CHAPTER 39: CHAPTER 39: SHE REALLY BRUSHED ME OFF.

As she continued making her way forward, ignoring the murderous dagger the girls were throwing her way, her stare collided with Azrael’s first.

Azrael’s head snapped to her like a predator catching sight of prey. The hallway seemed to hold its breath. His gaze didn’t waver, didn’t soften. He drank her in without shame. His stare peered onto her hair, the snowy white hair pulled into a loose braid, a few strands falling across her face. They framed her features, softening her edges, giving her an innocence that felt dangerous. Fuck. This whitehead was dangerous. Deadly. And he couldn’t tear his eyes away. His jaw tightened, the faintest twitch betraying the heat beneath his composed exterior. Every second that passed, his stare grew heavier, hotter, like invisible fingers dragging down her face, her throat, her chest.

Then her hair. His favorite part of her that always seem to stir up something dangerous in him. Something he doesn’t want to admit to yet.

Then Rhydric’s eyes shifted toward her. Calculated. Observant. Where Azrael’s stare devoured, Rhydric’s assessed. He saw the way she didn’t move, didn’t bow, didn’t shrink back like the rest. Bold. Reckless. Recklessness that could get her destroyed in this world but damn he really does admire it. That defiance sparked something in him, a reluctant respect he’d never voice. She was gorgeous, undeniably so, though he’d take the knowledge to his grave before admitting it aloud. He studied the angle of her chin, the unflinching line of her shoulders. She wasn’t flustered, not outwardly though. Bold girl. Gutsy girl.

And then Eryx Draven. The Flame.

His gaze didn’t just land on her; it seared. Hot, scorching, unapologetic. His smirk came in slow, as if her refusal to flinch amused him to his core. Every time she crossed his line of sight, she stirred something darker, rawer, in him. Something that didn’t want to admire but to claim. Damn, the girl was so fucking hot, and she didn’t even try. She didn’t need to. She carried it effortlessly, like sin woven into her very existence. His thoughts tumbled fast, messy, unrestrained, just like the first time he’d seen her in class. He had wanted to fuck her then, had imagined her spread beneath him, screaming his name until his throat grew hoarse from returning the favor between her legs. That hunger hadn’t left. No, it had sharpened, the urge to fuck her hard is still there. He felt his traitorous body betrayed him. Heat curled low in his gut, tightening, until he could feel the ache pressing against his trousers. Subtle enough to hide, but not subtle enough to ignore. He cursed under his breath, dragging his eyes lower, then back up, slow, deliberate, like he wanted her to know exactly what he was thinking.

Athena felt her breath hitch when she saw the hot gaze he was throwing at her. It was so hard steading her heart hammering hard against her rid cage and to make everything worse, her eyes met with Theodore Argentis.

Unlike the others, his lips curved into a smirk the moment his gaze collided with hers. Of course it was her. Who else could it be? She was always the one breaking the pattern, always the one bending the rules, daring to do what others only dreamed of. Chaos followed her, and she carried it like a crown. She didn’t walk, she strutted with her chin up, eyes forward, daring the world to blink first. That pretty face, that stubborn mouth, those short thick legs that carried her like she was untouchable, it was enough to make him grind his teeth. She was damn pretty. He wouldn’t lie about that, not even to himself. But she wasn’t pretty enough to sweep him off his feet, not enough to make him fold. His pride wouldn’t let him, not now, not ever. He saw how his brothers were staring, devouring her with their eyes, he refused to be anyone’s puppet.

He wasn’t going to allow Athena shake him and break his walls like she’s doing with others.

The girls is dangerous, undeniably captivating, stunning, exquisite, radiant, gosh, any word related to beauty is the definition of the girl right in front of him. And yet... watching her stand her ground while the whole school bent their heads? Yeah. She stirred something. Something he’d never admit.

Athena met every one of their stares, one by one, her pulse quickening until it was almost unbearable. Her face, though, stayed maddeningly composed. No tremble. No flinch. No surrender. She refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing her buckle under the weight of their presence.

So she stared right back.

And the air between them burned.

The Phantom Fours moved past her. Corridor was silent except for the heavy rhythm of sneakers on polished tiles and the collective thrum of held breath. Athena kept walking too, but suddenly she remembered something.

"Wait."

Her voice wasn’t loud, yet it cut through the silence like a blade.

The four of them stopped. All of them.

Students gasped audibly, disbelief rippling like shockwaves through the hall. Felicia slap her hands on her mouth, stopping herself from screaming and making a scene, her eyes widened, panic radiating off her.

"Athena..." she whispered through gritted teeth, like she could stop an avalanche with her voice.

But Athena didn’t move. Didn’t waver.

She stepped back a little, eyes locking on Rhydric. His dark brow lifted, the smallest flicker was the only thing that changed in his unreadable expression.

Athena slid a hand into her jacket pocket and pulled something out. A neatly folded, clean white kerchief. The kerchief.

Holding it up between them, her voice was steady. "Thank you," she said, calm as if they were the only two people in the world. "I washed it. It’s clean." She extended it to him.

A few students sucked in sharp breaths, their jaws practically on the floor. Felicia looked like she might collapse right there.

What on earth is this girl doing, returning stuffs back to rhydric.

Rhydric studied her. The hall seemed to bend around his silence, waiting. Then his voice came, low and smooth, carrying just the faintest edge of authority. "Keep it. I don’t take back what I give out."

The words were final, arrogant in their simplicity.

But Athena was not the kind to bow.

Her chin tilted higher, eyes unflinching. "I can’t keep it either. If you’re worried it’s dirty, you don’t need to be. It’s clean. But it’s yours." Her tone was polite, but firm.

The corner of Rhydric’s mouth twitched, almost invisible. Still, he didn’t move. "I said keep it. I don’t need it." This time the words dripped with quiet arrogance, as though possession or refusal were his to dictate.

Athena didn’t flinch. She stepped closer, right into his space. Gasps rippled behind her like waves crashing against the corridor walls. She reached down, took his hand from where it rested casually in his pocket, and pressed the folded kerchief into his palm. Her voice was soft but unyielding. "Thanks. But I don’t need it anymore."

She let go of his hand and turned, walking past him with the calm poise of someone who had already decided not to be intimidated.

Her gaze slid sideways straight into Eryx Draven’s.

He grinned instantly, slow and deliberate, the kind of grin that could melt ice and set fire to bone. His smirk sharpened, and before she could look away, he winked at her. Bold. Unapologetic.

Heat shot through Athena’s chest and dropped to her stomach, curling tight in her toes. Her pulse jumped. She shifted her eyes away quickly, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

But then her gaze met Theodore Argentis.

His grin stretched wide, teeth bared in something almost predatory. "See you in class," he murmured, smooth, confident, like it was already a promise.

Athena rolled her eyes so hard it nearly made some students choke. She brushed past him without a pause, her dismissiveness loud enough to echo through the stunned silence of the crowd.

Students stared, mouths parted, unable to process what they’d just witnessed. No one ever did that. No one.

But Athena had and it looked like she was going to get away with it.

Behind her, Theodore’s grin only widened. "She really brushed me off," he muttered, amusement dripping from every syllable.

Eryx chuckled low, his voice rich and husky. "She doesn’t seem to like you."

"Yeah," Theodore admitted easily, eyes still fixed on her retreating form. "Got on her bad side the first day of school."

Eryx tilted his head, interest sparking. "What the hell did you do?"

Theodore’s smirk deepened. "Said something disrespectful about ladies. She took it personal."

Eryx’s laugh rolled out, deep and sharp, his eyes flashing with something between admiration and hunger. "Reckless as ever."

The four of them continued their walk, the crowd parting again, murmurs exploding in the hallway. But no one would forget what they’d just seen.

Athena had faced the Phantom Fours and walked away untouched