VIVIAN

The golden sunlight filtered through the sheer, ivory curtains, casting a warm, dappled glow across the dorm room. For the first time in what felt like forever, I didn't want to roll over and hide from it.

I stretched like a cat, limbs tangled in the soft white sheets, my hair a wild mess sprawled across the pillow. A satisfied sigh left my lips as the memory of last night rushed back—throbbing bass, wild dancing, and laughter shared with strangers who didn't know my last name or the scandal that once defined me. The club had been chaotic, intoxicating, loud. It was the kind of night I used to crave.

But this time... it had felt different.

Maybe because I felt different.

This was a new start. A real one. For once, I didn't have to wake up and dive straight into a rigid schedule—no 6 a.m. cardio, no flavorless salads portioned to the gram. Just freedom. A new city. A new campus. A place where no one whispered my name like it was either a legend or a curse.

I glanced at the time. Somehow, I was up early—despite the jet lag and the residual fog from last night's drinks.

My phone buzzed.

Group Orientation: 9:00 AM. Don't be late! —Sean (your campus guide)

I still had the weekend before classes began, and I wanted to soak in every second of it—exploring the campus, meeting people, and just... being. This orientation seemed like the perfect way to start.

I'd already met my roommate, Talia. A scholarship student—one of only five in our year. She was nervous, understandably, especially surrounded by trust fund kids and old money legacies. But I told her she'd be fine. More than fine. We'd even made plans to go out again tonight.

Eli hadn't messaged, which meant I had the day to myself. Perfect.

Throwing off the covers, I made a beeline for the tiny en-suite bathroom. Hot water sluiced over my skin, washing away the sleep, and when I stepped out, I felt refreshed and alive.

I pulled on a white knit top with a delicate square neckline, tucked it into a black pleated skirt, and paired the look with crisp white sneakers. A casual outfit, but effortlessly stylish. Slinging my crossbody bag over my shoulder, I stepped out into the day.

The campus was already buzzing with life. A soft breeze rustled through the tall oaks lining the pathways, carrying the scent of fresh-cut grass and brewed coffee. Laughter echoed from different corners, bikes zipped by, and clusters of students lounged under trees, their lanyards swinging and iced coffees in hand. The energy was electric—fresh, filled with promise.

God, I could kill for a coffee right now.

As I made my way toward the academic block, I spotted a familiar face waving at me from a circle of students. Sean. My campus guide.

I was about to wave back—when I felt it.

Not a touch. Not a sound. But that unmistakable presence. Protective. Grounding. Familiar in a way that made my chest ache.

"Viv."

I turned slowly, already knowing who I would see.

Creighton.

His icy-blue eyes met mine, and I didn't hesitate—I threw myself into his arms.

"Creigh!" My voice cracked with emotion as his arms wrapped around me, firm and comforting. I hadn't realized how much I missed this—missed him—until now.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look at me. "What are you doing here?" he asked, half-laughing, his voice laced with a warmth that mirrored my own.

"I could ask you the same thing," I replied, unable to stop smiling.

"You were supposed to meet me when you arrived," he said, his expression softening. "I tried calling."

"You did?" I blinked. "I was with Eli—he took me to the Kickoff Party. Didn't he tell you?"

Creigh's confused frown answered that for me.

"I was out, having fun," I said with a light laugh, shrugging. "Isn't that what college is for?"

His gaze dropped for a second, scanning me like he was trying to read between the lines. "You look... happy."

"I am happy." My arms crossed over my chest, defiant but lighthearted. "Is that so hard to believe?"

He shook his head, almost smiling. "No. I was just worried, that's all." His eyes drifted to the group still waiting for me—Sean looked like he was mid-sentence, possibly wondering if I was ditching.

"Mind skipping the tour for brunch with your big brother?" Creighton asked, the corners of his mouth lifting in that familiar soft grin.

"I wouldn't love anything more," I said with a chuckle, already walking with him.

-x-x-x-x-

"...And then we laughed all night!" I giggled, barely able to finish the story without bursting into full-blown laughter. My eyes were watery from how much I'd smiled since we sat down.

Creighton's deep chuckle rumbled across the small café table every few minutes—his way of showing he was happy to be here, even if he wasn't saying it outright. I'd been talking nonstop, rambling about my ridiculous Paris adventures, and he'd been listening, every word soaking in like water to drought.

We'd found a cozy corner table at a charming little café near campus. Floor-to-ceiling windows spilled golden sunlight onto the polished wood, warming my skin and illuminating dust motes that danced lazily in the air. The scent of espresso and cinnamon pastries drifted through the room, grounding me in the moment.

I sipped my iced Americano, twirling my fork absently.

Creighton watched me for a moment. There was something unsaid in his eyes. He shifted in his seat, spreading his legs under the table like he was settling into heavier territory.

"What's going on, Creigh? You've been holding something back since we sat down."

He sighed, leaning slightly forward. "I heard about your... engagement. From Dad."

And just like that, my smile cracked.

"Is he already calling it an engagement?" I muttered, the words laced with irritation. "When I found out, it was a proposal—barely that."

"I know you're not happy about it," he said gently. "But Dad wants—"

"I don't care what Dad wants, Creigh." My voice rose, then dropped as frustration overtook me. "This is my life. Mine. He's never tried to control it before, so why now? Why this?"

Creighton's expression turned somber, and that hurt more than anything.

"You've changed," he said, not accusingly—proudly.

"I had to," I whispered. "The girl from before? She didn't survive the scandal. I did."

He nodded slowly, offering a look that steadied me more than I expected.

"I can't interfere," he said. "But if anything happens—anything—you call me. If I have to fight Dad himself to get you what you deserve, I'll do it. Just like the old times."

"Just like the old times," I echoed, a genuine smile blooming again.

The tension broke. We drifted into lighter conversation—he told me about Annika, and I begged to meet her soon. He promised to set it up. I was still grinning, still sipping my drink, when my phone buzzed.

An unknown number.

My eyes scanned the message. Following the strings of words, forming the sentences.

The grin vanished.

A frown took its place.

Creighton noticed immediately. "What is it?"

"I... I don't know," I murmured, staring at the screen. "It's an invitation."

His entire demeanor shifted. A subtle change in posture, a tightness in the air between us.

"Invitation to what?" he asked, voice low and careful.

I looked up, my voice barely above a whisper.

"A Heathens' Initiation."

-x-x-x-x-

This is the end of Chapter 8. A rather short chapter. I had to divide one chapter into two because it was getting way too long. Plus I felt this would be the perfect cliffhanger to end this chapter on. What do you think? Are we liking the pace and the build up to the ultimate encounter? Let me know your views here in comments or on my Instagram (: paperhearts.x and authornephthys) Don't forget to vote! Happy Reading.

Thank you so much

Nephthys