Killian Maddox lay sprawled on the cold pavement, his face twisted in a mixture of pain and disbelief. Elise, behind me, was on the ground too, her hands trembling as she hugged herself, her wide eyes darting between me and Killian.
I stood above him, my heart steady, my expression calm. But my mind was churning.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
Killian wasn't meant to see me. He wasn't even meant to know I existed. I'd planned to operate from the shadows, biding my time to strike when he was most vulnerable. Now, I'd been exposed. My anonymity—my greatest weapon—was gone, and my chances of eliminating him cleanly had just plummeted.
"You've really done it now," the Echo's voice whispered in my mind, soft and mocking. "What will you do, Noah? Clean up the mess? Or maybe you'll take that girl and run. Or wait—" it laughed, a cold, mirthless sound, "you could kill them both. That'd be clean, wouldn't it?"
I ignored it, my gaze fixed on Killian.
He groaned and pushed himself up, dusting off his blazer with slow, deliberate movements. He wasn't attacking. Not yet. Instead, he looked at me with something almost resembling… curiosity.
"You're strong," Killian said, his voice steady despite his earlier defeat. "You don't move like a regular first-year."
I said nothing.
He smirked, brushing a strand of dark hair out of his eyes. "You're wasted on the sidelines. Someone like you should be… useful."
"Useful?" I echoed, my tone flat.
Killian nodded, the smirk widening. "Work with me. Join my crew. A talent like yours deserves privilege, respect—power. I can give you all that. Stick with me, and you'll be protected. You'll have everything you need."
I hadn't expected this. An offer? I didn't expect he was the type of guy to recruit someone who'd humiliated him. This wasn't generosity—it was calculation. He wanted me on his side because I was a threat, and threats were better controlled than left unchecked.
"I'm flattered," I said, keeping my tone light, "but I'm not interested."
Killian didn't seem surprised. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black card, extending it toward me.
"In case you change your mind," he said. "Think it over. There aren't many opportunities like this."
I took the card without hesitation. It had his name printed on it in embossed silver letters, along with a phone number.
He turned to leave, motioning for his goons to follow. They glanced at me warily before trailing after him, their swagger noticeably diminished.
I watched them go, my mind working rapidly. This wasn't a setback—it was an opportunity. Killian still didn't see me as a true enemy. The card in my hand was proof of that. My plan hadn't been ruined; it had simply evolved.
Once Killian was gone, I turned to Elise. She was still on the ground, her shoulders hunched and her breathing uneven.
"It's okay," I said softly, crouching down in front of her. "I don't think he will be bothering you for a while"
Her eyes snapped to mine, wide and distrustful. When I reached out to offer her a hand, she recoiled as if I'd struck her.
"What's wrong?" I asked, genuinely confused.
"It's none of your business," she muttered, her voice shaky but firm. She scrambled to her feet and brushed past me, breaking into a run.
I straightened, watching her retreating figure with a furrowed brow.
I just helped her. Why would she act like that?
People were supposed to be grateful when they were saved. That was how things worked, wasn't it? Yet Elise had run from me as though I was the threat.
Maybe I shouldn't have interfered. Maybe I should've just minded my own business.*l
The Echo chuckled faintly. "Humans are messy, aren't they? But her reaction… fascinating. Maybe she sees something in you that you don't."
I shook the thought away. I didn't have time to waste trying to understand her. Whatever her problem was, it didn't concern me.
The next day, Elise avoided me entirely. In class, she sat as far from me as possible, her posture stiff. When our eyes met by chance, she quickly looked away, her jaw tightening.
I didn't mind. If anything, it made things easier. Her absence would give me more freedom to carry out my plan without distractions.
When night fell, I was ready.
For stalking, I dressed simply but deliberately: a black long sleeve top that fit snugly and really brought out my physique, dark cargo pants, and lightweight crocs over this. I wanted to blend with the night but not look to suspicious at the same time. My hair was tied back neatly.
I slipped into the night, the campus quiet and still. The streetlights cast long, pale beams across the paths, and I kept to the shadows, my movements silent.
I'd scouted Killian earlier that day, noting his usual routes and hangout spots. If his pattern held, he'd be near the south wing of the academy, where the upperclassmen dorms were.
I moved with purpose, my mind calm and focused. This wasn't just stalking—it was reconnaissance. Observing Killian in his natural environment would give me insights into his habits, his weaknesses.
The south wing loomed ahead, its tall windows glowing faintly in the night. I found a vantage point—a cluster of trees near the edge of the courtyard—and waited.
Soon enough, Killian appeared. He was with his usual entourage, the hulking boy and the wiry one flanking him. They laughed and joked, their voices carrying faintly on the breeze.
I stayed still, my breathing shallow.
This wasn't just about watching. It was about learning, calculating, finding the cracks in his armor.
One step at a time, I thought. No mistakes.
And so, I watched, my mind already crafting the first threads of a plan.