again—someone was moving. Getting closer.

*Shit.*

No hesitation. I pivoted, scanning the room—there. An air vent, half-covered by a shelving unit. Cramped, but I’d squeezed into worse. I hauled myself up, pressing into the narrow space just as the door hissed open.

Footsteps. Controlled. Measured.

I held my breath.

A voice—low, sharp.

“She was here.”

Silence. Then, the sound of a chair scraping back. A slow exhale.

“If she has that datapad, we’re compromised.”

Another voice, colder. *Familiar.*

“She won’t get far.”

A pause. A shift in weight. And then—

“I’ll handle Sylver.”

I didn’t need to see their face to know who it was.

Adrian.

My stomach twisted—not in fear. Not even in anger. Just a sharp, cutting edge of something. He was in this. Tied up in whatever web SWC was weaving.

And now?

I was his next target.

I bit down a grin.

Good luck, Valkyr.

I stayed still, pressed into the narrow confines of the vent. The room below remained silent for a moment, tension settling like a blade against the throat of the conversation.

Then, Valkyr exhaled sharply. “We should’ve taken her out when we had the chance.”

A scoff. The first voice again. “That’s not the directive. Not yet.”

Not yet.

I forced my breathing to stay even. My grip tightened against the cool metal beneath me. This wasn’t just about rivalries or grudges. This was controlled. Planned. And I had a sinking feeling I was already running out of time.

Footsteps again. A rustle of fabric. “What’s our next move?”

A pause. Then Valkyr’s voice, firm and unreadable. “We tighten the net. Cut off her options. She’s alone, and we keep her that way. No allies. No escape.”

I almost laughed. No escape? Cute.

The door hissed open again, and their footsteps retreated. I waited. Counted the seconds. Thirty. Sixty. Ninety. Then, carefully, I shifted, easing out of the vent as quietly as I’d entered. My boots hit the floor without a sound.

Alone. No allies. No escape.

We’d see about that.

I pulled the datapad from my jacket, fingers moving quickly over the interface, bypassing the first security layer with ease. If SWC had a plan, then I needed to know exactly what it was.

Because Valkyr had just declared war.

And I never lost.

Alright, so let’s talk about what just happened.

I stole a datapad. That part was easy. I may have also crawled through a vent like some kind of gremlin, but let’s not dwell on that. The important part? SWC had a plan. A whole-ass operation. And apparently, I was on their radar.

Which, okay, fine. I piss people off all the time. That’s not new. But this? This was *organized*.

And then there’s the fact that I wasn’t the only name in the files.

No Raines. No Valkyr. Just me, alone, circled in red like I was some kind of anomaly.

And beneath my name? One simple phrase, typed with all the subtlety of a death warrant:

*“Containment required.”*

Containment. Not elimination. Not surveillance.

Containment.

Now, I don’t know about you, but I’d rather be on an execution list. At least then, I’d know exactly where I stood. But this? This was *weirder*.

I scrolled deeper. Security restrictions. Movement patterns. Places I went, people I interacted with. And one section, locked behind a code I couldn’t crack—not yet.

Which meant one thing:

SWC wasn’t just tracking me.

They were *waiting* for something.

And that? That was worse.

So. New game plan:

1. Find out what SWC thinks they know about me.

2. Figure out why they haven’t moved yet.

3. Make sure I move first.

Oh, and—

4. If Valkyr so much as *breathes* in my direction, remind him that his problems? *Are not my problems*.

Let’s see how long I can stick to that last one.

I closed the datapad, my pulse steady despite the twisting in my gut. There was only one place that had the security clearance I needed to unlock that file.

The command center.

Yeah. Not exactly a casual stroll. That place was locked down tighter than a vault, monitored, restricted to officers and top-level personnel. But I had an advantage: I was already in trouble. Which meant? Nothing to lose.

I exhaled slowly, my mind shifting gears. If I was going to break in, I’d need a distraction. Something big enough to pull security away from the control room, but not big enough to put the academy on full lockdown.

Cue the fire suppression system.

A little override here, a bit of misdirection there, and suddenly half the officers would be scrambling to deal with a non-existent emergency. The rest? Hopefully too busy dealing with whatever SWC's latest manufactured crisis was to notice me slipping in where I didn’t belong.

I didn’t waste time. Moving quickly, I navigated the corridors, ducking past patrols, slipping through maintenance halls, every step calculated. Every movement precise.

And then—

A voice. Right behind me.

“Tell me you’re not this stupid.”

Valkyr.

Of course it was Valkyr.

I turned, slowly, meeting his gaze with a flat look. “That depends. Define ‘stupid.’”

His expression didn’t change. Sharp. Unamused. But there was something else there, something colder than usual.

“You’re making it worse for yourself,” he said.

I scoffed. “Oh, please. If I were trying to make it worse, I’d have set an actual fire.”

His jaw tightened. “You think this is a joke?”

“No, Valkyr, I think this is none of your business.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re on their watchlist. They won’t just let this slide.”

“Yeah?” I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “Then maybe you should ask them why.”

Something flickered across his face—too quick to catch. But I saw it. Doubt. Curiosity. Maybe even something close to concern.

Not that it mattered.

Because I wasn’t about to stop.

And if he got in my way?

Well. He’d find out exactly why SWC thought I needed containing.

I stepped past him, but he caught my wrist—fast, firm. Too firm.

I glared at him. “Valkyr.”

His grip didn’t loosen. And in the dim light of the corridor, I saw it—the way the sharp angles of his face caught the glow, the way his eyes weren’t just dark, but something deeper, something that saw too much. Like the edge of a blade right before it cut. Unyielding. Controlled. Too perfect, in a way that made my teeth clench.

He wasn’t just good-looking. He was unfairly good-looking. The kind of sharp, chiseled beauty that belonged on war posters or in the kind of holo-dramas that pretended battle was poetic. He looked like a threat. Like something designed to be untouchable.

And yet, here he was, touching me.

“Don’t,” he said quietly.

I yanked my arm free. “Then move.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t step aside. “Whatever’s in that file, Sylver—it’s not worth this.”

I exhaled sharply, amusement curling at the edge of my voice. “Oh, see, that’s where you’re wrong.”

Then I turned on my heel and walked away.

And this time, he let me go.

I didn’t look back as I moved. No hesitation, no second-guessing. The plan was already set in motion. The fire suppression override was primed. In approximately two minutes, half the security team would be losing their minds over a nonexistent blaze. The other half? Busy dealing with whatever else SWC was cooking up.

Which left me with a tiny, precious window to work with.

I ducked into a side corridor, pulse steady, fingers flexing at my sides. I was good at this. The sneaking, the improvising. The quiet, razor-sharp focus that came with knowing one wrong move could unravel everything. It was almost comforting.

Or, well, it *would* have been—if not for the distinct, heavy presence shadowing my every step.

I exhaled through my nose. “Valkyr, if you’re gonna stalk me, at least *try* to be subtle.”

Silence. Then—

“I’m not stalking you.”

I turned a corner, barely sparing him a glance as he followed, his steps too measured, too composed. “Oh, sure. You just happen to be tailing me down restricted hallways *right* after telling me not to do something reckless. That makes sense.”

His jaw twitched. “You are reckless.”

“Yeah? And yet I’m still alive.”

“For now.”

I grinned, sharp and humorless. “Wow. Comforting.”

He didn’t reply. But I could *feel* the tension radiating off him, taut and coiled, like a wire about to snap. It was almost *palpable*—this thing between us, whatever the hell it was. Not quite hatred, not quite understanding. Just heat and friction and something dangerously close to obsession.

I reached the junction that split off toward the command center. Stopped just short of rounding the corner. This was the riskiest part—the final stretch, the part where mistakes meant getting thrown into a containment cell.

I felt him step in behind me, too close, too steady. I could practically *hear* the way he breathed, the way his gaze bored into the side of my face like he was trying to unravel me piece by piece.

“I don’t know what you think you’re going to find,” he murmured, low and edged with something I couldn’t place.

I turned my head slightly, meeting his eyes—dark, fathomless. He was close enough that I caught the faint scent of him, sharp and clean, like cold metal and something vaguely like cedar. Like the kind of thing that lingers, unwanted, long after it’s gone.

“Neither do I,” I admitted. “But that’s the fun part, isn’t it?”

His lips parted slightly, but whatever he was about to say was lost as—

The fire alarms blared to life.

I grinned. “Showtime.”

And then I moved, slipping into the chaos like a shadow, leaving him behind before he could stop me.

But I knew, even without looking, that he was watching.

That he would *always* be watching.

And for the first time, I wondered if maybe—just maybe—I wanted him to.

The command center was locked down tighter than I’d anticipated. Security doors engaged, biometric scans active, the whole you shall not pass setup.

Annoying.Weird dinosaurs…

I crouched behind a pillar, fingers flicking through the stolen datapad. Somewhere in here was the weak point, the chink in the armor that would let me slip inside undetected.

Footsteps. Sharp, deliberate. Not panicked like the officers scrambling to deal with the fire alarm—no, these were different.

Familiar.

I glanced up just as Valkyr’s shadow stretched over me.

“You have exactly ten seconds to tell me what the hell you’re doing,” he said, voice low, dangerous.

I sighed dramatically. “Ugh. Stalking me again? This is getting unhealthy, Valkyr.”

His expression didn’t shift, but his jaw tightened, the muscle there flexing like he was barely restraining himself from throttling me.

“If you trip the wrong alarm,” he said, voice like cut glass, “they won’t contain you. They’ll bury you.”

I tilted my head, considering him. “And yet, you’re not turning me in.”

Something flickered in his gaze—frustration, conflict, something deeper, something he wasn’t ready to admit.

“I should,” he said finally.

“But you won’t.”

A muscle jumped in his jaw. He hated that I was right. Hated that, for some reason neither of us wanted to name, he wasn’t dragging me out of here in cuffs.

I smirked. “Must be exhausting, being you.”

“I could say the same for you.”

For a moment, we just looked at each other. The air between us was thick, humming, something charged and volatile.

And then I turned back to the screen, fingers moving fast. “Well, since you’re here, might as well make yourself useful.”

He exhaled sharply, but didn’t move away.

Didn’t leave.

And if I wasn’t careful, I might start wondering if I liked that.

And then, in the space of a breath, he moved. Too fast, too smooth—one second he was a few feet away, the next he was crowding me against the pillar, hand braced beside my head, his body a wall of tension and quiet, unshakable fury.

I blinked up at him, unimpressed. “Really? The whole looming intimidation thing? Cute.”

“You think this is a game.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried enough weight to sink.

I arched a brow. “Not my fault you’re bad at playing.”

His jaw clenched. “You don’t get it.”

“Oh, I get it perfectly.” I leaned in slightly, just to see if he’d flinch. He didn’t. “You think you’ve got me figured out, but you don’t, Valkyr. You never have.”

His eyes flickered. I had his attention. Good.

But then his gaze dropped—just for a fraction of a second. To my lips.

The air between us went razor-thin.

A muscle ticked in his jaw as he forced himself to look away, stepping back like the space between us had burned him.

“Stay out of this, Sylver.”

I tilted my head. “Not a chance.”

He exhaled, sharp and frustrated, and then he was gone, disappearing into the shadows like he hadn’t just looked at me like I was the problem he’d never be able to solve.

I rolled my shoulders, turned back to my datapad, and smirked to myself.

This was getting interesting.

The moment Valkyr vanished into the shadows, I exhaled and refocused. The biometric scans were a problem. A big one. But not impossible.

I tapped into the datapad, fingers flying. A restricted systems breach was out of the question—too many fail-safes. But I didn’t need full access. Just a crack. A sliver of opportunity.

A name popped up in the security logs. Lieutenant Kalen Myros. Scheduled for command duty. Meaning his clearance was valid. Meaning all I had to do was borrow it.

Myros had a habit of leaving his ID badge in his locker. He also had a habit of being a complete idiot.

Slipping through the chaos, I made my way toward the officer’s quarters. Most of security was still occupied with the fire suppression override, and those that weren’t were too busy shouting orders at each other to notice me.

I reached the lockers. The biometric locks were engaged, but I’d broken into worse. A few keystrokes, a well-placed signal jammer, and—click. The door slid open.

Myros’s ID rested inside, right where I expected it. I swiped it and turned—only to stop dead.

Ah. Fantastic.

Captain Orlan Vestrov. Head of security. The kind of man who could smell deception the way sharks smelled blood in the water.

His stare pinned me in place. “I don’t recall authorizing you to be in here.”

I forced a smile. “Must be a mix-up.”

His gaze flicked to the open locker, to Myros’s ID card in my hand. Then, back to me.

“Right,” he said flatly. “A mix-up.”

My pulse remained steady, but my mind ran a thousand calculations. Vestrov was sharp, but everyone had a weakness.

I just had to find his before he found mine.

By the time I reached the command center, security was catching up. The fire alarms were overridden. The chaos was starting to settle.

Not great.

I swiped Myros’s ID and slipped inside. The room was dimly lit, walls lined with active data feeds. Rows of consoles glowed in the dark, humming with restricted transmissions and classified files.

Jackpot.

I moved quickly, scanning for what I needed. Deep beneath encryption layers, something unusual blinked on the screen—a hidden directive, an unlisted transmission loop. The data was fragmented, incomplete, but one phrase burned bright:

AWC INTERFERENCE CONFIRMED. ASSET COMPROMISED.

My fingers froze.

Interference. Compromised assets. That wasn’t just bureaucratic nonsense. That was the kind of language people disappeared over.

This wasn’t just about me. Or even about SWC. This was bigger.

Much bigger.

Before I could dig deeper, a noise outside made my stomach drop. Not an alarm. Not shouting.

Boots. Heavy. Deliberate.

Vestrov’s voice carried through the hallway, low and cutting. “Lock it down. If anyone is inside, I want them in restraints.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

I yanked the data onto a drive, palmed it, and bolted toward maintenance access. The walls were closing in, alarms flashing. No backup, no second chances. Just me, my wits, and the unshakable certainty that if I got caught, I was royally screwed.

But if I got out?

Then I had the leverage to blow this entire operation to hell.

The emergency hatch loomed ahead, but I was out of time. A shadow moved in the periphery—one of Vestrov’s men, too close, too fast. I spun, barely ducking as an arm shot out to grab me. Pivoting sharply, I drove my elbow into his ribs, making him stagger.

Not enough. He recovered, lunging again.

I twisted, using my momentum to hook a leg behind his knee, sending him crashing into the wall. The impact sent a monitor clattering to the floor. Too loud.

Shit.

The hallway outside erupted in motion. More footsteps. More voices. Vestrov barking orders. No time.

I dove for the hatch, fingers skimming the keypad. It blinked red—denied. **Biometric access required.**

The sound of boots pounded closer. I had seconds. Maybe less.

I sucked in a breath and pressed Myros’s stolen ID to the scanner. Nothing. **Not authorized.**

Fine. I went for Plan G.

Ripping a concealed knife from my sleeve, I jammed it into the panel’s casing, pried it open, and severed the security wire in one clean slice.

The hatch hissed.

I didn’t waste time celebrating. I dropped through the opening just as the door to the command center burst open. Vestrov’s snarl of frustration was the last thing I heard before the hatch sealed shut above me.

I hit the ground rolling, heart hammering as I took stock. A dark maintenance tunnel stretched ahead, damp and humming with old machinery. No alarms. No pursuit. Yet.

I exhaled, catching my breath, and let a smirk tug at my lips.

They’d locked down the upper levels. But they’d forgotten something crucial.

I was already below them.

And if there was one thing I knew how to do—it was find my way through the cracks.

---

The tunnels stretched out before me, a labyrinth of forgotten corridors and rusted infrastructure. The kind of place security barely paid attention to. Which meant I had room to breathe.

For now.

I needed to get this drive decrypted, fast. But that required resources I didn’t have here. A contact. A safe space. Something away from prying eyes.

A familiar name surfaced in my thoughts. Someone who owed me. Someone who wouldn’t ask questions.

I adjusted my grip on the drive and started moving.

Time to call in a favor.

The tunnels spat me out three levels down, near an old cargo bay that hadn’t seen use in years. The place reeked of rust and oil, but it was quiet—exactly what I needed. I pulled my comm from my belt, encrypting the frequency before dialing in the one person who still owed me a favor.

A second passed. Then another. Then—

“...Who the hell is this?”

I smirked. “You sound grumpier than usual, Jax.”

A heavy sigh crackled through the line. “Goddammit, Virelia. I told you I’m retired.”

“And I told you I’d collect eventually.” I glanced back toward the tunnels, ensuring no one had followed. “Guess what? It’s eventually.”

Silence. Then a muttered curse. “What do you need?”

“Secure terminal. No traces. No questions.”

Jax exhaled, long and frustrated. “You’re in deep, aren’t you?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

I hesitated. Not because I didn’t trust Jax—he’d saved my ass enough times to earn that. But because saying it aloud made it real. AWC Interference Confirmed. Asset Compromised. I could already feel the noose tightening.

“Meet me at Dock 13,” I said instead. “Fifteen minutes.”

Another sigh. “You’re a pain in my ass, Virelia.”

“You love me for it.”

The call cut out, but I knew he’d come.

Dock 13 was deserted when I arrived. The overhead lights flickered, barely illuminating the rust-streaked walls. A perfect meeting spot—forgotten, overlooked, and most importantly, hard to surveil.

Jax arrived ten minutes later, draped in a worn-out jacket and a scowl. “You look like hell,” he said by way of greeting.

“Flatter me more, why don’t you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Give me the drive.”

I handed it over, watching as he plugged it into a portable decryptor. The screen flickered, parsing through layers of encryption faster than I could’ve hoped. Jax might’ve been retired, but he hadn’t lost his touch.

Then his expression darkened. “Virelia… where the hell did you get this?”

My stomach twisted. “What do you see?”

He turned the screen toward me. The decrypted file scrolled with redacted reports, names blacked out, locations scrubbed. But one phrase stood out, clear as day:

PRIMARY OBJECTIVE: ELIMINATION.

My throat went dry. “Who?”

Jax tapped the screen. A single, unredacted name appeared beneath the directive.

Mine.

My pulse slammed against my ribs, but my voice stayed level. “Well. That’s inconvenient.”

Jax’s jaw clenched. “Virelia, this isn’t just a bounty. This is a government-sanctioned kill order. AWC and SWC both signed off. Someone high up wants you gone.”

I stared at the screen. At the proof that I was already dead on paper. The kind of order that didn’t get revoked. The kind that ended with a body—mine—left in some ditch, unmarked and forgotten.

Jax rubbed a hand over his face. “We need to get you off-world. Now.”

I exhaled slowly, locking my emotions away. Fear was useless. Panic was useless. The only thing that mattered was surviving.

“Not yet,” I said.

Jax snapped his head up. “What?”

“I’m not running.” I met his gaze, steel in my voice. “I want to know who signed that order. And then I want to return the favor.”

Jax muttered another curse, but I saw the shift in his expression. He knew me well enough to understand. There was no talking me out of this.

“Fine,” he muttered. “But if we’re doing this, we do it my way.”

I smirked. “You always say that.”

“And you never listen,” he grumbled, already pulling up secure channels. “Let’s get to work.”

We worked fast. Jax ran silent decryption loops, stripping the file layer by layer while I kept an eye on the security feeds. Dock 13 was still clear, but that wouldn’t last. Not with a kill order hanging over me like a noose.

“This is taking too long,” I muttered, pacing.

Jax didn’t look up. “It’s military-grade encryption. Be grateful I’m even getting through it.”

I checked the time. I had classes soon—ones I couldn’t afford to miss. Not if I wanted to maintain my cover.

“Send me whatever you have in five minutes,” I ordered. “I have to move.”

Jax’s fingers flew over the keys. “Where?”

“Class.”

He stared at me like I’d lost my mind. “You have a kill order and you’re worried about class?”

I grabbed my bag, tucking my weapons into concealed pockets. “I keep my routine. No sudden changes. That’s how I stay alive.”

He swore under his breath but didn’t argue. The decryptor beeped as it pulled up a partial log—names, locations, a link to a high-clearance document.

I snatched my datapad. “Send the rest when it’s done. I’ll be in touch.”

“Virelia—”

I was already gone.

I barely made it to class on time. The moment I slid into my seat, the final chime echoed through the hall, signaling the start of the lecture. Keeping my expression neutral, I flicked on my console and opened a blank screen, pretending to take notes while my mind worked a mile a minute.

Jax had sent over a partial log, decrypted just enough to give me names. Locations. And one signature that stood out above the rest.

Orlan Vestrov.

I kept my breathing steady, my hands relaxed. The bastard who had nearly caught me in the command center wasn’t just looking for me—he’d signed the kill order himself.

My jaw tightened, but I forced myself to focus. I couldn’t react. Not here. Not yet.

The lecture dragged, but eventually, it was over. And that’s when the real headache started.

The SWC exchange program was in full swing, and as part of the stupidest idea the administration had ever had, each student was assigned a “partner” to show around the campus.

And my partner was the personification of questionable morals.

Cassian Wolfe.A guy from the Solstice War College.

He wasn’t Adrian. No, Cassian was something else entirely—too much of everything. His hazel eyes roamed the room like he was used to getting what he wanted, and his grin—cocky, confident—never seemed to drop. He had a charm, sure, but it was the kind of charm that felt almost too smooth, too practiced.

And when he walked toward me, every head in the room turned. Eyes flicked from their screens to him, the air shifting as if we’d just stepped into a scene from a poorly scripted drama.

Cassian stopped in front of me, his gaze lingering just long enough to make it clear he wasn’t just looking at me—he was assessing me. His lips curled into that infuriatingly easy grin.

"Well, well," he said, his voice dropping an octave, smooth and deliberately low. "Looks like the universe really knows how to set things up."

I leaned back in my chair, unfazed, but he closed the gap between us anyway. Too close, too quickly, like he was testing my boundaries. His eyes flickered down to my lips for a split second before returning to my eyes, his intent clear. He wasn’t just flirting—he was pushing the boundaries, trying to make me uncomfortable.

"Does this look like a good set-up to you?" I replied dryly.

Cassian’s smirk deepened, as if he were savoring my indifference. "I don’t know… You’re just so damn easy to read." His voice dropped even lower, almost a whisper. "I can tell you're pretending you don’t want this."

I raised a brow. “Pretending? You really are full of yourself, huh?”

His response was instant, a subtle step forward, just enough for his breath to graze my skin. “What can I say? I’m used to getting what I want.” His gaze lingered on my mouth again, this time slow, deliberate. His tone dipped further. “And I always get what I want.”

I wasn’t flustered, wasn’t giving him any of the reaction he wanted. But it was impossible not to notice the way his body radiated this almost predatory confidence, the way every move he made seemed designed to make the air heavier, more charged.

And yet—he wasn’t Adrian.

Across the room, Adrian stood with his arms crossed, his posture sharp, his face as unreadable as stone. But his eyes… they burned into me, even from this distance. The difference was striking. Where Cassian was a flash of movement and charm, Adrian was a heavy weight, solid and unmoving.

Cassian noticed, of course. His smirk didn’t falter, but his eyes flicked toward Adrian, narrowing slightly before he turned back to me.

“You both ever met before? I didn’t know my Adrian Valkyr did relationships” Cassian asked.

Instead of acknowledging his questions I ask him,”You Adrian?”

He snickers, and slowly twirls my lose hair in his fingers.Undignified dinosaur.”Nah he’s my best friend”

I raise my brows,”To answer your earlier question I met Adrian for the first dime during the merging and no, why would I be in a relationship with someone from the SWC?” And I can’t help asking, “Adrian has friends”

Cassian Wolfe just gives me a wolf smile,”Ouch darlin’ I am from the SWC you know? Also Adrain doesn’t have friends. He has a friend and that’s me. Though I doubt I will be his friend any longer with the way hes reacting.”Then he just stares at me. Its full of mischief. Nothing romantic.

I look at Adrian. His jaw was clenched, his eyes narrowed just a fraction. The way he stood—solid, like a rock that could never be moved—had a quiet, commanding power to it.

Cassian is just… noise, but he is fun, not gonna lie….

Hmm ,maybe not all dinosaurs are weird…

I refused to look at Adrian. I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing how his stare seemed to pull at me, even when I knew it was nothing more than irritation. That’s what it was, right? Irritation.Yes, yes Irritation.

Cassian clapped me on the shoulder—friendly, if you could call it that—before sliding into the seat beside me. It was too close. His scent—something sharp and almost overpowering—invaded my space. I could feel the heat of him as if it were a physical presence.

"So," he murmured, leaning in just enough that his voice was low, just for me. “How do you like to spend your free time, Virelia? Or are you one of those all-business types?”

I shot him a sideways glance, my expression impassive. “You’re really not going to quit, are you?”

Cassian smiled, a little too smug. “Not in my nature.”

I rolled my eyes, pretending to focus on the professor who was outlining the day's assignments. But it was useless. Cassian wasn’t letting up. His presence filled the space, a constant hum at the back of my mind.

“Let’s make a deal,” he said, leaning closer. Too close. “I’ll be your fun for today. You get to keep your cool, and I’ll keep the rest of these idiots entertained.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I think we both know who’s the real prize here.”

Before I could shoot him down, a sudden, sharp intake of breath from the back of the room grabbed my attention.

Adrian.

He was standing by the door, his gaze fixed on Cassian’s hand, which had been placed just a little too casually on my arm. For a split second, I saw the flicker of something in Adrian’s eyes—something dark, something that almost resembled... jealousy? No, it couldn’t be. Not with the way he looked at me. Not with how much he’d clearly hated me these past few weeks.

But there it was—an edge in his expression that was too raw to ignore.

Cassian didn’t seem to notice the change. Or maybe he did, but he chose to play it off. “You know, Adrian looks like he’s about to snap someone in half,” he said, his voice light, almost teasing. “You two must have some history.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. I could feel Adrian’s gaze burning through the back of my skull, but I refused to meet it.

“Don’t worry about him,” I said flatly, making sure to keep my tone casual. “He’s got enough to deal with.”

“Hmm.” Cassian’s lips quirked up, but there was a brief flicker of something behind his eyes—something calculating. “I’m sure. But just between us, he doesn’t seem too thrilled about me being your partner.”

I turned my head slightly, but my expression was completely unreadable. “Guess I’ll have to disappoint him.”

Cassian chuckled, a low sound that reverberated in his chest. He sat back, clearly pleased with himself, but there was an intensity in his gaze that I couldn’t quite place. He wasn’t just playing games; he was testing me. And he was winning, because I could feel it. The tension between us was thick, charged, and every time he spoke, it seemed to pull tighter, more dangerously.

Across the room, Adrian’s posture hadn’t shifted. But the tightness in his jaw told me everything I needed to know. The anger, the frustration—it was there, beneath the surface, but barely contained.

I couldn’t help the sharp, empty smile that tugged at my lips. Cassian had no idea what kind of fire he was playing with. And neither did Adrian.

Cassian leaned in just enough that his breath grazed my ear. "Let’s give them a show."

I didn’t need to ask who he meant. Valkyr had been quiet all day, but Cassian, with his ever-present smirk, could feel the tension hanging in the air. He knew exactly how to stir the pot.

"You sure about this?" I asked, pretending to hesitate.

Cassian’s grin spread wider. "Oh, I’m always sure."

I stood up slowly, drawing the attention of the entire room. The moment I made that move, I felt the shift in the room. Every set of eyes—curious, skeptical, jealous—locked onto me. And then, of course, Cassian beside me. A wave of quiet whispers rippled through the class.

I wasn’t surprised. I was Virelia Sylver—the Virelia Sylver—and I rarely interacted with anyone. The idea that I, who’d kept everyone at arm’s length, was now walking out of class with Cassian Wolfe? Yeah, that was going to stir things up.

The murmurs started low but quickly spread.

“Did you see that? Virelia’s actually… with him?”

“Is she serious? I thought she didn’t like anyone…”

“Cassian Wolfe, of all people? What’s going on?”

“Did she just smile? Oh my god, she never smiles.She looks so pretttyyy”

I tried not to listen, but I could hear the envy in their voices. Girls whispered to each other, eyeing me with narrowed, jealousy-eyed glares. Cassian might’ve been known for his charm, but right now? I was the one who had all the attention. And no one—no one—had ever seen me like this.

Cassian, effortlessly cool, bumped my shoulder lightly. "You’re making them jealous, Sylver.Also can I call you Virelia ?

I roll my eyes. “I didn’t even try.”

But as we walked, I could see the way they looked at me, the way their eyes lingered on me as if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. A few girls shot me looks, their jaws tight, hands clasped together as they whispered urgently to each other.

“Why would she walk with him?” one whispered, barely loud enough for me to hear. "I thought she didn’t care about anyone… She’s so—"

“Stunning,” another one finished, her voice laced with both awe and envy.

I could practically hear the jealousy simmering under their breath. The way they looked at me said it all—I was too good to be walking with someone like Cassian. They wanted him, of course. Who didn’t? But this… this was something they’d never expected. Virelia Sylver, so damn stunning and untouchable, was now—intentionally—walking beside Cassian Wolfe.

“You know, it’s funny,” Cassian said, clearly enjoying the reaction. “No one ever expects you to smile.”

I shoot him a dry look. “You’re annoying.”

He just chuckled, clearly not bothered. “But you’re liking it, aren’t you?”

“Oh, definitely,” I replied, my tone teasing.

By now, we were heading down the hallway, and the gossip was at full force.

“They’re walking together,” one guy whispered to his friend. “Virelia and Cassian Wolfe… Did I just hear her laugh?”

“She’s not supposed to care about anyone!” another girl hissed. “What’s going on?”

The murmurs and whispers grew louder, but neither of us reacted. It was becoming a show, one that was slowly drawing in more of the class's attention. The surprise on their faces, the disbelief—I was the center of it all, and they couldn't stop watching.

Cassian leaned in, his voice just for me. "They don’t know what to make of this."

I couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at my lips. "Good. I like keeping them guessing."

I leaned in a little closer to Cassian as we walked, my voice dropping just low enough for only him to hear. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Me? Never,” he said with mock innocence, but the glint in his eyes told me everything I needed to know.

As we rounded the corner, the whispers continued to follow us, and I could feel the eyes on me—their jealousy, their confusion. They couldn’t figure it out. How could someone like me—someone who had never shown interest in anyone—now be walking with Cassian Wolfe? It was too much to wrap their heads around.

“I think you’ve officially ruined the rest of their day,” Cassian said, grinning. “And I love it.”

“I don’t care about that,” I muttered. But the truth? I kind of did.

We kept walking, and though I didn’t look back, I knew Valkyr was still watching us. He wasn’t angry—not yet. But I could feel it. That tension. It wasn’t just the class who was confused by my actions. Valkyr, too, was caught in this strange, unspoken drama

As we made our way to the next class, I could feel the eyes on us, heavier than before. The whispers were practically vibrating through the hall, but it wasn’t just because of Cassian’s flirtations. No, it was because of me—Virelia Sylver. The girl who never gave anyone the time of day, who had always been emotionally unavailable, no matter how many guys threw themselves at her. They all wanted a piece of me... until they realized I didn’t care.

Now, here I was—flirting with Cassian, of all people—just to get under Valkyr’s skin. But it wasn’t just making him squirm. The entire class? They were practically salivating with envy. It was subtle, but I could see it in the way they glanced at us, their eyes narrowing, their faces reddening.

Some of them had always wanted me, had even tried to win my attention once upon a time, but now? They were confused, frustrated. They didn’t know what to make of this. I wasn’t supposed to flirt with anyone. I was supposed to stay unreachable. But Cassian had broken through my walls—whether he meant to or not.

And that was driving everyone crazy.

Cassian nudged me, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips as he caught the looks being thrown our way. “I think we’re giving them something to talk about,” he whispered, the gleam of amusement in his eyes unmistakable.

“You think?” I replied dryly, not even bothering to hide the slight smile that threatened at the corner of my lips. “I’m sure they love it.”

“Loving it is an understatement,” Cassian said with a wink. “They’re practically dying of curiosity. You know you’re irresistible, right?”

I glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Not to you.”

He just chuckled, leaning in as we walked closer to the classroom. “But that’s exactly why it’s so much fun. They all want what they can’t have. And you? You’re the perfect puzzle.”

I couldn’t deny it—there was something satisfying about it, even if I wasn’t sure why I was so into this game. It wasn’t like me, not at all. I wasn’t interested in Cassian, and I wasn’t interested in anyone, really. But there was something about the way he effortlessly played along, made everyone believe something that wasn’t true, that got under my skin in the best way.

By the time we reached the classroom door, the tension was palpable. As we stepped inside, every eye in the room shifted toward us. And even though we hadn’t done anything more than walk in together, the room was alive with whispered speculation.

“They’re definitely together.”

“She’s too gorgeous, she can have anyone.. She’ll never actually fall for someone like him.”

I kept my head high, trying my best to look like I didn’t notice. But, God, it was hard to ignore the heat of their stares, the way every guy in the room looked like they’d been punched in the gut. They all wanted me—at least, they had. But now, seeing me walk in with Cassian, all that was left was frustration. Because I was the one who didn’t care, and I didn’t think I would ever care.

But Cassian?

He just grinned, his eyes flicking over the room, soaking in the attention like a damn showman. “This is fun, Virelia,” he said, his voice low enough only for me to hear. “Let’s make sure we keep this up for the rest of the class. I think they’re really enjoying the show.”

“Shut up, Cassian,” I replied, but it wasn’t even convincing. The truth was, I was enjoying this far more than I should have. The looks of envy, the confusion in the air, the game that Cassian and I were playing... It was all too good.

As we sat down, the stares didn’t let up. The classroom had gone completely silent as the students tried to figure out what the hell was happening between us. Were we dating? Were we just friends? No one could make up their minds.

Cassian settled into his seat beside me, the quiet hum of whispers around us still lingering. The professor hadn’t even started yet, but the energy in the room was already tense, crackling with the leftover uncertainty from the last few moments. I could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on us. But I didn’t care. I was used to being the subject of rumors. This time, though, it was different.

This time, Cassian was part of the rumor mill too.

The class eventually settled down, the professor starting the lecture with a bored, drawn-out introduction about some ancient civilization’s technological advancements. But none of that mattered. Not when every student was still too busy whispering about me and Cassian.

“You’re really making them sweat, huh?” Cassian whispered, his tone playful but tinged with something darker. It was like he knew exactly what was going on in the room. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

I glanced at him, narrowing my eyes. “I didn’t think you did either.”

He just grinned. “You underestimate me, Virelia. I’m a man of many talents.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, but the teasing in his voice had an effect I didn’t expect. It made my chest tighten, something uncomfortably warm spreading through me. It was stupid. He was just Cassian—charming, dramatic, always ready with a sly remark. But still... I wasn’t prepared for how easy it was to fall into this rhythm with him.

“I’m sure you have lots of talents,” I said, keeping my voice neutral, though the challenge was clear. “But flirting isn’t one of them.”

Cassian chuckled, leaning just a little closer to me, his voice dropping low. “Maybe. But it seems to be working, doesn’t it?”

I didn’t answer right away, instead keeping my gaze straight ahead, trying to focus on anything other than how his proximity was starting to make me feel something I couldn’t quite put into words. The last thing I needed was to get caught up in this... whatever it was.

The professor launched into a lecture about a long-forgotten piece of alien tech, but I wasn’t really listening. My mind was still on Cassian—and on the looks I kept catching from the rest of the class. People had always noticed me, sure, but this felt different. I wasn’t just Virelia Sylver anymore. I was the girl who had decided to play a dangerous game with Cassian Wolfe, and it was making everyone question things.

Halfway through the lecture, I caught Valkyr’s gaze from the back of the room. His arms were crossed, his face unreadable, but there was a faint twitch of irritation in his jaw. It was subtle, but I didn’t miss it.

Cassian noticed too. “Valkyr’s got that look again,” he murmured, barely glancing at the guy. “You two have a complicated relationship, don’t you?”

I didn’t answer immediately. It was a complicated question. Adrian—Valkyr—had been nothing but angry at me since the AWC bombing, which I still didn’t really care about. And yet, I couldn’t quite ignore the way his eyes followed my every move when he thought I wasn’t looking.

“What are you, his therapist?” I muttered, focusing on the professor instead. Cassian just leans closer in reply and gasps are heard from all across the room

Interesting.

We continue to study the onwards but I lean against the stone pillar, eyeing Cassian. There's something about him that makes it easy to be... just myself.

“You know,” I start, my voice cool but not sharp, “I’ve never had a real friend. Not like this, anyway. I’ve kept people at arm’s length. But with you... it’s different. I think we could actually be friends.”

Cassian looks at me, all mischief vanished,his tone steady. “I’m not here to complicate things. Just to be there, if you need it. No pressure.”

I nod. "I've had people around me, but no one who really saw me. Everyone wanted something or couldn’t handle the distance. But you... you didn’t push. Eww,this is such sentimental bullshit”

He grins slightly. And now its genuine, not something you would give your romantic partner, but something you would give to your partner in crime.“I’m not trying to get anything from you, Vir. Just thought you’d be the most interesting to be friends with. No games.”

I give a small nod. “I chose you, Cassian, because you don’t expect me to change. Everyone else has an agenda. You didn’t.”

There’s a beat of silence, easy but understanding.

“So,” Cassian says, a slight smile tugging at his lips, “friends, right?”

I give him a rare, small smile back. “Yeah. Friends.”

Cassian grins,”Also can you call me Cass it sounds very smart, like we are in a spy mission”

I lift my hands and smack his face. He dodges it but the books form the chair falls.Oops ,the whole class, including the professor is looking at us.

It doesn’t matter. I made a friend today, someone from the SWC nonetheless.

No pretenses. No drama. Just Friends.

Oh but dear , Adrian looks like he might kill my new friend.

THANKYOUUUUUU

NEXT PART 3 AT 10 NOTES ONLYYY.LUVVV YALL<33333333

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theforgottenhorcrux · 13 days ago

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KILLING,AN EXCUSE.

AIGHT, PART 2 IS HERE. 🔥 Y’all wanted more drama? More tension? More Valkyr being mad for no reason? Say less. 🤭 I’m literally 13 and still can’t believe people are actually reading this, but THANK YOU for the support!! Go read it and tell me your thoughts before I combust. 👀✨

HERES THE STORY: