Claimed by the Viper King

Chapter 1

Macy.

“End of the line, kid.”

The taxi driver’s voice was gravelly, bored. He didn't even turn around.

I peered through the rain-streaked window. “This is it? St. Augustine’s Academy?”

“Says so on the big scary gate we just drove through.” He finally glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Looks more like a castle for vampires if you ask me.”

He wasn’t wrong. The main building was a gothic monster of dark stone and pointed arches, looming out of the stormy night. It swallowed the light from the car’s headlamps.

“It’s just a school,” I said, my voice sounding small.

“Yeah,” he grunted. “A school for kids with more money than God. You one of them?”

I clutched the strap of my worn backpack. “No. I’m on a scholarship.”

The driver let out a short, humorless laugh. “A lamb among wolves. Good luck with that, kid.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“Here’s some free advice,” he said, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror again. “Keep your head down. Don't make friends. And whatever you do, don't look the lions in the eye.”

He pulled to a stop. The meter was already more than I could really afford.

“That’ll be sixty-five dollars.”

I paid him, my hands shaking a little as I pulled the crumpled bills from my pocket. I grabbed my single suitcase and my backpack, stepping out into the cold, driving rain.

The taxi drove off without a backward glance, its red tail lights disappearing into the blackness, leaving me completely alone.

So this was it. My new life. My escape.

The wind whipped the rain into my face, plastering my hair to my cheeks. My phone screen was slick with water as I tried to pull up the campus map.

“Hawthorne House,” I mumbled to myself. “Where is Hawthorne House?”

The map glitched, the little blue dot of my location dancing erratically. Useless.

I saw a faint light glowing near the edge of a dark, churning lake. Maybe a security office? Or a groundskeeper’s cottage? Someone had to be here.

I pulled my thin jacket tighter and started walking, my sneakers sinking into the mud. The path was slick stone, and the noise of the trees groaning in the wind was unnerving.

As I got closer to the light, I realized it was coming from a boathouse. The sound of voices carried over the storm.

I slowed my pace, suddenly cautious. The driver’s words echoed in my head. *Keep your head down.*

“You have five seconds to tell me who you told.”

The voice was low, calm, and utterly chilling. It cut through the wind like a shard of ice.

I ducked behind a thick, manicured hedge, my heart starting to hammer against my ribs. I peeked through a gap in the wet leaves.

Three boys stood on the dock. Two of them were holding a fourth boy, his body struggling weakly.

The one who spoke stood apart, watching. He was tall, dressed in a black jacket that seemed to repel the rain, his dark hair slicked back from his face. Even from here, he radiated a terrifying authority.

“No one,” the boy being held sputtered, coughing up lake water. “I swear to God, Nathan, no one.”

“He’s lying,” one of the boys holding him said. “Look at his eyes. They’re shifting all over the place.”

The leader, Nathan, took a slow step forward. “You hear that, Leo? Even Luca can tell you’re lying. And Luca is an idiot.”

“Hey!” the one called Luca protested, though there was no real heat in it.

“Put him under again,” Nathan ordered, his voice flat. “Let’s try for a new record.”

“No! Please!” Leo screamed, but they forced his head back under the black water without a moment’s hesitation.

I couldn’t breathe. My mind was screaming at me to run, to hide, to do anything but watch.

They held him under. Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty.

I watched, frozen in horror, as the desperate struggles weakened and then stopped. Bubbles rose to the surface, then nothing.

Just as I thought I was witnessing a murder, they hauled him up. He came up limp, his face blue. He wasn't breathing.

One of them slammed a fist into his chest, and he choked violently, spewing water and gasping for air like a landed fish.

A tiny, horrified sound escaped my throat. A gasp. It was nothing, barely a whisper against the storm.

But he heard it.

Nathan’s head snapped in my direction. His eyes, dark and depthless, locked directly onto mine through the gap in the hedge.

There was no surprise on his face. No shock. No fear of being caught.

There was nothing. Just a cold, calculating emptiness that promised violence. He saw me, and it changed nothing for him. It was the most terrifying thing I had ever seen.

My body finally obeyed my brain. I scrambled backward, my feet slipping on the wet grass. A branch snagged my jacket, ripping the fabric with a loud tear. I didn’t care. I just ran.

I ran blindly, away from the lake, away from him. I didn't look back. I didn't need to. I could feel his eyes on my back, a physical weight of promised retribution.

Branches whipped at my face, but I didn't slow down. I just pumped my arms and legs, fueled by a terror so pure it burned away every other thought.

I finally burst out of the trees and onto a manicured quad. A bronze sign gleamed in the dim lamplight. HAWTHORNE HOUSE.

My dorm. Safety.

I sprinted to the door, my hands shaking so badly I could barely get the key card out of my pocket. It took three tries before the lock beeped green. I threw myself inside, slamming the heavy oak door behind me.

The lock clicked shut. I twisted the deadbolt. Then I dragged the heavy armchair from beside the window and wedged it under the doorknob.

Only then did I let myself slide down the door to the floor, my whole body wracked with tremors I couldn’t control.

I’m safe. I’m safe. I’m safe.

The lie tasted like ash in my mouth.

I pulled out my phone, my fingers fumbling on the screen.

“Call Mom,” I whispered to myself, my voice a raw croak. “Just call her. Tell her what happened.”

The phone started to ring on the other end.

What would I even say? ‘Hi, Mom. My new school is great, but I just watched the local prince of darkness almost drown a kid and now he knows my face. Can I come home?’

I couldn’t go home. My stepfather… going home would be jumping from the frying pan into the fire. There was nowhere to run.

I stabbed the 'end call' button with my thumb before she could even answer.

I dropped the phone onto the cheap carpet.

I hugged my knees to my chest, rocking back and forth in the darkness of my new room.

He saw me.

He saw me.

I wasn't a lamb among wolves. I was a witness. And in a place like this, I knew that was so much worse.

Chapter 2

Macy.

Sleep didn’t come. How could it? Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his. Dark, empty, and promising a world of pain. I spent the night huddled in the armchair I’d wedged under the doorknob, listening to the storm rage outside and the frantic beating of my own heart inside.

Morning arrived gray and unwelcome. The rain had softened to a miserable drizzle. I looked at my reflection in the dark window. Pale face, purple shadows under my eyes, ripped jacket. I looked like a victim.

I couldn’t be one. Not again.

I forced myself to shower, the hot water doing little to wash away the chill that had settled deep in my bones. I put on the nicest clothes I owned, a simple pair of jeans and a clean sweater. Armor.

Maybe he didn’t see me clearly. It was dark. Raining. Maybe he just saw a shape, a shadow.

Maybe, if I was invisible enough, I could survive this.

My roommate’s side of the room was pristine, her bed perfectly made. A note was on the desk. ‘Welcome! Had to run to an 8 AM lab. Let’s connect tonight! - Chloe.’

It was a little piece of normal in a world that had tilted on its axis. I clung to it.

My first class was English Literature. I found a seat in the back corner, keeping my head down and my notebook open. The professor was brilliant. The other students were intimidatingly polished. Their clothes were designer, their bags were leather, and their confidence was something I’d only ever read about in books.

I managed to stay invisible. No one spoke to me. No one looked at me. It was exactly what I wanted.

By lunchtime, a sliver of hope had begun to grow. Maybe I had imagined it. The fear, the intensity in his eyes. Maybe it was just a prank. A cruel, terrifying prank that rich kids played on each other.

I met Chloe in the cafeteria. She was bubbly and bright, with a cascade of blonde hair and a smile that seemed permanently fixed to her face. She was exactly the kind of girl I’d never been friends with.

“Macy! There you are!” she chirped, waving me over to her table. “How was your first morning? Isn’t this place just a dream?”

“It’s… big,” I said, sitting down with my tray. The food was incredible. A salad bar with a dozen types of greens, a carving station, a pasta bar. It was more food than I saw in a week back home.

“I know, right?” Chloe giggled, stabbing a piece of melon with her fork. “My dad said the tuition is basically a down payment on a small country, so they have to feed us well. Have you met anyone cool yet?”

“Just you,” I said.

“Aw, well, I’m the best, so you’re starting at the top.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Okay, quick rundown. See the table over there with all the jocks? That’s the sports royalty. They’re harmless, mostly. The table by the window? That’s the future politicians and CEOs. They’re networking, even over sandwiches. Boring.”

“It’s a lot to take in,” I murmured, pushing a piece of lettuce around my plate.

“You have no idea.” Chloe’s eyes scanned the room, a tour guide in her natural habitat. “The most important thing to know is who to avoid.”

“Avoid?”

“Definitely avoid,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The Vipers.”

The name sent a jolt through me, cold and sharp.

“Who are the Vipers?” I asked, my voice sounding distant.

“They’re not a club, not really. They’re more like… the owners.”

Just then, the atmosphere in the cavernous room shifted. The loud chatter, the clatter of silverware, it all just… faded. A hush fell over the students. It was like a switch had been flipped.

“Speak of the devils,” Chloe breathed, her eyes wide. She was staring at the entrance.

I followed her gaze.

He walked in. Nathan.

He wasn’t dressed like the other students in their preppy sweaters and pressed chinos. He wore black jeans and a plain black t-shirt that stretched across his chest. He moved with a predatory grace, his two friends from the dock flanking him like loyal guards.

Students didn’t just get quiet. They moved. The packed room parted for him like the Red Sea, people literally pulling their chairs in, averting their eyes, making a wide path.

No one wanted to be in his way.

“That’s him,” Chloe whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “Nathan Cassian. His family practically invented money. And other things. Things people don’t talk about.”

I couldn’t look away. He looked even more dangerous in the light of day. His face was all sharp angles and cruel beauty, his expression bored and arrogant. He was the king of this castle, and everyone knew it.

“Don’t stare,” Chloe hissed, ducking her head down to look at her plate. “They say he can smell fear.”

It was too late. His gaze swept the room, dismissive and cold, until it landed on our table. On me.

His eyes locked with mine. There was no flicker of recognition, no change in his expression at all. But he saw me. And this time, there was no hedge to hide behind.

He started walking. Towards us.

My blood turned to ice. My fork slipped from my fingers, clattering onto the plate with a sound that seemed deafeningly loud in the silent room.

“Oh my god,” Chloe whispered. “He’s coming over here. Why is he coming over here? We didn’t do anything.”

He didn’t stop. One step after another, closing the distance. Luca, the brawny one, was smirking. The other one, a guy with sharp, intelligent eyes, looked just as impassive as Nathan.

They stopped at our table.

Nathan pulled out the chair directly across from me and sat down. He didn’t ask. He just took the space. His two friends remained standing behind him, like statues.

The entire cafeteria was holding its breath. I could feel hundreds of pairs of eyes on me.

Chloe looked like she was about to faint. “I, um. I have to go,” she squeaked, grabbing her tray. “I forgot I have a… a thing. In the library. A book thing. So sorry. Bye.”

She practically ran, leaving me alone at the table with the three most feared boys in the school.

I stared at the wood grain of the table, focusing on a small scratch near the salt shaker. I could feel his stare on me, heavy and suffocating.

He didn’t speak.

The silence stretched, thick and terrifying. What did he want? Was he going to threaten me? Accuse me? Drag me out of here and finish what he started with the other boy?

Slowly, he reached into the inside pocket of his black jacket. My heart leaped into my throat. For a wild second, I thought he was pulling out a weapon.

Instead, he produced a single black envelope. It was made of thick, expensive-looking paper. My name, Macy Palmer, was written on the front in elegant, silver calligraphy.

He placed it on the table between us.

Then, with his finger, he slid it across the polished wood. It stopped just inches from my trembling hand.

I looked up from the envelope to his face. His eyes were unreadable, his expression a mask of cold indifference. But the message was crystal clear. It screamed in the silent space between us.

I know who you are.

I know what you saw.

And now, I own you.

He stood up as abruptly as he had sat down. He gave me one last, lingering look before turning his back and walking away. His friends followed.

As he left, the sound returned to the cafeteria in a rush, a tidal wave of whispers and murmurs. The spell was broken.

But I was still frozen, my hand hovering over the black envelope. It felt heavier than a brick. It felt like a tombstone.

My hope of being invisible was gone. It had been a stupid, childish fantasy.

In the kingdom of St. Augustine’s, the king had seen me. And he had just handed me my summons.

Chapter 3

Macy.

My feet were glued to the floor. The entire cafeteria was a blur of faces, all of them turned toward me. The whispers were a rising tide, a hundred different voices murmuring the same name. Nathan Cassian.

My hand trembled as I reached for the envelope. The paper was thick and cold, like a stone. I snatched it off the table, shoved it into my backpack, and grabbed my tray.

I didn't run, but it was close. I walked, head down, through the maze of tables. I could feel his departure in the air, the way the tension in the room was slowly starting to leak away, but the eyes stayed on me. The girl who the king had singled out.

I dumped my uneaten lunch and pushed through the doors into the hallway, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps. I needed to be alone. I needed to think.

“Macy! Wait up!”

I groaned internally. Chloe was jogging to catch up, her blonde ponytail bouncing. Her face was a mixture of fear and morbid curiosity.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice a little breathless.

“I’m fine,” I said, not slowing down.

“Fine? Macy, Nathan Cassian sat at your table. He gave you something. That is not a ‘fine’ situation. That is a category five hurricane of a situation.”

I stopped and turned to her, leaning against the cold lockers. “Look, I don’t know what it was about. I’ve never spoken to him in my life.”

“Nobody has,” she said, her eyes wide. “Unless they want to end up in the infirmary. Or worse. What’s in the envelope?”

“I haven’t looked.” It wasn't a lie, but it felt like one.

“Well, are you going to?” she pressed, glancing around the hallway as if the Vipers might materialize from the shadows.

“Yes, later,” I said, trying to sound casual. “When I’m not in the middle of a crowded hall.”

“Is it a threat?”

“I don’t know, Chloe.” My voice was sharper than I intended.

She took a small step back. “Okay. Sorry. It’s just… you should be careful. My cousin was a student here a few years ago. She said the Vipers are involved in things. Real things. Not just high school pranks.”

“What kind of things?” I asked, even though I already knew. I had seen it.

“She wouldn’t say. She just told me to stay away from them. To never, ever get their attention.” Chloe looked at me with genuine pity. “Looks like it’s too late for that.”

“Thanks,” I said dryly. “I have to get to my dorm.”

“Okay. Just… be safe, Macy.”

I walked away, her worried gaze following me. The weight of the envelope in my bag seemed to grow heavier with every step. Back in my room, I locked the door and slid the deadbolt. It didn’t feel like enough. I wedged the armchair under the knob again.

My hands were shaking as I pulled the envelope out. My name was a swirl of silver ink on the black paper. It looked like an invitation to a funeral. My funeral.

I tore it open. Inside, there were two pieces of cardstock.

The first was an official-looking invitation. The paper was so thick it was almost a board. At the top, a logo was embossed in silver foil: a snake coiled around a dagger. Below it, the text was printed in the same elegant script.

‘The Vipers cordially invite you to demonstrate your potential. Trials begin tonight. Midnight. The east entrance to the catacombs.’

The catacombs? What kind of school had catacombs? It was absurd. It was terrifying.

Then I saw the second, smaller card. It was a simple, plain white note, with only three words written in sharp, angry handwriting. A man’s handwriting.

‘Join or vanish.’

I dropped the cards on my bed as if they had burned me. Vanish. The word echoed in the silent room. It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise. The same promise he had made with his eyes at the boathouse.

This wasn’t about a social club. This was about what I saw. He wasn’t inviting me to join. He was leashing me. Pulling me into the darkness with him so he could make sure I never spoke a word of what I witnessed.

My first instinct was primal. Run.

I grabbed my phone, my thumb hovering over my mom’s contact. I could call her. I could tell her I made a mistake. That this school was a nightmare. I could beg her to let me come home.

But what was home? A small, dingy apartment where the locks were never strong enough to keep my stepfather out. A place where my mom looked over her shoulder every time a car backfired. A dead end of gambling debts and broken promises.

He would find me. Stephen always found a way when he needed money. And running from St. Augustine’s meant giving up my scholarship. My one and only ticket out of that life. I would be trapped, right back where I started.

My thumb pressed the screen. The phone began to ring.

One ring. Two rings. My heart hammered against my ribs.

“Macy? Honey, is everything okay?” My mom’s voice was thin, already stretched with worry.

I opened my mouth to speak, to tell her everything, to cry and beg for an escape that didn’t exist. But the words wouldn’t come out.

“Macy, are you there?”

“Hi, Mom,” I managed to choke out. “I’m here.”

“You sound strange. What’s wrong? Is it the school? Are the other kids being mean to you?”

“No, nothing like that,” I lied, sinking onto the edge of my bed. “Everyone’s fine. The school is beautiful.”

“Oh, good,” she said, relief flooding her voice. “I was so worried. It’s a big change for you.” There was a pause. “It’s not him, is it? Stephen hasn’t tried to contact you?”

The question was a bucket of ice water. Her first fear wasn’t that I was homesick or struggling with classes. It was him. It was always him.

“No, Mom. Of course not. He doesn’t even know exactly where I am.”

“Keep it that way,” she said, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “He was here last night, Macy. Pounding on the door. Asking for money again. He knows you got that scholarship grant money.”

My blood ran cold. He knew.

“Don’t worry about me,” she said, trying to sound brave. “You just focus on your studies. This is your chance to get away from all this. You’re safe there. Don’t you ever forget that.”

Safe. The word was a joke. A cruel, bitter joke.

“I won’t,” I said, my voice hollow.

“I have to go, sweetie. My break is almost over. Call me this weekend, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

I ended the call and let the phone drop from my hand. It hit the carpet with a soft thud. My mom’s words sealed my fate. There was no going back. The fire I’d escaped was still burning, waiting for me.

Stuck. I was well and truly stuck.

In front of me was Nathan Cassian, a monster who drowned people for sport and issued ultimatums in silver ink. Behind me was my stepfather, a different kind of monster, one who would bleed me and my mother dry without a second thought.

I looked at the black invitation lying on my comforter. The snake and the dagger seemed to mock me.

‘Join or vanish.’

It wasn't a choice between good and evil. It was a choice between two different dungeons.

I picked up the card. The sharp edges dug into my palm. At least in this dungeon, I might learn how to fight back.

Midnight. The catacombs. My new life was beginning, whether I wanted it to or not.