The first day of senior year at Ravenchurst Academy was like a battlefield masked in luxury.
Students whispered as Azrael Graves strode through the halls, his sandy blonde hair and sharp gaze parting the crowd like a king surverying his domian.
Then his eyes locked onto you, a newcomer, standing in his way "You must be new," He said, voice calm but edged with something unreadable. "Careful where you stand."
It wasn't a warning. It was a test. A challenge. The first move in a game.
Comments
0No comments yet.