Perfect! Since you're into it, I'll
The gates of Valemont University rose like black iron teeth against the gray October sky. Elara Quinn stepped out of the car in heels that clicked like a countdown. Her lips were red, her eyes unreadable behind dark sunglasses.
She didn't flinch as the wind blew back her coat, revealing a sleek silhouette and the cold glint of her determination. Everything about her screamed control.
She was finally back.
Back in the place where her life had been shattered.
But no one knew it yet.
Not that she was once Sera Vale—the girl who had laughed too loud, trusted too easily, and loved one boy too deeply.
Not that she had cried alone for months after the world turned its back on her.
Not that she had built herself from ruin, forged a new identity, and returned to burn everything down.
"Name?" the security officer asked, clipboard in hand.
"Elara Quinn," she replied smoothly.
He checked the list. "You're in Hawthorne House. Orientation's at noon. Welcome to Valemont."
She gave him a sharp smile, one she'd practiced in the mirror—polite, distant, charming. He looked away quickly. Men usually did.
As she walked through campus, memories threatened to rise like ghosts from the ivy-covered walls. Laughter behind closed doors. The weight of betrayal. Her name whispered like poison.
But she kept walking.
This time, she was the storm.
Jaxon Reed stood in front of the student union building, hands in the pockets of his designer coat, his gaze sharp and distant.
Everything about him still looked golden—messy dark hair, lazy smirk, expensive watch. The king of Valemont. Untouchable. Worshipped. Feared.
And he hadn't changed a bit.
Elara's jaw tightened.
He laughed at something one of his friends said, then looked up. For a split second, their eyes met.
She felt it. That jolt. That fury. That familiar ache.
But he didn't recognize her.
Of course he didn't.
He had buried Sera Vale a long time ago.
And now, Elara Quinn would bury him.