The ferry groaned against the crashing waves as it neared the jagged cliffs of Ravencrest Island. Lena Cross pressed her hands against the cold metal railing, the salty wind tugging strands of her dark hair into her eyes. Ahead, the sprawling stone walls of Blackthorn Academy rose like a fortress, weathered but proud against the gray sky.
For most students, this would be the beginning of an exciting new chapter—fresh friendships, late-night study sessions, and a chance to prove themselves. For Lena, it was a cage.
"You don't look like you belong here."
The voice was sudden, cutting through the howl of the wind.
Lena spun around. A boy leaned casually against the railing not far from her—jet-black hair tousled by the sea breeze, eyes sharp and dangerous, a crooked smirk tugging at his lips.
"Jax Wilder," he said smoothly. "And you are?"
"Lena Cross," she replied, her tone clipped and guarded.
Jax raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his gaze. "Lena, huh? Well, welcome to the jungle."
She didn't smile. Something about him grated on her nerves—the way he wore his uniform like a joke, the way his eyes flicked with mischief and challenge.
"This isn't just any school," Jax continued, eyes scanning the rocky island. "Blackthorn changes people. You'll see."
Lena looked away, jaw tightening. She wasn't here to make friends or play games. She was here to survive.
The ferry shuddered as it docked. Around them, students bustled down the gangplank, laughing and chatting excitedly. Lena's heart hammered—not with excitement, but with cold dread.
Whatever awaited inside those gates, it was about to begin.
And Jax Wilder? He was already trouble.
Behind Lena's fierce exterior were secrets she dared not share. And Jax? He was hiding scars of his own.
The gates creaked open. The island swallowed them whole.
[To be continued…]