Academy's Pervert in the D Class-Chapter 90: Blackmail?

The color in her face didn’t change, her expression frozen like ice.

Kiara didn’t even blink.

But she was still.

Too still.

Her gaze studied his face, searching for a bluff, a crack, anything.

But Lor didn’t break, his hazel eyes steady, unyielding.

Then slowly, calmly, he reached into his pocket.

Pulled something out.

And placed it on the table between them.

A small, gleaming crystal—black as night, with fine violet veins running through it.

It pulsed faintly, like a dying heartbeat.

The kind of artifact that should’ve never existed within Academy walls, its dark energy humming subtly, sending a chill up Kiara’s spine.

Kiara’s eyes widened before she could stop herself, her breath catching, her thighs tensing under the table as a flush of panic mixed with the heat still lingering from their earlier tension.

Her hand twitched.

Reflex, reaching for it instinctively.

But Lor already leaned forward, fingers curled protectively around the crystal before she could snatch it, his touch possessive, controlling.

"When did you take that?" she asked, voice low, a whisper laced with danger, her full breasts rising with a quickened breath.

"You left your bag open when you went to the washroom. I was curious," Lor said, almost casual, his tone belying the sharpness in his eyes. "Didn’t expect this."

He tilted his head, watching her closely, noting the way her skirt shifted as she crossed her legs tighter, her body betraying the storm inside. "You really shouldn’t carry taboo artifacts in a classroom, Kiara."

Her jaw clenched, nails digging into her palms. "That’s not mine."

Lor grinned, brief and cutting. "Now that’s cute."

The grin faded as quickly as it came, his expression turning serious, cold.

"You’re a witch," he said flatly. "Or something close enough. Doesn’t matter. You know what they’ll call it. What they’ll do."

Kiara looked around the cafeteria—just briefly—but long enough, her icy blue eyes scanning for eavesdroppers, her posture rigid, thighs pressing together as if to contain the rising heat of fear and fury.

No one had heard.

No one was watching.

"Put that away," she hissed, her voice a low growl, her curves tensing under her uniform.

Lor raised a brow, unmoved. "Oh, now you’re worried?"

"I’m warning you."

He leaned in, whispering now, his breath soft like poison against her ear, close enough that she could feel the warmth of him, stirring that unwanted pull in her core.

"You’re from a royal-blood family, aren’t you? The Silverward crest on your robe trim."

Her eyes narrowed, a flush creeping up her neck. "Careful."

"No, you be careful," Lor said, calm but sharp, his voice a blade pressing against her skin.

"Because if this gets out? You’re not just expelled. You’re branded. Banished. Your family’s name will rot in the eyes of the capital. Your father’s seat in the Northern Assembly? Gone. Your little brother’s chance at knighthood? Buried. Your mother’s title? Stripped."

He let that hang, the words sinking in like venom, her body responding despite herself—thighs clenching, breath quickening, the mix of threat and proximity igniting a twisted spark.

Then he pushed the crystal an inch forward—like a wager on a table, the violet veins pulsing faintly, casting eerie shadows on her hand.

Kiara stared at it.

At him.

Her fingers curled slowly into fists, nails biting into her palms, her full breasts rising with labored breaths.

"You’re bluffing," she said, but her voice wasn’t sure anymore, cracking just at the edges.

"Wanna test me?" Lor asked, his hazel eyes locking onto hers, unyielding.

Silence.

Tight and coiled, the cafeteria hum distant, the air between them thick with unspoken heat and danger.

Then Kiara exhaled.

Slow.

Her fingers relaxed, uncurling as she fought to regain control.

She reached forward—not for the crystal, but to rest her hand beside it.

Almost... respectfully, her fingers brushing the table near his, a subtle touch that sent a spark through both of them.

Then she smiled.

Not fake.

Not smug.

Something stranger—admiring, reluctant, with a hint of thrill in her icy blue eyes.

"You’re better than I thought," she said, her voice soft, almost breathless.

"I know," Lor replied, his tone even, but his pulse racing with triumph.

"So now what?" she asked, leaning back slightly, her skirt shifting to reveal more of her thighs, black lace teasing in the light. "You’ve got your dagger. Going to put it to my throat?"

"No," Lor said. "That’s what you’d do."

Kiara tilted her head, her dark bangs falling slightly, curiosity mingling with the heat in her gaze. "Then what do you want?"

Lor looked at her.

Really looked—taking in the curve of her lips, the swell of her breasts, the way her body radiated power and vulnerability in equal measure.

Then smiled, slow and knowing.

"Balance."

She blinked, her thighs pressing together again, a subtle reaction to the shift in power.

"No more pretending I’m your pet. No more leash. From now on... we both walk the same rope. You pull—I’ll pull back."

Kiara’s lips parted slightly, her breath catching as the implications sank in, her body tensing with a mix of frustration and intrigue.

Then curved into a wicked grin this time.

Tense.

Honest.

Her icy blue eyes gleaming with a new respect—and perhaps, a spark of desire.

"So we’re tied together by blackmail?"

"We’re partners," Lor said, his voice low, intimate. "Bound by mutual destruction."

She laughed—once.

Short.

A little too loud, drawing a fleeting glance from a nearby table before it averted.

"Gods, I like you more now."

He finally slid the crystal back into his pocket, the hum fading as it disappeared.

But the threat?

Remained between them, hanging like a charged spell, ready to ignite.

Kiara leaned back, her eyes flicking toward him as if seeing him for the first time—really seeing the wolf beneath the sheep’s wool.

"Alright, partner. Let’s see how long we can dance before we both fall."

Lor smiled, standing up with his tray, his posture straight, commanding. "I never fall."

Kiara rose too, her curves shifting enticingly as she matched his height, her gaze locked on his.

"Everyone falls. The trick is making the other one fall first."

They walked side by side, trays in hand, the cafeteria parting around them like subjects before royals.

Two secrets.

Two blades.

Two monsters in human skin.