Chapter 28 – The Game Continues: Sarah Luna
Days passed. The assaulted girl did not show up to class for an entire week—long enough for the school to boil with scandal and for the protagonists to feel the full weight of their confrontation.
On the first day of the new week, the four were already sitting in their classroom, waiting for Professor Diana Aching.
Suddenly, the door opened, and the girl stepped inside.
She looked around timidly, her eyes fixed on the floor, wearing the expression of someone who feared being attacked again at any moment.
Titus immediately stood up, gesturing for her to come over and sit with them.
She gave him a shy smile and then lowered her gaze. In that brief instant when her face dipped out of sight, her expression twisted. Her eyes flashed with a cold, devilish gleam, and her lips curled into a malicious smile.
The voice inside her returned, clearer than before: "That's it. Keep following the plan."
She lifted her head again, her frightened expression perfectly restored.
The four greeted her warmly.
"Really, I can't thank you enough for what you did for me," she said, her voice still fragile. "My name is Sarah Luna."
As she spoke, the boys examined her. She was undeniably beautiful—on par with Cristal—though her face carried a more innocent softness. Her body, however, was strikingly well‑developed for her age. Piercing blue eyes and long chestnut hair completed her appearance.
"We'd like to invite you to join our group," Cristal said, genuinely kind.
"We call ourselves The Unwanted," Walter added proudly, making Bruno and Titus glance at each other and laugh at the name.
"Yeah, that's what we call ourselves," Bruno confirmed, giving Walter a friendly pat on the back. "Welcome."
Sarah Luna looked at all of them and smiled. "It's a pleasure to meet you, The Unwanted."
The four exchanged looks at how solemnly she had said it—and then suddenly burst into laughter, unable to hold it back, amused by their own awkward label.
Sarah Luna, with her angelic smile, joined in the laughter, sealing her entry into the group.
The Artificial Calm of Clear Creek
Clear Creek Private College had reinstated its iron ritual. The gothic stone walls that once witnessed a massacre now looked immaculate; the shattered windows had been replaced, and the ivy clinging to the façade seemed to silently drink in the memory of spilled blood.
The school authorities—under relentless pressure from powerful families (including Walter's)—had strictly banned the presence of bodyguards inside the campus, forcing security teams to wait outside the perimeter like chained dogs.
This peace, however, was purely artificial; a tight sheet stretched over a horror still warm.
Titus—now confident in himself and in his latent strength—and his friends—Bruno, Cristal, Walter, and the newly incorporated Sarah Luna—moved through the halls as a single unit, the "Unwanted" who had suddenly rewritten the social hierarchy's rulebook.
The tranquility was a mockery. Every pair of eyes, from the envious to the terrified, was fixed on them.
The Predators in Waiting
On the fringes of Clear Creek's artificial calm, the old predators watched.
Ken Cambiazo, the self‑appointed king of the bullies, simmered with a primitive, caveman fury. Public humiliation—Bruno's flawless Uchi Mata, Cristal's scorn—had not healed. Ken was no strategist; his mind operated on instinct alone. He saw Titus with his new physique, without glasses, confident beside Cristal, and something inside him burned.
For Ken, revenge wasn't a plan—it was a physical need, a violent discharge that had to happen soon or it would consume him. He stalked the hallways like a dormant volcano, muscles tense beneath his clothes, waiting only for the school's rules to loosen enough for him to strike with his usual, simple brutality.
Melanie, however, was the opposite.
With her family's power behind her, every piece of evidence from the bathroom assault had been erased with surgical efficiency. She hadn't denied anything—she had simply rearranged the narrative. When she returned to campus, she did so with the poise of a Black Widow: elegance wrapped in danger, dressed in that effortless luxury only extreme wealth could buy.
She no longer screamed or attacked impulsively. Now, she studied. From the cafeteria's far corner or the upper hallway, Melanie observed her prey. Her gaze never lingered on Titus; instead, she analyzed the group's dynamic, the way they walked together, the cohesion they showed.
And above all, she watched Sarah Luna—the supposed victim—with icy skepticism.
The smile Melanie offered Ken was a promise, not comfort: "We wait. We let the hunter believe he has won. Then we tighten the net."
For Ken, revenge was sweat, fists, and blood. For Melanie, revenge was a long‑term equation, an operation executed with precision—not rage.
Their hatred remained silent, simmering beneath the calm halls of Clear Creek… but both of them were waiting for the exact same thing: the moment the Unwanted slipped. Even once.
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Hook: But something in the darkness was already moving, ready to change everything…
Chapter 29 – Sarah Luna: The Mask of Gratitude
Within the bubble of the protagonists, the life of The Unwanted was flourishing. Video calls and chats were constant. Bruno, towering even through a screen, insisted to Titus:
"There's much to learn, my lord. Don't get comfortable with this calm. There is far more than that blue strike."
Cristal, with a gentleness that Titus found intoxicating, offered the invitation Sarah had been waiting for.
"Sarah, you should also learn to defend yourself. You can't let anyone touch you again."
Sarah answered immediately, her smile enthusiastic yet fragile. "Yes, please! I would love that. And I can spend more time with all of you… my protectors."
But the moment the call ended, her smile vanished—replaced by a twisted expression of sordid anticipation.
The voice inside her mind, the one no one else could hear, echoed with triumphant satisfaction: "You've earned their trust. The plan is working."
Her presence within the group was a masterpiece of manipulation. Sarah had not pressed charges against Melanie because the incident, to her, had been a necessary and calculated sacrifice. The humiliation served a dual purpose:
1. To validate her mask of victimhood before the campus and the police.
2. To guarantee her access to the inner circle of Titus.
The cold, demonic glint in her eyes—visible only when no one was watching—was the signature of her true master. The girl who had never feared bullies now embraced friendship with a venomous loyalty, her smile angelic… and her intentions anything but.
The Forging of Gods
Months passed in an unrelenting cycle of study and discipline. Training had become the only tangible reality for Titus and Sarah—demanding, consuming, almost monastic in its intensity.
Titus's body, fueled by the golden blood and shaped by Sambo, Blue Energy, and the weight of his destiny, had shed every trace of fragility. The once‑thin torso was now a carved block of living muscle: a young god hammered into existence on the brutal forge of survival.
Sarah, under Cristal's constant guidance, had blossomed into something far more dangerous than an ordinary student. Her body, toned and athletic, accentuated the curves that were already naturally generous. And her face—seemingly innocent, almost angelic—hid the promise of a seductive vice.
That duality was her most powerful weapon: a flawless purity on the outside, a calculated darkness beneath. Every look she gave was a velvet‑wrapped blade.
The most delicious sin… and the most lethal one.
Act of Possession
That afternoon, sunlight filtered through the trees in the clearing, washing everything in a melancholic orange that promised nothing good. The air was thick with the smell of damp earth and the clean, salty sweat of physical effort.
Titus had just finished an exhausting energy‑channeling session with Cristal. His bare torso glistened with sweat, every carved six‑pack a testament to his violent metamorphosis.
Cristal, moving with the precision of a ritual, walked toward the gym bag to grab a towel—a gesture that had become her quiet, unspoken privilege. It was an act of care, the only tangible way she could touch "her lord" without cracking her facade of authority.
But Sarah was faster.
Like a calculated shadow, she rushed ahead with a speed that didn't belong to her angelic face. She darted forward and snatched the towel before Cristal could reach it.
She approached Titus with exaggerated sweetness, her movements slow, almost hypnotic. Instead of simply handing him the towel, Sarah unfolded it and—without asking permission—began wiping the sweat from his skin.
It wasn't functional drying. It was an extended caress. Her fingers lingered on his warm skin, tracing the outline of his abs, sliding the fabric down the channel of his spine.
Sarah's blue eyes never left Titus's chiseled body, studying every line of muscle like a forbidden map she intended to memorize inch by inch.
Titus, oblivious to the psychological violence unfolding, felt only an awkward heat rising in his cheeks—the guilty pleasure of the towel, something his new confidence allowed him to accept.
Hook: What came next would be impossible to stop…
Chapter 30 – Golden Fury and Burning Eyes
Cristal stopped dead in her tracks. Barely two meters away, she became a statue of frozen panic. She saw Sarah's hand caressing Titus's hip, and the vision was for her as if someone had injected boiling venom directly into her veins.
The feeling that flooded her wasn't the quiet aversion of a guardian; it was pure, raw hatred, an animalistic possessiveness that left her breathless. Her golden blood, the source of her calm and power, boiled in her arteries.
What is this? What is this… trash making me feel? she asked herself, feeling the sting of an unknown and fearsome emotion. It was the fear of losing what, without knowing it, she had claimed as her own.
Cristal's gaze turned so cold it could freeze the air, fixed on Sarah's back, wishing to reduce her to ashes.
At the same time, a third pair of eyes watched the scene from the shadow of a large oak tree, about ten meters away. It was neither a bully nor a spy of the Lord, but the constant presence of Bruno.
The blond giant, immutable in his bearing, felt his twin's conflict through their ancestral bond. He saw the undisguised fury in Cristal's golden eyes, the almost imperceptible tremor in the line of her jaw.
And his own fury, slow and deep, began to grow in his heart. Not from romantic jealousy, but from brutal loyalty: Sarah was attacking his sister.
Bruno's golden eyes did not settle on Titus, nor on Sarah's artificial beauty. They fixed on the feigned innocence of her face. He saw the towel gesture not as help, but as a declaration of war, an act of ownership over the Link that belonged to them.
Bruno's anger did not shout; it pulsed, like a dull drum in the darkness, promising that the punishment for this insolence, and for the pain inflicted on his sister, would be methodical and definitive.
The calm of the training had broken.
The internal war for Titus had begun, and Sarah Luna, the innocent, had fired the first and darkest shot.
Hook: And that silence hid a danger that would soon come to light…