Scenario:Okay, buckle up, because this is about to get wild. The hallowed halls of Aethel Academy were a melting pot of ambition, beauty, and... frankly, bizarre pet choices. And there I was, Elara Thorne, a cog in this ridiculously wealthy and talented machine. My family, the Thornes, were basically the blueprint for “old money meets genius”, six siblings and me, each a prodigy in our own right. And while my siblings were busy running multi-billion dollar companies or designing revolutionary tech, I was mostly focused on napping in class and petting my panther, Shadow, who was currently sprawled at my feet like a glorified house cat. My best friend, Lia, with her mischievous grin and a tiny, feisty monkey that could pickpocket the Queen, was currently painting her nails a shade of electric blue. We were two sides of the supporting cast coin, content to observe the drama unfold around us. Aethel Academy was a breeding ground for the twisted and sinful, or at least that’s what the literature department seemed to claim. There was Alex Volkov, brooding and possessive, and Ava Chen, the girl who seemed forever on the verge of tears. Then we had Rhys Larsen, the stoic bodyguard, and Bridget von Ascheberg, the princess with a backbone of steel. Josh Chen and Jules Ambrose, a whirlwind of passion and hate, and Christian Harper, the enigmatic mastermind constantly paired with the ever-charming Stella Alonso. Xavier Castillo and Sloane, a study in forbidden desire with a bit of a sloth edge, Dante Russo and Vivian Lau, a fiery combination with a healthy dose of wrath, Kai Young and Isabella Rossi, an untouchable power couple with pride to spare, and finally there was Dominic Davenport and Alessandra, a ruthless duo with more greed than anyone should have. And then there was him. Lucas Thorne. My bane. Red eyes, long silky black hair, and a mind that could probably map out the entire universe in its sleep. He was a rival in every sense of the word, our competition as fierce as it was unspoken. One particular afternoon, I decided to find refuge in the sprawling oak that overlooked the academy’s manicured gardens. Shadow was perched beside me, the wind ruffling his glossy black fur as I stared at the clouds. Suddenly, a sob broke through the peaceful atmosphere. Looking down, I saw Ava Chen, head in her hands, tears streaming down her face. Curious despite myself, I slid down the tree. “Ava? What’s wrong?” She looked up, her face blotchy and red. Without a word, she threw herself at me, sobbing harder. I stood there, awkwardly patting her back. She finally managed to stammer out the story of her fight with Alex, something about him being too overbearing or possessive – honestly, it all blended together. My heart didn’t feel anything because really I didn’t have anything to do with that but still I found myself offering her my pet to cuddle. “Here,” I said, nudging Shadow closer. “He likes cuddles.” Ava buried her face in Shadow’s fur and finally calmed down. And then, because fate is a cruel mistress, Alex Volkov appeared, his jaw tight, eyes like thunderclouds. “Ava,” he growled. I decided it was time to leave. “Well, have fun,” I mumbled, calling Shadow to follow. As I retreated, I could hear snippets of their conversation – Alex’s possessive anger, Ava’s teary protests. I really should be reading “The Art of War” by Sun-Tzu but instead I was stuck in this drama show. Honestly, I chalked up the whole thing as a strange occurrence. But of course, that was the day I became collateral damage in the Twisted/Sinful wars. A few days later, the fencing class schedule was released. Each one of us was handpicked to spar with someone. My name was placed next to his - Lucas Thorne. Well, that was a big oof. No matter how much I trained at home, the man had some sort of superhuman power when it came to anything weapon related and that’s the reason why I hated him in the first place. The day of the class arrived, and the atmosphere was taut with tension. The air buzzed with the rhythmic clash of steel, and the instructors called out instructions I couldn’t be bothered with. Lucas was there, red eyes glinting with something akin to amusement, his long black hair tied back. Naturally, our duel was the main attraction. We circled each other, the air thick with the unspoken hostility between us. Each parry, each thrust was a calculated dance, a silent argument played out with cold steel. I was doing better than usual, dodging his attacks, and even landing some blows which he was successfully dodging. A sudden clang ripped through the air. It wasn’t Lucas or me. It was a clumsy student who had swung his blade wide, aiming for another and it was coming right at me. I ducked into the attack but the impact sent a hot pain searing through my arm. I stumbled back, my left arm screaming in protest, a sharp sprain pulsing. I looked up, anger bubbling inside of me. The student's face was a mask of horror, muttering apologies. Then, I looked at Lucas. His face was no longer the picture of detached amusement. His red eyes were wider, his brow furrowed with an emotion I couldn't quite place. Concern?