Chapter 7: There is a Seat on the Floor

Blair stared at the ceiling of her room. She had been staring at it for roughly five hours.

The lumpy, thin mattress did her back no favors, but it was the adrenaline pumping through her veins that kept her completely wide awake. Today was the first official day of classes.

She was terrified. She was dreading her evening detention in the armory with the terrifying Crow professor. But underneath the paralyzing fear of being hunted by the Crown Prince and hated by her teacher, a tiny, irrepressible spark of excitement fluttered in her chest.

She was actually going to learn. No more scavenging half-burnt textbooks from dumpsters. She was a student at the most prestigious academy in the world.

"You look like a raccoon that got hit by a truck," Heather observed brightly.

Blair blinked, turning her head. Heather was already fully dressed, her gray uniform somehow tailored overnight to hug her curves perfectly. She was brushing a coat of mascara onto her lashes.

"Good morning to you, too," Blair groaned, dragging herself out of bed. She trudged to the tiny bathroom, splashing cold water on her face.

"I’ve got Advanced Flora and Fauna first period," Heather announced, tossing her makeup bag onto her desk. "Which means I’ll be in the greenhouses. Very close to the Wolf faction’s morning training grounds."

"I have History of the Beast World," Blair said, pulling her gray sweater over her head. "With Professor Feron."

Heather winced. "Oof. Try not to breathe too loudly. I’ll see you at lunch! If you survive!"

Heather bounced out of the room, leaving a cloud of vanilla perfume in her wake. Blair grabbed her canvas bag, took a deep breath, and stepped out into the hallway.

The human dorms were buzzing with nervous energy. Students hurried past each other, heads down, eyes darting around. As Blair walked down the stairs, a small hand suddenly darted out from behind the stairwell, grabbing her sleeve.

Blair flinched, ready to fight, but stopped when she saw the face.

It was the human girl from the classroom yesterday. The one the Boar had cornered. She looked exhausted, her eyes red and puffy, but she was fully dressed in a new uniform.

"Hey," Blair whispered, looking around to make sure no beastmen were in the halls. "Are you okay?"

The girl nodded quickly, tears welling in her eyes. "I... I just wanted to say thank you. For yesterday. You saved my life."

"You don’t have to thank me," Blair said softly.

"I do," the girl insisted, her voice trembling. "But... everyone thinks you’re cursed. I... I can’t be seen with you. I’m so sorry."

Before Blair could say another word, the girl let go of her sleeve and scurried down the hallway, vanishing into the crowd of gray uniforms.

Blair stood alone on the stairs, a heavy weight settling in her stomach. Cursed. The other humans weren’t just going to avoid her; they were terrified she was going to bring the wrath of the royals down on all of them.

She tightened her grip on her bag strap and began the long trek across campus to the North Tower.

Room 402 was already half full when she arrived. Blair slipped through the doorway, her eyes scanning the tiered seating. Several humans were clustered in the middle rows, keeping strictly to themselves.

Hoping to go unnoticed, Blair walked up the side aisle and moved to take an empty desk near the window.

Before she could even slide into the chair, a hand slammed flat onto the desktop.

Blair jumped. Standing over her was a stunning beastwoman with golden skin and dark spots dusting her cheekbones. A Leopard beastwoman. Her golden eyes narrowed into slits, her long tail flicking lazily behind her.

"Excuse me, pet," the Leopard purred, her voice dripping with venom. "But this is my seat."

Blair swallowed hard. The room was mostly empty. There were dozens of open desks. "Oh. I’m sorry. I’ll just..."

Blair took a step back and moved to the desk directly behind it.

Instantly, a second beastwoman: a Hyena with sharp, jagged teeth, threw her leather bag onto the chair. "Taken."

Blair’s cheeks flushed hot. The low murmur of the classroom had stopped. Everyone was watching. She looked over at the cluster of human students in the center rows. Every single one of them had suddenly found their shoes incredibly interesting. They stared at the floor, terrified, refusing to make eye contact.

Don’t make a scene, Blair told herself. Just walk away.

She moved to the opposite side of the aisle, reaching for a desk in the back corner.

The Leopard beastwoman moved with unreal speed, stepping into the aisle and blocking Blair’s path. Two more beastwomen flanked her, forming an impenetrable wall of muscle and designer uniforms.

"Are you deaf, lesser?" the Leopard hissed, leaning down so she was eye-level with Blair. She extended her hand, her nails suddenly elongating into sharp, deadly claws. She tapped a claw against Blair’s collarbone. "You don’t get to sit in a chair. Chairs are for students. Pets sit on the floor."

The beastwomen behind her snickered.

Blair’s heart hammered against her ribs. She looked at the sharp claws resting against her chest. She remembered the demerits from yesterday. If she fought back, she would be expelled...or worse.

Humiliation burned the back of her throat like acid. Slowly, Blair backed away from the desks. She walked to the very back wall of the classroom, out of the aisles, and slid down the cool plaster until she was sitting cross-legged on the wooden floorboards.

The Leopard beastwoman smirked in triumph, turning around and loudly claiming a desk in the front row.

Blair hugged her knees to her chest, pulling out her notebook and resting it on her lap. She kept her head bowed, her hair falling like a curtain to hide the hot tears of frustration pricking her eyes. She felt so incredibly small.

CLACK.

The sound of a textbook slamming onto the professor’s podium echoed through the room.

The temperature in the classroom seemed to drop ten degrees.

Professor Jack Feron stood at the front of the room. He hadn’t used the door; it was as if he had simply materialized from the shadows. His black wings were folded tightly behind him, and his suit was immaculate.

His blood-red eyes swept over the classroom, instantly taking in the chaos. Beastmen were still standing in the aisles, chatting loudly.

"Silence," Jack commanded.

He didn’t yell. He didn’t have to. The sheer authority in his voice snapped the classroom into immediate obedience. The beastmen froze.

"This is an academic institution," Jack said coldly, his eyes piercing through the crowd. "Not a breeding ground for wild animals. Clear the aisles. Take your seats. Now."

The beastwomen who had been blocking Blair scrambled in a panic, terrified of drawing the Crow’s ire. They practically threw themselves into the nearest empty desks.

Blair didn’t hesitate. Taking advantage of the distraction, she scrambled up from the floor and slipped silently into the back corner desk, sinking low into the wooden chair.

Jack watched the room settle. His gaze swept over the back row, his red eyes locking onto Blair for a fraction of a second.

"Page one," Jack stated, turning to the chalkboard.

For the next hour, Blair was transported.

She kept her head down to avoid Jack’s terrifying gaze, but she couldn’t tear her focus away from his words. Despite how cruel he was, Jack Feron was a brilliant educator. He didn’t just read from the book; he painted a vivid, complex picture of the Beast World’s history, perfectly detailing the Great Spatial Rift that had merged their worlds.

Blair’s pen flew across her notebook. She absorbed every date, every political shift, every nuance of the beast factions. The humiliation of the morning melted away. The fear of her impending detention faded into the background.

For the first time since she arrived at Apex Academy, Blair felt like she could breathe. The classroom was hostile, the teacher despised her, and the students wanted her dead, but the knowledge was hers for the taking.

When the bell finally rang, signaling the end of the period, Blair was actually disappointed.

She snapped her notebook shut as the rest of the students practically sprinted out the door to escape Jack’s presence. Blair packed her bag quickly, keeping her eyes glued to the floor, ready to slip out unnoticed.

"Miss Willows."

Blair froze in the doorway.

She slowly turned around. The classroom was empty. Jack was standing behind his podium, organizing a stack of papers. He didn’t look up at her.

"Sir?" Blair asked, her voice tight.

"The armory. Eight o’clock sharp," Jack said coldly, his red eyes finally flicking up to meet hers. "Do not be late."

Blair swallowed the lump in her throat, her brief moment of academic joy instantly crashing back into terrifying reality.

"I won’t be, Professor," she whispered, turning and hurrying out into the hallway.