The gravel crunched under my boots as I followed Chen Yue toward the farthest cabin on the perimeter. The rest of the class was still a buzzing hive of resentment and shock back at the buses, but out here, the towering oaks and thick pines swallowed the noise.
The heavy logs of Cabin Seven groaned as the wind picked up, whistling through the gaps in the rock formation. Outside, the flashlights of the faculty patrolled the perimeter. Unlike the library or my workshop, this wasn't a space I controlled. We were under the thumb of the school officials, specifically Mr. Henderson, the PE teacher and head chaperone, who took his job with the militant seriousness of a failed drill sergeant.
Mr. Henderson stood at the door for the final "lights out" check, his flashlight beam cutting through the dim cabin like a searchlight.
"Chaycer. Chen," he barked, his eyes scanning the room. He lingered on the two separate twin beds, his brow furrowed. "I don't care what 'clerical error' put you two in here. This is a school outing, not a honeymoon. I catch so much as a shadow crossing the gap between these beds, and you'll both be on a bus back to Rokehurst before dawn. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal, Mr. Henderson," I said, leaning back against my pillow with a bored expression.
"Perfectly," Chen Yue added, her voice a smooth, innocent chime.
As soon as his heavy boots thudded off the porch and his flashlight faded into the trees, the atmosphere in the room shifted. The "innocence" evaporated from Chen Yue's face, replaced by that sharp, proactive hunger that made the air feel thin.
Chen Yue didn't just unpack; she curated an environment. She moved with a feline grace, hanging silk garments on the rough-hewn pegs. She turned to me, her eyes tracking the way I took in her presence.
"Henderson is a blunt instrument," she said, her voice dropping into a feline purr. She stepped toward me, her proximity forcing me to acknowledge the sheer, proactive energy she radiated. She reached out and straightened the collar of my shirt, her fingers lingering against my neck—precisely where Sylvia's mark was hidden.
"Rishie looks like she's ready to commit arson," Chen Yue whispered, her lips inches from mine. "And the boys... they're currently debating which one of them gets to 'accidently' trip you into the creek tonight. You've become a very expensive target, Lucas. I think you need a partner who knows how to manage assets of your caliber."
She didn't kiss me. She just smiled—a sharp, knowing expression—and turned back to her suitcase. "Unpack. We have a campfire to attend, and I'd hate for you to be late to your own execution."
By 8:00 PM, the clearing was dominated by a roaring fire. Mr. Henderson and the other chaperones sat on a raised platform, nursing thermoses of coffee and watching us like hawks. The atmosphere was thick with woodsmoke and a primitive, simmering hostility among the students.
I sat on a log, the Intellect overlay in my vision tagging every threat.
[ HOSTILE TARGETS DETECTED: 8 ]
[ PRIMARY AGGRESSOR: STEVENS ]
[ MORALE: HIGH (FUELLED BY PEER PRESSURE) ]
Rishie was sitting across the fire, her face flickering in the orange light. She was pointedly not looking at me. But Chen Yue? She sat right next to me, her shoulder pressing against mine, a blatant declaration of territory.
Stevens finally snapped. He stood up, his shadow stretching across the dirt. "So, Chaycer. Nice cabin. Nice girl. Funny how things just work out for you the moment Brad's family gets hit by the feds. Almost makes it look like you knew something."
"Luck favors the prepared, Stevens," I said, not moving a muscle.
Stevens lunged—a clumsy, beer-fueled tackle. I didn't even have to stand. I used the Combat Analytics to gauge his trajectory.
As he reached me, I simply pivoted my weight, catching his momentum and guiding his face toward the dirt. Before he could scramble up, Henderson's whistle shrieked through the air.
"STEVENS! BACK TO YOUR CABIN! NOW!" Henderson roared from the shadows.
The intervention was a reminder: we were being watched. But as Stevens crawled away, Chen Yue leaned into my ear, her breath hot.
"He saved you from a bruise, Lucas. But he can't save you from me."
Late that night, the cabin was silent. The only light came from the dying embers in the stove. I was sitting on the edge of my bed when Chen Yue walked over. She was in a short, silk robe that shimmered like liquid moonlight.
She sat on the edge of my bed, her weight shifting the mattress. "Henderson is doing his rounds," she whispered. "He'll be back in twenty minutes. That's a very narrow window for a 'merger'."
She pushed me back against the pillows, her proactive nature taking full control. She wasn't waiting for a clerical error anymore; she was creating a fact.
"I know it was you," she said, her hand sliding up my arm. "The audit. The Millers. I want to see what a Behemoth is capable of when the lights go out."
She leaned down, her lips finding the hollow of my throat. The risk of Henderson's flashlight hitting the window only added to the electric tension.
[ SYSTEM ALERT: LUST CONVERSION INITIATED ]
[ TARGET: CHEN YUE ]
[ STATUS: DOMINANT / EXPLORATORY ]
"Show me the man who broke the Millers," she whispered.