Page 9 of Devious Knight

Isabelle

Present day, Boston Raventhorn University

I should be safe here.

I just don’t feel safe.

I’ve come to learn that I’m never safe around him. Physically or emotionally.

My heart is beating as fast as a turbo engine and my lungs are so tight they might actually shatter.

Among the three thousand freshmen, sophomores and juniors here for the welcome back assembly, I’m like an ant swimming in the ocean. And we’re in a colosseum-style conference hall, so he shouldn’t even notice me.

But I know he will.

He already has.

I can feel those piercing, iridescent blue eyes on me.

And I can see him out of the corner of my eye.

He—Kade Gurkovsky—aka my nemesis, is sitting across the aisle from me, looking every bit like the Greek god he is.

His thick black hair is styled to perfection with a lazy lock hanging over one eye. Broad, athletic shoulders fill out his football varsity jacket, which emphasizes the rest of his muscular body. He looks way too built for a nineteen year old. Credit to his football and Knight training.

It’s funny. Greek god was exactly what I thought when I first saw him. Then I found out he really was Greek from his mother’s side.

Three years ago he moved from Orange County to live with his aunt and uncle in New York after his parents died. When he turned up at Raventhorn Academy looking all badass and broody my poor sixteen-year-old heart didn’t know what to do with itself.

I think I might have been obsessed. No. I don’t think. I know I was.

Something sinister whispers to me, telling me that part of me is still obsessed. The acknowledgment sends that annoying heat flowing through my veins.

Back in high school I thought the sun revolved around Kade, and the moon and the stars brightened at his command. I would have given anything for him to notice me. Now I wish he didn’t know me.

Something changed when we came to college. Something bad regarding me that I’m still trying to figure out.

I don’t know what the hell I did to him. All I know is that I don’t feel safe here anymore. Every moment feels like a ticking time bomb waiting to detonate.

And I have to admit that helped my decision to transfer to Cambridge University in England. Things aren’t finalized yet, but I’m practically in.

Two months ago I applied for their special scholarship program taught by my absolute idol, Christian Degas, a world-renowned sculptor.

I never expected to get in. Honestly, I was just trying for the sake of trying, but I got a conditional acceptance pending my entrance exam results, which I did and aced last month, and my application project, which I’m just finishing up.

Aside from that, the only thing I have left to do is the interview with Garner Potalov, the Lord Chancellor here, then a review of my project.

I’m seeing Chancellor Potalov on Friday, then he’ll schedule the review.

If all goes well—and it should—I’ll be heading to Cambridge in six weeks’ time.

It’s exciting to be chosen for something so amazing, but it means leaving the world of the Knights behind. Along with everyone I know. Even though I’m choosing to go, the saddest part about leaving Raventhorn is leaving.

I waited my whole life to come here. Everyone on both sides of my family attended Raventhorn University. I’ll be the first to transfer to a different college.

Conflict and sadness shroud my heart as I stare at the oil painting covering the wall ahead, depicting angels and demons in a deadly battle above the college campus.

I’ve always loved that painting because it captures the art and emotion behind the Gothic Revival architecture and monuments at Raventhorn.

---