Scandal & Scholarship

Chapter 12 (Alex's POV)

I ride through the winding highway, the towering trees on either side blurring into streaks of green as I speed past. The air is crisp, rushing past my face like a cool whisper, and for a moment, it soothes the tension knotted in my chest. The open road has always had this effect on me—a mix of calm and adrenaline that I desperately need right now. I need it to clear my head, to push away thoughts of her.

That reckless girl. Innocent-looking, sure, but she's anything but. She's too bold, too confident for her own good, speaking her mind without a second thought about the consequences. I can still feel the sting from when she kneed me in the crotch, in front of everyone, right in the hallway of the university my family owns. The nerve.

She's like wildfire—blazing, untamed, and dangerous. And, yeah, it doesn't help that she's hot. Hot enough to make you reckless just by looking at her. But there's a fine line between bravery and stupidity, and she crossed it when she laid a hand on me. That kind of defiance comes with a price.

As I approach the house, Nightshade's shared two-story hideout, I pull up and cut the engine. The rumble fades into the quiet of the evening, but inside me, a storm brews. She's going to learn a lesson tonight. I'll make sure of it.

I swing my leg off the bike, heading inside without a word. The party's already gearing up, but I ignore the noise as I head straight for my room. A quick shower, a change of clothes, and I'll be ready. Ready to show that girl exactly what happens when you challenge someone like me. She thinks she's fire? I'll show her what it feels like to burn.

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By the time I make my way back downstairs, the party is in full swing, the noise vibrating through the walls. Music blares, conversations blur together, and laughter cuts through the air like a sharp note. I weave through the crowd until I find my friends, exchanging a nod with Ethan and Marcus. My eyes scan the corners of the party room, looking for one particular person—those fire-filled eyes that have been haunting me all night. Blaze.

Suddenly, my gaze locks onto a figure swaying in the center of the room, moving to the rhythm like no one's watching. She's lost in the music, her body fluid, every movement sensual and unguarded. The dark blue dress clings to her curves, and for a moment, I can't believe what I'm seeing. Her. Blaze.

I blink and look again, almost needing confirmation that the same girl who kneed me in front of everyone could look like this. The once prim, goody two-shoes now radiates something different—something dangerous and undeniably alluring. A smirk tugs at my lips as I watch her, sipping my whiskey slowly, savoring the moment. She's definitely drunk, swaying like she owns the room.

Then, as if sensing my eyes on her, she turns. Our gazes lock. For a heartbeat, everything around us fades—the music, the people, the noise. It's just her and me. The fire in her eyes meets the ice in mine, and I know she feels it too. But I play it cool, breaking the stare and turning back to my friends.

Moments later, a commotion erupts from where she was dancing. Heads turn, and I see her in the middle of it all. A drunk bastard has his filthy hands on her, his grip too tight, too close. Anger flares inside me, quick and sharp. Ethan moves first, stepping forward to pull the guy off her, but the drunk swings and lands a punch on him. That's when something inside me snaps.

I see red.

Without thinking, I charge at the guy and start swinging, my fists connecting with his face over and over. He's on the ground in seconds, but I don't stop. Rage fuels me, every punch harder than the last. Around me, I can hear people yelling, trying to pull me off, but I don't care. I just keep hitting him.

"Stop!" A voice slices through the chaos, sharp and commanding. It's her—Blaze.

Her voice jolts me out of my haze, and I let go of the guy, standing over him as my breathing slows. I glance up, but she's already walking away, disappearing through the crowd and out of the party hall.

I push past everyone, making my way back to my room. My knuckles throb, blood—some mine, some his—smeared across them. I head straight to the bathroom, wanting to wash away the evidence, but my head's still spinning, my body buzzing with adrenaline.

Then, I hear it—movement from inside my washroom. I pause, narrowing my eyes, and knock on the door. No answer. I sigh, sitting on the edge of my bed, trying to gather myself. Moments later, the door opens.

There she is. Blaze.