Lyra had never intended to follow him.
It started as curiosity.Elias had been "helpful" for days—hovering in the cafeteria, offering notes,lingering near classes—but she wanted proof he was just… human-friendly.Or maybe she just didn't want to feel powerless anymore.
So when she saw him slip toward the shadows behind the science building after lunch,she followed.
The alley smelled of damp stone and decay, a sharp contrast to the warm sun on campus. Lyra's heart hammered in her chest.
Elias knelt beside someone lying on the cobblestones,their arm bleeding softly into the ground....Lyra froze.
The vampire moved with terrifying precision. His fangs glinted in the sunlight for just a fraction of a second before disappearing into his mouth.The human whimpered,weak but alive,and Elias's eyes flicked toward Lyra.
Her stomach lurched.
"E-Elias…" she whispered.
He straightened immediately, the fangs gone, the casual smile that never reached his eyes back in place.
"You weren't supposed to see this," he said, voice deceptively calm.
"I—" Lyra choked on her words. "You… you can't just—"
"Shh," he interrupted, stepping closer, and she stumbled back instinctively. "You don't understand."
"I understand enough!" she snapped, fear and anger mingling. "This is wrong. You're hurting someone!"
Elias's eyes darkened—dangerous, predatory. The human groaned and managed to crawl a step away. Elias's hand flicked, stopping them silently.
"You shouldn't be here," he said, voice low, almost a growl. "You're making a mistake."
Lyra ran.
She didn't look back. Heart slamming, breaths ragged, shoes clattering against stone. She didn't stop until she reached the main courtyard.
Students passed by, oblivious. She felt their eyes, their normal, human warmth, and it hit her like a wave. She had escaped—barely—but Elias's presence lingered, haunting the space she had fled.
Behind her, she could almost feel him following—not physically, but like a shadow pressed against her back, ready to strike if she faltered.
Elias's Anger
Elias did not run after her.
He stayed in the alley, fangs flashing for a split second, anger coiling around him like a living thing.
"She's bold," he muttered to himself. "Too bold. No one sees me and walks away."
He clenched his fists, knuckles whitening. The thought that Lyra had seen that side of him—unmasked, violent—made his chest tighten.
He wouldn't forget this.
And neither would he forgive.
Lyra didn't sleep that night.
Every shadow seemed to stretch longer than usual. Every whisper of the wind carried the weight of what she had seen. She didn't write letters—not yet. She just curled her notebook to her chest and thought of Kael.
If only he knew.
If only he could stop Elias.
Somewhere, deep in the darkness of the campus, Elias seethed.
The game had changed.
And now Lyra had a reason to run, to hide, and to trust no one but herself—and maybe Kael.