Chapter 28- Elena acting Brave

Her blood ran cold.

"W-what..."

The word came out barely above a whisper, her voice strangled by disbelief and horror.

Marla stared at the writing, her mind refusing to process what she was seeing.

’He was here. In my apartment. In my room.’

Her hands clutched the bedsheet so tightly her knuckles went white.

’How did he get in? How did he know where I live? How did he—’

The questions spiraled out of control, each one more terrifying than the last.

But the worst part—the part that made her stomach twist with nausea—

Was that her body still felt ’warm’.

Her lips were still tingling. Her nipples were still hard. Her pussy was still wet, throbbing with unfulfilled need that made her want to scream.

He’d touched her. Kissed her. ’Claimed’ her.

And then he’d just... left.

Marla’s gaze snapped back to the glowing words on the wall.

"Too irresistible," she repeated, her voice hollow.

Like it was a ’joke’.

Like he’d just played with her and walked away because she was entertaining.

Her hands started shaking. Not from fear.

From ’rage’.

"You son of a bitch," Marla hissed through clenched teeth, her yellow eyes blazing as she stared at that mocking message.

"I will definitely make you regret touching me, Raven Lustre...."

----

The air in the hallway rippled once—a brief shimmer like heat distortion—and then Raven was just ’there’.

Materialized out of nothing.

Hands tucked in his pockets, shoulders relaxed, walking like he’d been there the whole time.

Students passed by without a second glance, too absorbed in their own bullshit to notice anything strange.

Classes had just let out, leaving the corridors packed with bodies moving in every direction—backpacks knocking into each other, conversations overlapping, the usual chaos of university life.

Raven moved through it all like a ghost, his mind half-elsewhere as he navigated the crowd on autopilot.

Then he heard it.

"Hey Gareth! Coach is calling for you!"

The voice came from far away—way too far for a normal person to hear over the ambient noise.

But Raven’s head turned slightly, his enhanced hearing locking onto the sound like a predator tracking prey.

His eyes scanned the distance, cutting through the bodies and architecture until he found the source.

There.

About five hundred meters away, across the main courtyard near the sports complex.

Standing on one of the balconies overlooking the garden was a muscular figure—massive frame, broad shoulders, the kind of build that made doorways look like suggestions rather than requirements.

Gareth Ironhold.

Well, not ’that’ Gareth. Not the hero with the Titan bloodline who could level mountains.

This one was just a college athlete. Powerful for a human, sure. But nothing compared to what he’d ’become’ after the transmigration event that was coming.

Raven’s lips curved into a slow, predatory smile.

"Here you are, muscle head," he muttered under his breath.

Gareth was moving down the garden path now, followed by a cluster of his teammates—other jock types who probably spent more time at the gym than in lecture halls.

They were laughing about something, shoving each other in that performative way guys did when they needed everyone to know they were ’bros’.

But then Gareth’s phone rang.

Even from this distance, Raven could hear it. Could see the way Gareth’s expression shifted from casual amusement to irritation as he pulled the phone out and glanced at the screen.

He answered it with a scowl.

"I get it, come on now—shut up, Mom... I am not a child."

His voice carried across the courtyard, defensive and embarrassed.

His friends immediately started snickering, making exaggerated "mama’s boy" gestures behind his back.

Gareth’s face flushed red as he waved them off, turning away to finish the call in relative privacy.

Raven watched the whole exchange with cold calculation, his smile widening into something sharp and cruel.

’So the muscle head has a weakness.’

A mother he’s close to. Close enough to get embarrassed when she calls. Close enough to care what she thinks.

That was ’leverage’.

"How pitiful," Raven murmured, shaking his head with mock sympathy. "That poor mother... having to deal with a son like him."

His eyes narrowed, the smile turning darker.

"She deserves better."

The words hung in the air for a moment, loaded with implications that had nothing to do with sympathy.

Then a voice cut through his thoughts.

"Here you are."

Raven turned, and there she was.

Elena.

Standing about ten feet away, her arms crossed over her chest, those sharp blue eyes locked onto him with an intensity that would’ve made most people uncomfortable.

She looked slightly out of breath—like she’d been searching for him. Moving through the building trying to track him down.

And judging by the set of her jaw, she had questions.

Raven smiled, easy and casual, like they were old friends running into each other by chance.

"Hi."

Elena didn’t return the smile.

She moved closer, closing the distance until they were standing just a few feet apart, her gaze never leaving his face.

"I saw you vanish," she said bluntly, no preamble. "In the classroom. You were there, then you weren’t, then you ’were’ again."

Raven tilted his head slightly, his expression giving away nothing.

"Yeah? Maybe you blinked."

"I didn’t blink."

"Then maybe you’re seeing things."

Her eyes narrowed. "I’m not crazy."

"Didn’t say you were." Raven shrugged, hands still in his pockets. "But people see weird shit all the time. Optical illusions. Stress hallucinations. Your brain filling in gaps that aren’t really there."

Elena’s jaw clenched, frustration bleeding into her carefully controlled expression.

"That’s not what happened."

"Then what ’did’ happen?"

She opened her mouth to respond—then stopped, clearly realizing she didn’t have a good answer.

Because what was she supposed to say? ’You teleported’? ’You turned invisible’?

She didn’t have proof. Just instinct and observation.

Raven watched her struggle with it, something cold and amused flickering behind his eyes.

"Look," he said, his tone shifting to something almost dismissive. "I don’t know what you think you saw, but it’s got nothing to do with you."

Elena blinked, thrown off by the sudden shift. "What?"

"You. Me. Whatever this is." He gestured vaguely between them. "You’re nothing to me. Just another student in another class. So whatever theories you’re building in that head of yours? Drop it."

The words landed like a slap.

Elena’s expression flickered—surprise, then something that might’ve been hurt, quickly covered by a flash of anger.

"Nothing?" she repeated, her voice dropping an octave.

"Yeah. Nothing."

For a long moment, she just stared at him.

And then something ’shifted’ in her eyes.

Just for a second—so brief Raven almost missed it—her blue irises seemed to ’glow’. Not brightly. Not obviously.

But enough.

Enough for him to feel something visceral and ’wrong’ ripple through the air between them.

’There it is.’

Before he could process it further, Elena moved.

She closed the distance in one swift step and ’shoved’ him backward, her hands slamming against his chest with surprising force.

Raven let her do it—let his back hit the wall with a dull ’thud’—because he wanted to see where this was going.

Wanted to see what that dormant vampire instinct would make her do.

Elena pinned him there, one hand pressed flat against his sternum, the other braced against the wall beside his head.

Her face was inches from his now, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off her skin.

Close enough to see the way her pupils had dilated slightly, the faint tremor in her breath.

"You think this is funny?" she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. "You think you can just—"