Chapter 8

The next morning, just like the day before, her door unlocked itself. Eliana still had no idea how that worked, but at this point, she didn't care. A fresh set of clothes lay neatly folded at her doorstep: a gray hoodie, sweatpants, and underwear—same as yesterday.

There was no gathering in the main hall today. Instead, they had an hour to use the bathroom and eat breakfast. Wasting no time, she grabbed the clothes and made her way to the bathrooms only to come to a dead stop in the doorway.

The room was packed. Worse, men and women weren't separated. Toilet stalls, sinks, showers—everything was in one open space. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene: bare skin everywhere. Breasts, dicks—what the fuck? Why was everyone walking around so casually, without the slightest hint of shame?

Before she could recover from the shock, someone slammed into her shoulder, nearly sending her stumbling backward. The impact felt like she'd hit a brick wall. She turned, ready to glare at whoever had just walked into her, only to pause.

It was a woman.

A woman so unnaturally tall and muscular that Eliana had mistaken her for a guy. The woman smirked down at her, and behind her stood a group of equally intimidating figures—both men and women. Great. Just what she needed.

One of the guys stepped closer, invading her space. He wasn't wearing clothes either, and his... thing was just hanging there like it was the most normal thing in the world.

This is so weird.

"In this academy, there's no place for someone like you," he sneered, his breath hot on her face. "Just let yourself get killed and stay out of the way of those of us who actually want to be assassins."

Spit landed on her cheek. Ew, just disgusting. He was just as good-looking as everyone else here, but his personality made him ugly as hell.

"Okay… whatever," she muttered, deciding that arguing wasn't worth it. She ducked into the nearest toilet stall, shutting the door behind her just as laughter erupted behind her.

"Don't waste your time, Kilian," a female voice scoffed. "The ugly duckling will die sooner or later. She'll never survive the academy."

So her new tormentor's name was Kilian. Great.

A dozen snarky comebacks popped into her head, but the moment had already passed. She hated that—hated how often she told herself she'd stand up for herself next time, only to freeze in the moment.

She sighed and changed out of her sweaty clothes from yesterday.

Endure and survive.

It wasn't so different from high school—except here, she could literally die, and the fitness classes would probably be the ones to kill her first.

Why couldn't everyone just get along? She didn't want to be here. They didn't want her here. So why not just help her escape instead of starting pointless beef?

Still brooding, she stomped toward the cafeteria. Her mood was already shot, but at least she spotted something positive—Tristan. Finally, she could ask him for his notes and get some useful information. Their conversation yesterday had been way too brief.

She moved toward him, but before she could reach him, someone grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the buffet line.

She swore to god, if one more person randomly grabbed her, she was going to stab them. Okay, maybe not actually, but she'd definitely fantasize about it.

A deep voice pulled her out of her murderous thoughts.

"You shouldn't interact with Tristan."

She frowned and looked up at the guy dragging her along. He had brown hair, a lip piercing, and sharp, wolfish features that made him look both effortlessly cool and slightly dangerous.

"Why not? And who even are you?" she muttered, confused. He was still holding her wrist, guiding her forward as the line moved.

"Tristan is already a fully trained assassin. The only reason he's here is because he fucked up on a mission. His punishment was one more year at the academy." His voice was low, serious. "And the worst part? He's Theo's younger brother."

Right. Theo—the unnervingly sympathetic guy who had shown her to her room on her first day. She was grateful for the information, but something about this guy's sudden helpfulness felt... suspicious.

"What's your angle?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. "How do I know you're not lying just to make me ditch my only potential ally?"

The guy smirked. "Smart girl. You shouldn't trust me either. But trust me on this—mentors and anyone associated with them? They're worse than anything."

Before she could respond, he shoved a tray into her hands. Still trying to sort through the flood of new information, she mechanically piled food onto her plate. They sat down together, and it was only then that she realized something strange.

Talking to him felt... easy.

She wasn't even blushing.

She played with her food for a moment before finally speaking up. "Thanks for the warning. So, what's your name?"

A part of her was scared he'd turn out like everyone else—cruel and sadistic. But for once, she had a sliver of hope.

He sighed, sounding almost annoyed. "Keith. And don't get the wrong idea—I only helped you out of pity so you won't die too fast. Don't think this means we're friends now."

She bit her lip. Ouch. That stung a little.

Of course, he didn't want to be her friend. Did she give off desperate vibes or something? Was that why no one liked her?

Not important. Focus.

"Fine, we're not friends," she said, brushing off the sting of rejection. "But I don't know anyone here, and I heard there's going to be an exam every two weeks. I'd really appreciate it if you lent me your notes from yesterday." She forced herself to sound casual, bracing for him to refuse.

To her surprise, he nodded, though he still sounded grumpy. "I'll give them to you at lunch."

"Oh, thank you so, so much. You have no idea how much this helps." She couldn't stop the smile creeping onto her lips.

Keith glanced away, his heart skipping a beat.

What the hell was he doing, helping an outsider? He was a fool.

But... she was cute. And she looked so lost.

He couldn't help but mess with her a little.