THE SCHOLARSHIP GIRL
CHAPTER ONE
The Scholarship Girl
The first thing I learned about Blackthorn Academy was that nobody came here by accident.
The second was that nobody left the same person they were when they arrived.
I didn’t know that when the black car carried me through the iron gates.
All I knew was that I had one suitcase, a scholarship letter, and a photograph of my mother that I had stared at so many times the edges had gone soft.
The academy appeared through the fog: black towers, ivy-covered walls, and windows glowing gold against the gray afternoon.
The moment I looked at the highest tower, pain flashed through my wrist. My sleeve slipped back. For half a second, a black symbol appeared beneath my skin—a circle surrounded by seven thin lines.
Then it vanished.
Inside, hundreds of students turned toward me.
“Scholarship,” a girl whispered.
I kept walking.
Then I saw him.
Tall. Dark-haired. Perfect uniform, except for the loose tie around his neck. Everyone moved around him as if he owned the hallway.
“Cassian,” someone whispered.
His gray eyes met mine.
Shock crossed his face.
Then fear.
He walked toward me.
“Who are you?”
“Elara Vale.”
His jaw tightened.
“That’s impossible.”
“What is?”
He leaned closer.
“Your mother promised she’d never let you come here.”
My blood went cold.
“You knew my mother?”
“No.”
He walked away, then stopped.
“But she knew me.”
My mother had been dead for six years.
And she had never once mentioned Cassian Rook.
