A QUEEN AND A WOLF

“...Move.”

Amara’s voice sliced through the air, low yet sharp, like a shard of glass. Her eyes narrowed, watching intently for any sign of weakness from Liliana.

But Liliana stood her ground, not flinching even a little.

With a relaxed posture, she created an invisible barrier between Amara and Clara. The sunlight danced in her hair as she slightly tilted her chin—silent and resolute.

Amara’s smirk wavered. “Didn’t you hear me? I said move.”

Still, Liliana remained unmoved.

Instead, she parted her lips, her voice steady and strong, resonating throughout the classroom.

“Picking on the weak isn’t real strength. If you want to prove yourself… try picking on someone your own size.”

A wave of shock rippled through the room. Students gasped, their eyes wide, taken aback by her boldness.

For a brief moment, even Amara seemed taken aback, as if Liliana’s words had slapped her across the face.

Then, scraping her chair back, Zane Crowe, the class president, stood up from her seat at the front. She cleared her throat, adjusting her glasses, attempting to assert some authority.

“That’s enough,” she started, her voice steady but lacking confidence. “Let’s… calm this down before it escalates.”

All eyes turned to her, curious to see if she would actually step in.

But Zane’s gaze lingered on Liliana, who stood calmly against Amara’s simmering fury. She hesitated—then slowly sank back into her chair.

“…Forget it,” she muttered quietly, almost to herself. “I’ll just watch how this unfolds.”

And just like that, the classroom fell into a heavy silence.

The tension hung thick in the air, every student holding their breath as Liliana and Amara locked eyes, each refusing to back down.

Amara’s jaw tightened, her nails digging into her palm as her voice rose, each word laced with venom.

“…Go ahead, say that again. I dare you, bitch.”

A ripple of murmurs spread through the room at the insult, but Liliana stood her ground. She took a steadying breath, lifted her chin, and spoke with the same calm confidence as before.

“Targeting the weak isn’t a show of strength. If you really want to prove yourself, try picking on someone your own size.”

Her gaze flicked to Clara—still shaking in her seat—before returning to Amara.

“And you owe her an apology.”

Gasps filled the room. A few students covered their mouths, as if Liliana had just crossed an unthinkable line.

Amara’s lips twisted into a snarl. “…What did you just—”

Liliana didn’t waver. Her voice was sharper, more resolute this time.

“Apologize. To her.”

The word hung in the air like a knife, cutting through the tension.

Amara’s face turned a fiery red, her eyes sparking with anger. Sophie and Riley quickly moved in, surrounding Liliana like vultures poised to pounce on their prey.

Their body language screamed loyalty, but there was a hint of uncertainty they had never witnessed anyone challenge Amara like this before.

Amara’s smirk returned, sharp and menacing. She crossed her arms and tilted her head, like a queen surveying her kingdom.

“You’ve got some serious guts,” she spat. “Do you even know who you’re dealing with? I run this place. I’m the queen of Class 10-E. Everyone knows it. Everyone respects it.”

Her gaze narrowed, locking onto Liliana’s calm and steady eyes.

“So here’s the deal, transfer. You either play by my rules, or you’re out. No middle ground.”

The silence in the classroom thickened, students leaning in, breathless with anticipation.

Amara’s smirk widened as she stepped closer, invading Liliana’s personal space.

“Or…” She let the word linger, dripping with menace. “…maybe you’re up for a fight.”

The room fell into a heavy silence.

Even Liliana’s composure faltered for a moment, her eyes widening slightly, taken aback by the boldness of the challenge.

But she straightened her back, her voice steady even though the tension in the room felt thick enough to cut through.

“If you keep up with your nonsense…” she said firmly, locking her gaze on Amara, “…then I’ll have no choice but to call the teacher.”

The class went still. A collective gasp filled the air, followed by a silence so intense it seemed to echo in their ears.

And then, out of nowhere, Amara burst into laughter.

“Wait—hold on a second—” she wheezed between fits of giggles, clutching her stomach as if Liliana had just told the funniest joke ever. “Did you really just say teacher?”

Her laughter only grew louder, more mocking, sweeping through the classroom like a wave of derision. Sophie and Riley chimed in, smirking and nodding along with their queen’s taunts.

“Oh my God,” Amara snorted, pretending to wipe away a tear from her eye. “That’s hilarious. Just hilarious.”

She leaned in closer, her breath laced with malice.

“What is this, Australia? Where running to the teacher solves everything? Where little snitches get a gold star?” Her voice turned sharp, dripping with disdain. “This is England. The UK. Over here, that pathetic stuff doesn’t fly.”

The laughter faded into a chilling silence. Amara’s smirk twisted into something more sinister.

“And you know what happens to pathetic girls who don’t get it?”

Before Liliana could respond, Amara’s knee shot up, slamming into her stomach with brutal force.

A sharp thud echoed through the room.

Liliana staggered back, the air knocked out of her lungs. The onlooking students gasped—some flinching, others frozen, unsure if they had just witnessed the beginning of something much worse.

Clara whimpered in the corner, watching the chaos unfold.

Amara stood confidently, her height giving her an imposing presence over Liliana, a triumphant grin plastered on her face.

“Welcome to the UK, transfer,” she taunted. “You’d better learn the rules.”

Liliana’s body jolted forward from the impact, her hands gripping the edge of the desk to keep herself steady.

It felt like all the air had been knocked out of her lungs, but her gaze remained unwavering.

And in that brief moment of silence, she heard it.

Rohan’s voice. Cold. Steady. Crystal clear in her mind.

“Take one hit. Just one. After that… do whatever you want.”

A slow smile crept onto her lips, the ache in her stomach morphing into something much darker.

Liliana straightened up, brushing a stray strand of her dark blue hair away from her face.

The whole class was watching, anticipating her to break down, to shrink back, to plead for mercy.

But instead, she tilted her head slightly, her voice calm, almost soothing.

“You hit me.”

Amara blinked, momentarily thrown off balance. “…What?”

Liliana repeated herself, louder this time, her tone sharp enough to cut through the thick tension in the room.

“You. Hit. Me.”

She raised a finger, pointing directly to the spot on her stomach where Amara’s knee had struck.

"Right here."

And then she smiled.

Not a sweet smile. Not a polite one.

A devilish grin. One that sent chills racing down the spines of everyone watching.

Amara’s smirk faltered for just a heartbeat, her confidence wavering.