Chapter 6

Eliana had this time luck on her side—she found the cafeteria quickly. It was a large space with tables scattered throughout, but most were already empty, and people were clearing away their trays. A quick glance at the clock told her she had only twenty minutes left for lunch.

Wasting no time, she rushed to the buffet and piled her plate high with food, barely paying attention to what she grabbed. After not eating for so long, she was ravenous. With her tray in hand, she scanned the room. A few other recruits were still eating. She needed allies or, at the very least, someone who knew more than she did and could give her information about this place.

The problem? Her social skills were terrible. Somehow, people always ignored her no matter what she did, and her face had an annoying tendency to flush bright red whenever she talked to strangers. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and approached a table where three girls were sitting. Normally, she got along better with girls—they made her feel... safer.

"Hi, I'm Eliana. Can I sit with you?" she asked, trying to sound confident, though her voice wavered slightly. She even forced a small smile, but her cheeks betrayed her with a soft blush.

The girls barely spared her a glance before returning to their conversation, effectively shutting her out.

Great. Just great. This felt like high school all over again. She thought she had left that bullshit behind when she started college.

Before the embarrassment could fully settle in, she turned to leave, resigned to eating alone. But just as she was about to walk away, a hand grabbed her arm and yanked her down into a chair. She barely managed to save her tray from toppling over and slammed it onto the table before spinning around, fuming.

"What the fuck?" she snapped, only to freeze when she saw who had pulled her down.

A boy with blond hair and striking blue eyes grinned at her, his expression radiating warmth and mischief. For a moment, her mind blanked.

An angel.

That was the only thought that went through her head as she gaped at him. Why the hell was everyone here so ridiculously good-looking?

"Sit with me. I'm Tristan," the angel said cheerfully.

"Uh... okay..." she mumbled. Social skills? Nonexistent. But Tristan didn't seem to mind. He simply continued eating while watching her, which only made her more nervous.

Why was he staring at her?

Was she breathing weirdly? Had she forgotten how to use a fork? Was something wrong with her face? She wasn't exactly insecure—she knew she wasn't ugly, but she wasn't a beauty either. Still, Damon's insults and that humiliating physical exam had taken a serious toll on her ego.

Her spiral of self-consciousness was interrupted when Tristan suddenly spoke. "Don't be so tense. No one's gonna bite you here."

Eliana frowned. "I've been here for barely a day and have already been punched and beaten more times than I can count. So yeah, I'd rather stay tense."

Tristan only grinned, unfazed by her bluntness.

She hesitated before forcing herself to continue. "What do you... um... what do you know about this place?"

For the first time, his smile faltered slightly, his brow furrowing. But even with a frown, he still looked like an angel.

"What do you mean? I know the same as everyone else. We were sent here by our parents or came on our own to train as assassins. Three years of training, if you're good. Most take five or more."

His words made her stomach drop.

"Wait... so all of you knew beforehand that you'd be coming here?" she asked, her voice tightening.

"Of course," Tristan said, as if it was obvious. "Most of us have been training our whole lives for this. Not everyone gets the privilege of attending the academy."

Her mind reeled. Everyone here knew. They were here willingly. So why the hell was she here?

"I... I'm not supposed to be here," she whispered. "I was on my way to college when I got kidnapped. I woke up here, and the men running this place won't listen to me. Can you help me? Please?"

For a brief second, something flickered in Tristan's expression—amusement? Pity? Then, he chuckled and leaned back in his chair.

"Oh, that's a funny story," he said brightly. "But I can't help you. Once you're in the academy, there's no way out—not until you finish at least three years of training. You're stuck here, my sweet flower."

With that, he stood up and walked away, leaving her sitting there, stunned.

"Wait! Can't we talk a little more?" she called after him, but he was already gone.

It was only then that she realized the cafeteria was emptying out. Lunch was over. But she didn't care. She had been so focused on Tristan that she had completely forgotten to eat, and now her body was finally catching up with her. Her legs ached from all the running, her limbs felt heavy, and exhaustion settled over her like a thick blanket.

Her chest tightened. Was she really stuck here? Would they kill her family if she disobeyed?

Tears welled up in her eyes.

"Sorry, Mama, Papa, Daniel... I'm just so hungry."

Pathetic. That's what she must have looked like, shoveling food into her mouth while silent tears streamed down her face. But after her short breakdown, she wiped her cheeks, forced herself to finish, and dragged herself to the next class.

Her legs trembled with every step, and she felt completely drained by the time she entered the classroom. Isaak stood at the front, lecturing about the "important rules for an assassin." She barely listened. Luckily, unlike Damon, he didn't punch her for being late.

She slumped into a seat in the last row and noticed that the other students were diligently scribbling notes into notebooks.

Wait—where had they even gotten those?

With a sigh, she laid her head down on the desk and tuned Isaak's voice out. But she didn't get away with it for long.

By the end of the class, Isaak approached her desk, looming over her with an amused smirk.

"You know, I don't care if you pay attention or not," he said lazily. "But there's a test every two weeks. If you fail, you get punished. And I'm not talking about a couple of punches. Good luck getting the notes from the others."

With that, he walked away, his smirk widening when she glared at him.

So that was why he wasn't mad. He didn't need to be. She'd be punished eventually, whether she listened or not.

That fucking asshole.

She was going to die in this place. She was sure of it.