Chapter 3 Step 1: Rattling him

CHAPTER 003

RAVENNA

I marched through the hallways of the Academy, my black knee-high boots smacking the polished floor with every step.

My biker gear felt like armor: tight black pants hugging my curves, a plain white top, and my favorite black jacket that screamed I didn’t give a damn what anyone thought. My red hair bounced as I moved, catching the light, and I could feel the energy around me.

Samantha kept up beside me, her jeans and sweater making her look like she was trying to blend in. Me? I wasn’t here to disappear.

The other students who were lined up around the hallway stared as we passed, their eyes glued to me like I was some kind of alien. I didn't miss the whispers that followed us, sharp and petty.

“The new human girl's acting like she owns the place,” some guy muttered, loud enough to make sure I heard.

“Seriously, that outfit? On the day of her first class? What does she think this academy is? She’s trying way too hard,” a girl with a high ponytail said, her voice all snark.

“Bet she’s just here to flex,” another voice added.

I didn’t bother looking at them. Their words were just noise, and I wasn’t here to play their game. Samantha glanced at me, her eyes saying "let it go", but I kept my gaze straight ahead, jaw tight. I didn’t care what they thought. Never had. I was here for a mission and my most important problem is seeing it happen

We got to our lockers, mine right next to hers. I yanked mine open, grabbed my English textbook, and slammed it shut with a loud clang.

Samantha pulled out her book, leaning over to whisper, “They’re just jealous, you know.”

“Let them be,” I said, keeping my voice low. “I’m not here to kiss up to anyone.”

We headed to the lecture hall, weaving through the last stragglers in the hallway. When we pushed open the heavy double doors, the room was already alive with the hum of a lecture.

The heads of students turned as we stepped inside, and I felt the weight of their stares again.

The lecturer, a tall guy with wire-rimmed glasses and a crisp shirt, stopped talking and raised an eyebrow.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice cutting through the room. “Names?”

“Ravenna,” I said, meeting his eyes without blinking. “This is Samantha.”

“Sorry, Professor Bonn,” Samantha mumbled, sounding nervous. “We got held up.”

Bonn waved us off. “Find a seat. Don’t make it a habit though.”

I scanned the room and spotted two empty seats right up front. Perfect. I led the way, ignoring the curious looks from the other students. Samantha slid into the chair next to me as I dropped my textbook on the desk with a thud. I leaned back, crossing my arms, ready to zone out through whatever boring lecture was coming.

Bonn paced in front of the whiteboard, holding up a copy of "Belladonna" by Adalyn Grace. “Today, we’re diving into a sensitive scene,” he said. “Chapter twelve, where Signa confronts Death after learning his role in her family’s tragedy. Think about the emotional weight here. Signa’s dealing with betrayal, loss, and Death as a real, tangible figure. Let’s discuss.”

He flipped open his book and read, his voice steady: “‘Signa stared into Death’s eyes, her heart torn between rage and grief. He was no mere shadow but a force that had shaped her life, taken her family, and now stood before her, unapologetic. “Why?” she demanded, her voice shaking. “Why did you take them?”’

He shut the book and looked at us. “What does this confrontation reveal about Signa’s relationship with Death? Anyone?”

The room went dead quiet. A few kids flipped through their books, probably hoping the answer would magically appear. My hand shot up before I could stop myself.

Samantha nudged me under the desk. “Ravenna, don’t,” she hissed. “You’re gonna draw too much attention.”

I ignored her, keeping my hand up. Bonn’s eyes landed on me. “You, the latecomer. Name again?”

“Ravenna,” I answered with an eye roll.

“Alright, Ravenna. Shoot.”

I leaned forward, my red hair spilling over one shoulder. “Signa’s confrontation shows she’s not just scared of Death—she’s pissed, but she’s also drawn to him. It’s like she hates him for what he’s done, but she can’t push him away because he’s the only one who gets her power. It’s messy, like she’s stuck between wanting to punch him and needing him.”

Bonn nodded, his face giving nothing away. “Interesting. And what does Death’s response… or lack of one…tell us about his character here?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but a voice cut in from the back. “It’s not just about mortality,” a guy said, his tone hurried, like he was trying to take over. “It’s about control. Signa’s trying to take control of her life, but Death represents everything she can’t control.”

I turned to see who it was. Darius of course. The fucking guy that made me came to this academy in the first place. Asteria never told me he was a brilliant lad. I smirked as I understood the present situation, he was feeling rivalled.

I turned back to Bonn, ignoring Darius. “It’s both,” I said. “Mortality and control are tied together. Signa’s fighting to understand why her family died, but she’s also fighting to prove she’s not just Death’s victim. She wants to rewrite the rules, but she’s learning she can’t always win.”

Bonn’s lips twitched, like he was impressed but trying not to show it. “Well said, Ravenna. Let’s go deeper. Why does Death’s presence feel so personal to Signa, rather than abstract?”

My hand went up again, but Darius jumped in before I could speak. “Because he’s not just a concept to her,” he said, his voice tight, like I’d already gotten under his skin. “He’s literally in her life, talking to her, shaping her choices. It’s personal because he’s made it that way.”

I spun in my seat to face him. “That’s only half of it,” I said, keeping my tone even but I couldn't help but snap at him. I didn't expect him to stop so low to such an answer.

“It’s personal because Signa’s tied to him through her own power. She’s not just dealing with Death as some guy who shows up but she’s dealing with the fact that she’s got a piece of him in her. That’s what makes it feel like a betrayal when he doesn’t give her the answers she wants.”

Darius’s jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed. “That’s a stretch,” he said, his voice low and annoyed. “She’s not part of him. She’s just caught up in his game.”

“No, she’s not,” I shot back. “Her power comes from the same place as his. That’s why she can see him, talk to him. She’s not just a pawn, she’s a player, and he knows it. That’s what scares her and makes her keep coming back to him.”

The room was dead silent now. Everyone was staring at me, their eyes bouncing between me and Darius like we were in a cage match.

Samantha whispered, “Ravenna, stop,” but I wasn’t about to back down. Not to him. Not when this means a lot to me. Crawling under his skin would be the perfect way to get closer to him.

Darius leaned forward, his voice practically a growl. “You’re giving her too much credit. She’s not on his level. Death’s untouchable, and she’s just a girl who’s in over her head.”

I smirked, not breaking eye contact. “If she’s so out of her depth, why does Death keep showing up? He’s not there for fun. He sees something in her, and it’s not just some sad little girl. She’s a threat to him, and he knows it.”

Darius opened his mouth to argue, but Bonn cut in. “Enough,” he said, raising a hand. “You’ve both made strong points. Ravenna, excellent analysis. Darius, solid counter, but let’s keep it civil.”

Darius leaned back, his face like a storm cloud, his fingers tapping hard on his desk.

I caught his eye and gave him a quick smirk, just to mess with him. He looked like he wanted to snap my neck, but I turned back to the front, unbothered. If he thought he could scare me off, he was in for a surprise.

Bonn asked another question about the symbolism of Death’s cloak, but I was still thinking about Darius. I could feel his glare burning into the back of my head, and it only made me sit up straighter. "Bring it on, golden boy."

When the lecture ended, Bonn called me up to the front. The room was clearing out, but a few kids hung back, pretending they weren’t listening. Darius and his buddies were still in the back, whispering and throwing looks my way.

“Ravenna,” Bonn said, adjusting his glasses. “That was some sharp thinking today. You’ve got a real knack for this. I also oversee the academy’s sports programs. Any extracurriculars you’re planning to join?”

A few kids nearby laughed, like the idea of me doing anything but causing trouble was a joke.

Bonn shot them a look, and they shut up fast.

I grinned, leaning against the desk. “Thanks, Professor. I’m from a biker family, so I’m pretty good on a motorcycle. I've been riding since I was a kid.”

Some idiot snickered again, but Bonn’s glare silenced them. “Biking’s not an option here,” he said. “Anything else you’re thinking about?”

I paused, my eyes drifting to the back where Darius was standing with his friends, his arms crossed, still glaring like I’d stolen his spotlight. His buddies were muttering, probably trashing me.

A spark of mischief hit me, this would be one step out of many I needed to take to fulfill my mission.

I turned back to Bonn, my smirk growing. “You know what? I think I’ll try out for the hockey team.”

The room exploded with murmurs. Someone gasped, and another kid muttered, “She’s nuts.”

Darius’s eyes narrowed to slits, his face a mix of shock and rage. Bonn raised an eyebrow. “Hockey’s tough, Ravenna. The team’s competitive. And it's a no go area for humans since they tend to be quite weak. And I'm not discouraging you but are you sure about this?”

I shrugged, my voice calm but full of confidence. “I’m sure. I’ll be at tryouts this afternoon. And trust me, I’m gonna shock y'all with my performance.”