The black camellia on her windowsill withered overnight, leaving only a trace of shadow curling across her desk. Jasmine felt it stir in her chest—a pull, a whisper, a power that was hers and not hers at the same time.
She didn’t want it. And yet, when she reached out, the shadows obeyed.
That day, the school felt… different. Walls seemed to breathe. Hallways twisted. Students who dared approach her froze, their movements caught in invisible strings. And there, in the distance, Delijah watched her—his eyes wide, a mix of awe and fear.
“Jasmine…” he breathed, “what… what are you becoming?”
She didn’t answer. The power hummed beneath her skin. It was intoxicating, and for the first time, she felt truly alive. She wasn’t a shadow of the girl who died—she was something new, something more.
The mysterious force that had created her sent whispers, promising her freedom, offering her the ability to reshape everything.
And she realized… she could.
A teacher tried to stop her from entering the old wing of the school—a forbidden place tied to the origin of her existence. Jasmine stepped forward. Shadows spilled from her feet, curling around him like chains. His voice froze, words caught in fear.
Delijah rushed forward, trying to intervene. “Stop!” he shouted. “Jasmine, don’t—”
But it was too late. Jasmine’s eyes glowed black as camellia petals spiraled around her. She felt nothing but clarity: this was power, and it was hers to command.
“Delijah,” she said, voice calm but deadly, “I don’t need saving. I never did.”
His heart twisted. He loved her—but she was no longer the girl who once needed him. She was dangerous, untethered, and unpredictable. And the line between love and fear blurred.
That night, the black camellia bloomed in the darkness of her room. Jasmine smiled. It wasn’t a warning anymore. It was a promise.
“I’m not yours to protect… Delijah. I’m mine.”
And in that moment, the academy itself seemed to shiver. Shadows stretched along the walls, responding to her will. Whatever force had created her had awakened something unstoppable—and now, Jasmine would decide who survived… and who did not.
Delijah stood at the window, watching her. Torn between desire and terror, he whispered, “Jasmine… what have you become?”
She didn’t answer. The darkness was her answer.
