CHAPTER 5: Predator's Patience

Kaz's POV

The first time I saw her, she was chaos contained.

Crownwood Excellence Academy reeked of money and vanity. I had walked these halls long enough to recognize every masquerade—the hungry eyes hidden behind diamonds, the masks of prestige cracking around hollow ambitions. But that day, something changed. Something arrived.

Her.

Aurora Rae Winters.

She walked into the classroom with the kind of silence that demanded attention. No clumsy introductions. No false humility. A ghost in a cathedral of masks—deliberate, deadly, and devastatingly self-aware.

I watched her from the shadows of the last row, my seat. Where noise couldn't reach and light barely touched. My sanctuary.

She hadn't looked at me yet. But she looked at everyone else. Assessed them like items on a shelf. And gods, the way her lip curled when she wasn't impressed—it was beautiful. Not in the way Crownwood expected beauty to behave. No, Rae was an event. The kind that doesn't arrive quietly. The kind that changes everything.

Then Valentina opened her mouth.

The Queen Bee was venom in heels. Everyone knew not to cross her unless they wanted to drown in rumor and ruin. She ruled by social execution. And yet, she made the mistake of mistaking Rae for prey.

I knew something would break.

But I hadn't expected it to be a wrist.

I didn't move. Didn't blink. But I felt it in my teeth when Rae twisted Valentina's wrist back with calculated grace, the sound of bone shattering under pressure silencing the room like a divine punishment. Beautiful. Cruel.

Valentina screamed.

And Rae just stood there.

Unshaken. Unapologetic.

Then she spoke—her voice not loud, but sharp enough to draw blood.

"I'm Aurora Rae Winters."

My interest solidified into obsession.

Our eyes met.

It wasn't soft. It wasn't romantic. It was war.

And I realized, she wasn't just chaos.

She was designed for it.

She looked at me as if she could peel back my skin and find something interesting beneath. That amused curiosity. The cold hunger.

I smirked.

Because for the first time in a long time, I saw someone who could be worthy.

---

I disappeared after lunch. Not out of fear. I had work to do.

Valentina's Mercedes sat in the parking lot like a crown on a grave. She always parked front and center. She believed everyone should see her leaving.

So I made sure they'd see her car burn.

It took little effort. Accelerant in the tailpipe. A slow-burn ignition. And the final touch: a note. Folded. Deliberate.

"That's the first and last warning for you. If you ever break something that belongs to me again, you won't watch your car burn. You'll be the one burning."

Signed, — A. K. Blackgrave.

I watched from the shadows of a tree as the flames bloomed. Crownwood roared to life. Phones. Screams. Delight.

And then she appeared.

Rae.

She didn't panic. Didn't flinch. She just watched. Arms crossed, eyes narrowed. She stood at the edge of destruction like it bowed to her.

Valentina screamed again. A banshee in designer.

"YOU!"

Rae's smirk was venom and velvet.

"Ironic, accusing someone who doesn't light matches of arson. You might want to rethink your detective career."

Every word dripped power.

And then Valentina saw the note.

I watched the color drain from her face. Her body stiffen. Her confidence fracture like glass underfoot. She read the words, and the fire wasn't on her car anymore—it was in her lungs. Panic. Pure and private.

She trembled.

Perfect.

But Rae... Rae stepped forward like the devil come to collect.

"Looks like you made an enemy. And this one doesn't play with matches. He brings infernos."

She wasn't just observing. She was aligning. Recognizing what I was.

And what I could be to her.

Then she looked up. Found me.

And smiled.

Not softly. Not sweetly.

But like a god meeting their monster.

---

The next morning, Valentina was gone.

I expected it.

Cowards run when the war gets personal.

But Rae? She strutted into class like she owned it. That same subtle smile. That same dark joy under her skin. Aiden buzzed at her side like a mosquito with glitter.

He was funny. Smart. Loud.

And entirely beneath her.

Still, I watched.

Because she let him orbit.

Because even stars need a moon.

"Our Lady of Eternal Rage isn't here today," he whispered.

"Do you think she's getting exorcised, or just practicing her ugly cry?"

"Both," she replied, deadpan.

God, that tongue.

Sharp as razors. Cold as winter.

"Send her therapy. And a leash."

She didn't just speak—she commanded. With words. With presence. With that look that said she could burn you down without lifting a finger.

Aiden teased her about me.

"You looked at him like you wanted to lick his soul."

"I don't claim people, Aiden. I devour them."

The way she said it...

If I had a heart worth breaking, she'd have already carved her name into it.

She watched me when I walked in. Didn't pretend she wasn't. Didn't disguise the calculation. She saw me.

Not for what Crownwood believed I was.

But for what I truly am.

A ghost in human skin. A fire with legs.

A predator.

And she? She was a different kind of hunger.

---

Throughout the day, I let the rumors swirl.

Valentina. The fire. The note.

People whispered like I couldn't hear them. Like I wasn't already in their lungs.

But Rae... Rae didn't whisper.

She watched.

She thought.

I saw it in the way her fingers tapped when no one spoke. The way her eyes moved too quickly for vanity, too slowly for panic.

She was cataloguing everyone. Dissecting. Judging.

She spoke to Aiden like he was a toy that didn't quite amuse her but wouldn't shut up.

"Keep talking and I'll rearrange your face like an abstract painting."

And he smiled like he'd been blessed.

Insanity.

---

At the end of the day, she lingered near the front entrance. Waiting.

For me.

She thought she was subtle. She wasn't.

I let her wait. Watched her from the shadows again. Counted her breaths. The rise and fall of ambition in her chest.

Then I stepped out.

She saw me.

Our eyes locked.

And there it was.

The second time.

The air between us cracked with the weight of what we already knew: we weren't strangers.

We were predators circling the same kill.

But we weren't here to share.

We were here to test.

Would she bite first?

Would I?

She smiled first.

And gods help me—I wanted to see what she looked like when she smiled while burning the world.

I smirked.

Not because I wanted to.

Because I had to.

She was mine.

Whether she knew it or not.

And I would either conquer her, or let her carve me apart piece by piece until there was nothing left but ash and obsession.