Flashback, earlier before Mel told his story:

Anita leaped down from the trees, her footsteps light as she landed with a quiet thud. "Now that the Blades and Blunts are here, Mel's got nothing to worry about," she muttered to herself, adjusting her bag over her shoulder. Her thoughts flickered briefly to Logan. I hope that idiot doesn’t do anything to blow my cover, she thought, her brow furrowing before she shook it off and headed toward school.

Meanwhile, in the senior section of the school, Henry lounged casually with a few friends. "Hey," he said, grinning mischievously, "I bet I can get with that one," he said, casually pointing to Anita as she walked past. The others smirked, clearly entertained by his challenge.

Henry walked up to Anita, blocking her path and leaning in with an arrogant smirk. "Hey," he said, sticking his tongue out playfully.

Anita’s eyes widened in alarm. "M-Move! I need to get to class!" she protested, attempting to sidestep him.

But Henry didn’t budge. His expression darkened, a look of disgust crossing his face. "You think you're better than me, huh?" he sneered. "I know your secret, Anita Peak." He leaned in closer, his voice lowering ominously. "Or should I say... Anita Liu?"

Anita froze, her heart pounding in her chest. He knows? He knows me? The realization hit her like a wave of ice-cold water. Desperation surged within her. She placed a trembling hand on his chest, her voice frantic. "Please... I'll do anything... just don’t tell anyone!"

Henry's smirk widened as he leaned even closer, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that made her stomach churn with discomfort. She tried to pull back, but his grip on her only tightened. The kiss lingered, but Anita felt nothing but dread.

Present

Anita’s confidence crumbled, her gaze dropping to the ground as her voice quivered. “You don’t understand… You have no idea what you’re talking about!”

Rue furrowed her brows, the frustration in her chest briefly giving way to confusion. Whatever Anita was hiding, she hadn’t shared it, and Rue couldn’t piece it together. She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “Fine. Do whatever you want.”

Her tone was cold, but her words carried a hint of resignation as she turned away, leaving Anita standing alone with her head hung low.

The following day at school, Mel’s absence didn’t go unnoticed—it was rare, almost unheard of, for him to skip. Lance scanned the bustling hallways, frowning as he leaned against a locker. “Nope, haven’t seen him, and he didn’t say anything to us about not coming,” he muttered, clearly perplexed.

Rue tapped her black card, pulling up Mel’s location with a quick swipe. “He’s still in his dorm,” she said, her tone more relieved than worried. “At least he’s not out doing something reckless. Truancy will probably drag him out by lunch.” She tucked the card away with a shrug, as if trying to downplay her concern.

Elowen’s gaze drifted toward Anita, who sat comfortably on Henry’s lap, laughing at some joke he whispered. Her brow furrowed as she turned back to the group. “I don’t get why Mel’s so upset about them. Sure, it’s weird for a senior to date a freshman, but it’s not really his business.”

Renita shook her head, her voice edged with frustration. “He’s not just upset about that. They’re supposed to be ‘best friends,’ right? She’s dating some jerk, ignoring him, and didn’t even bother to tell him. Obviously, it’s going to hit a nerve.”

The group fell silent, the air between them thick with tension and unanswered questions as they tried to piece together Mel’s sudden absence.

Meanwhile, Cassius and Amara strolled toward the kitchen, plates balanced in their hands, when they noticed Henry heading the same way to grab more food.

“Akoni still hasn’t shown up. Do you think something’s wrong?” Amara asked, her tone laced with worry. “Maybe he joined Bloodthorn?”

Cassius’s shoulders slumped, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I don’t know… he won’t even answer my calls. I’m scared—”

Before he could finish, his plate accidentally collided with Henry, spilling food all over the senior’s shirt. The air grew tense.

“Uh oh!” Cassius gasped, quickly bowing in apology. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there.”

Henry’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he watched the pair hurriedly walk past him, clearly hoping to avoid further conflict.

But Henry wasn’t one to let things slide. With a smirk, he stepped forward and smeared a handful of tomato sauce across Amara’s chest. “Oops,” he said mockingly, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Didn’t see you dare.”

Amara froze in shock, her face burning with humiliation, while Cassius turned to face Henry, his jaw tight and his eyes blazing with fury. The tension in the room was palpable, a storm waiting to erupt.

Cassius immediately turned to Amara, his hands moving instinctively to wipe the tomato sauce from her chest. “Shit, I made it worse!” he stammered, panic evident in his voice.

Amara’s face flushed crimson as she squirmed under his touch. “Cassius, can you not touch my chest, please?” she asked, her voice strained with embarrassment.

Cassius froze, his eyes widening as the realization hit him. “WAIT! IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!” he blurted, his face turning as red as the sauce. In his haste to fix the situation, he shrugged off his sweater, revealing his lean, chiseled physique. He quickly draped it over Amara. “There! Problem solved!”

The room was filled with a tense silence until Henry’s mocking voice cut through the air. “Hey, isn’t this the guy from last year? One of the black cards who got his ass handed to him by that loser Melanthius?” he sneered.

The seniors—except for Laurel, Kali, and Emrys—erupted into laughter, their jeers echoing off the walls.

Cassius’s jaw tightened, and his eye twitched with restrained anger. “It’s true,” he admitted, his voice steady but sharp. “I lost to Melanthius. After that, I trained like a madman. I barely even ate, I barely even slept.”

“Wait, don’t fight!” Amara called out, her voice rising with urgency.

Cassius’s lips curled into a smirk. “Fight? Oh, I don’t fight,” he said, his tone deceptively calm as he cracked his knuckles.

Amara’s face lit up with relief. “Good! You promised to focus on your studies—”

Cassius cut her off, his smirk widening into a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t fight,” he repeated, his voice low and menacing, “because when I throw a punch, my opponent doesn’t get back up.”

Henry sneered, his confidence barely masking his growing frustration. “You think you can take me down just because I’m a red card and you’re a black card? I’m still a senior, and you’re just a junior!”

With a burst of aggression, Henry lunged forward, attempting a double-legged tackle. Cassius, unfazed, calmly extended his arm and placed a firm hand on Henry’s forehead, halting him mid-charge. It was almost comical—like stopping an overzealous child in their tracks. Henry flailed uselessly, his feet scraping against the ground as he tried to push forward.

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His eyes widened in disbelief. “W-what the hell?! There’s no magic here!” he stammered, panic creeping into his voice. “You’re Cassius Taurus—the prince of the Minotaur Kingdom! Your strength comes from your magic and your connection to the earth!”

Henry’s voice cracked as he struggled against Cassius’s effortless hold. “There’s a magical barrier in the cafeteria! It suppresses all abilities! How are you so strong without your magic?!”

Cassius tilted his head slightly, his calm gaze boring into Henry. “Who said my strength only comes from magic?” he replied, his voice low and steady. "Maybe I’ve been working harder than you’ll ever understand.”

He then moved out the way, making Henry fall. “Nevermind, I don’t want to fight.” Cassius said and walked the other way with Amara.

Moments later, Henry sat fuming, Anita perched nervously on his lap. She glanced down, her voice hesitant. “Y-you don’t want to kiss anymore?” she murmured softly, as if trying to soothe his foul mood.

Henry turned his gaze toward her, his eyes narrowing when they landed on the delicate spiderweb flower tucked in her hair. “Didn’t you say Melanthius gave that to you?” he asked, his tone laced with disdain.

Anita nodded, her voice trembling. “Yes, but... please, leave him alone. Please,” she begged, clutching her hands tightly together.

Henry smirked cruelly before reaching up and ripping the fragile flower from her hair. She winced, her eyes brimming with tears. “Please! Don’t!” she pleaded. That flower was more than just a trinket—it was a cherished symbol of her and Mel’s deep, unshakable bond as best friends.

Before Henry could gloat further, a shadow loomed over them. Mel appeared out of nowhere, his hand shooting out to grab Henry’s wrist mid-motion. His grip was firm, unyielding. “Didn’t she say stop?” Mel’s voice was low, dangerously calm, his purple eyes blazing with barely contained fury.

Henry yanked his arm free and sneered, attempting to hide his momentary shock. His friend leaned closer, a mocking smile curling his lips. “Oh, look who’s back. After losing that punching competition? That’s rich.” He chuckled darkly, lowering his voice so only Mel could hear. “You know what Anita and I did to celebrate my win? We made out all night... and then we did it while cussing out Merlin.”

The words barely left Henry’s mouth before Mel’s fist flew. A sharp, backhanded punch landed square on Henry’s face, sending him careening into the wall. Blood streaked down Henry’s face in a crimson arc, his nose gushing from the impact. Gasps echoed throughout the room as the force of the blow left him crumpled against the wall, stunned into silence.

“Hey!” one of Henry’s friends shouted, rushing toward Mel in a fury.

Before the boy could get close, Mel delivered a precise, concealed cloud kick to his chin, sending him airborne in a swift, almost effortless motion. Gasps rippled through the cafeteria as the boy landed with a heavy thud, groaning in pain.

Suddenly, three wardens stormed in, their heavy boots thudding against the tiled floor as they descended on Mel. Without resistance, he let them restrain him, his expression unreadable. One of the wardens knelt by Henry’s unconscious body, checking his pulse and vitals.

Anita’s wide, tear-filled eyes darted between Mel and Henry. Her heart pounded in her chest as she wrestled with her emotions. And then, with trembling hands, she made her decision—one she already knew she would regret for the rest of her life.

She ran to Henry’s limp body, pulling out a napkin to gently wipe the blood from his nose. Her voice cracked as she screamed, “You damn villainous bastard! You hit Henry when he did nothing wrong! Are you jealous or something?!”

Her words cut through the air like a knife, her accusation sharp and unrelenting. Mel stood silent, his gaze dropping to the ground as the wardens escorted him out of the cafeteria. He didn’t say a word, didn’t look back.

Anita bit her lip, her tears streaming freely now. Most people watching assumed her grief was for Henry—crying over the boy who had just been brutally struck. But deep down, Anita’s tears weren’t for Henry. They were for Mel, her best friend, the boy she had just betrayed with her words.

“Whoa, did you see that kick? Mel’s not messing around!”

“Man, Henry deserved it. He’s been acting like a total jerk lately.”

“Wait, is Mel seriously getting arrested for this? That’s so unfair!”

“Anita’s really crying over Henry? Ugh, I thought she was better than that.”

“Mel’s so quiet. It’s kind of scary how calm he looked while taking those wardens on.”

“Do you think this is going to blow up? Like, Mel’s already infamous around here...”

“Why does Henry always push people too far? He just met his match, that’s all.”

“Did Anita really just call Mel a villain? After everything he’s done for her?”

“This cafeteria drama’s going to be all anyone talks about for weeks.”

“Forget the fight—did you see Mel’s technique? That was insane!”

As the whispers and judgmental stares reached Anita’s ears, her composure shattered. Tears streamed down her face as she buried her head in Henry’s lap, her sobs muffled but audible. No one stood up for her; no one defended her. The weight of isolation pressed down on her chest like a vice. She couldn’t tell anyone the truth—not without risking everything. Henry held her darkest secret in his hands, and she was trapped, bound to him against her will.

In the headmaster’s office, Draven, Kai and Jasper sat across from Mel who sat with his head down. “Melanthius, after what you’ve told me, it seems like you’re just jealous-” Draven began and Mel glared at him. “I’m not jealous, I would’ve done the same if it was Rue, Elowen, Renita, etcetera.” He explained and Kai sighed and gave him a piece of paper. “You’re suspended for a week. Is that understood?” He asked and Mel nodded. “I understand.” He took the paper and stood up, walking out of the room.

Mel trudged through the halls, his head hanging low as the murmur of voices surrounded him like a suffocating fog. Words like "jealous" and "psychopath" followed him, cutting deeper than he let on. Avoiding the judgmental gazes, he quickened his pace until he stepped outside. The crisp air greeted him, and he tilted his head upward, his eyes meeting the warm glow of the sun.

A faint, bitter smile tugged at his lips as he whispered, “Are you lonely too, Mr. Sun?”

A few days later, Anita wandered the hallway, her steps hesitant. Spotting Rue and Elowen by their lockers, she mustered the courage to approach them. But as soon as they noticed her, they snapped their lockers shut and walked away without a word.

Her lip trembled, and her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. She clenched her fists, willing herself to stay composed. “Mel’s gone… he ran away,” she thought, the weight of her isolation pressing down on her. “Nobody knows where he is, and he didn’t leave a note. Nobody’s talking to me. Everyone whispers behind my back. I wish I could just tell them the truth…”

Overwhelmed, she covered her face with her hands, her breath hitching. That’s when she felt a firm grasp around her waist, and her heart sank. Henry’s lips grazed her neck in a possessive kiss.

“If I find out you’re crying for him,” his voice was low, threatening, “I’ll tell everyone your little secret.”

Anita swallowed hard, her voice barely audible as she nodded. “I—I won’t.”

Henry adjusted the bandage on his nose with a smirk, the memory of his confrontation with Mel still fresh. “I sent Melanthius to my kingdom,” he said, his tone dripping with malice. “Told him they’d have the answers he’s so desperately looking for about his father.”

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against Anita’s ear, sending a shiver down her spine. With deliberate cruelty, he licked the edge of her ear and whispered, “What I didn’t tell him is that Merlin destroyed half the kingdom in the past. Anything even remotely connected to Shadowbane gets hunted down and killed on sight.”

Anita’s blood ran cold, her breath hitching as the weight of his words settled in.

Moments later, Anita lay curled up in her room, her sobs echoing softly against the walls. She hugged her knees tightly to her chest, trembling with despair. “Mel told me once... he understands what it feels like to be lonely,” she whispered between broken breaths. “Now we both are.”

Tears streamed down her face as she buried her head into her arms. “He’s in a kingdom that wants to kill him, and I’m stuck here... covering for a disgusting excuse for a human being.” Her voice cracked with frustration. “I can’t even tell the Steel Pact—they’re still exploring the kingdom. Lance and Clyde won’t talk to me, the girls won’t talk to me.”

She sat up suddenly, her breath hitching as fresh tears welled in her eyes. “I have no one,” she muttered bitterly, wiping her nose with her sleeve. “And that creep keeps spreading rumors about us.” A sob broke free as she clutched her chest, the weight of her isolation suffocating.

In the Punarean Kingdom—a nation still bearing scars from Merlin’s conquest—Melanthius sat quietly in the modest bedroom of a small bar. The room smelled faintly of old wood and herbal tea. He cradled a steaming cup in his hands, sipping slowly, while the curious eyes of a family of five remained fixed on him, their awe palpable.

He set the cup down gently and offered a polite smile. “May I have more tea?” he asked, his tone calm but distant.

As the youngest child eagerly rushed to refill his cup, Mel’s gaze drifted to the window, the weight of his surroundings pressing in. “What have I gotten myself into?” he wondered, his thoughts a storm of unease and uncertainty.