ARIA'S POV
The ancient vampire leads me down empty hallways while Elena follows, gripping my hand tight. My legs shake with every step.
"What does the Headmaster want with me?" I whisper.
The vampire doesn't answer. Just keeps walking with that smooth, predator grace until we reach massive wooden doors. They open without him touching them.
Inside, an even older vampire sits behind a desk. His eyes are black as night. "Miss Blackwood. Welcome to Thornveil." He studies me like I'm an interesting bug. "Your invitation was... irregular. We need to establish your status here."
My mouth goes dry. "My status?"
"Are you donor class or servant class?" He picks up a pen, waiting for my answer like it's simple.
"I'm... neither? I'm a student. The invitation said—"
"The invitation was a mistake." His voice is flat. Cold. "Humans don't attend Thornveil as students. You'll be reassigned to appropriate duties tomorrow. For tonight, stay in your room. Don't wander."
He waves his hand. Dismissed. Like I'm nothing.
Elena pulls me out before I can argue. "Don't fight him," she hisses. "We'll figure this out."
But as we walk back to our room, I see my future here—servant at best, food source at worst. I didn't escape Celeste just to become someone's slave again.
I won't let them decide what I am.
"Stay close to me. Don't make eye contact. And whatever you do, don't talk to the Crown girls."
Elena's been coaching me since dawn. We're walking to the dining hall for breakfast, and she's more nervous than I've ever seen her.
"Who are the Crown girls?" I ask.
"Vampire royalty. Beautiful, cruel, and they run the school's social scene." Elena pulls me closer. "They hate humans. Especially ones who stand out."
"I'm trying NOT to stand out!"
"Too late for that."
The dining hall doors open, and every conversation stops.
Hundreds of students turn to stare at me. All of them vampire-beautiful with pale skin and dark eyes. All of them watching me like I'm dinner.
The whispers start immediately.
"Human."
"Why is SHE here?"
"She smells... different."
Elena pulls me toward an empty table in the corner, but I feel every eye following us. My skin crawls. I'm prey in a room full of hunters, and they all know it.
We sit down fast. Elena hands me a plate, but I can't eat. Can't do anything except try not to shake.
"Breathe," Elena whispers. "We just have to get through breakfast, then orientation, then—"
A girl laughs nearby. It sounds like breaking glass—beautiful and sharp and mean.
I look up and my stomach drops.
Five girls stand by the door. They're the most beautiful creatures I've ever seen—like models or movie stars or angels, if angels could look deadly. They're all watching me with cold smiles.
"That's them," Elena breathes. "Don't look. Don't—"
Too late. The leader catches my eye and smiles wider.
"Come on," Elena says urgently. "We need to leave. Now."
We stand and head for the exit, but the five girls move to block our path. They're fast—impossibly fast. One second they're across the room, the next they're in front of us.
"Going somewhere?" the leader asks. She has blonde hair and ice-blue eyes that make my blood freeze. "I don't think we've been introduced."
"We were just leaving," Elena says, her voice shaking.
"I wasn't talking to you, blood bag." The girl's smile turns cruel. "I was talking to the scholarship nobody."
The other girls laugh. They spread out, surrounding us. Circling like wolves around injured deer.
"How did trash like you get invited to Thornveil?" The leader steps closer. "This school is for the elite. For the gifted. Not for pathetic little humans with nowhere else to go."
Heat floods my face. She sounds just like Celeste. Like Vivian. Like everyone who's ever made me feel worthless.
"Leave her alone," Elena says, stepping between us.
The blonde girl moves so fast I barely see it. She shoves Elena backward. Hard. Elena crashes into a table and crumples.
"Elena!" I run to her, but hands grab my arms from behind. Two of the Crown girls hold me in place.
The leader walks forward slowly, enjoying this. "What's your name, scholarship girl?"
"Let me go!"
"Answer the question."
"Aria," I spit out. "Aria Blackwood."
"Aria Blackwood." She says it like it tastes bad. "I'm Seraphine Voss. Remember that name, because I'm going to make your life here a living hell."
She grabs my arm. Her hand is ice-cold—so cold it burns. Her grip is crushing, way stronger than any normal person's. I gasp in pain.
"You don't belong here," Seraphine hisses, leaning close. Her breath smells like copper and death. "This place is for us. Not for weak little humans who'll be dead in a few decades anyway."
"Maybe she's a blood donor," one of the other girls suggests. "Fresh meat for the upperclassmen?"
"Too scrawny," another says. "Probably wouldn't survive a single feeding."
They all laugh. The sound echoes through the hall. I look around desperately—hundreds of students watching, but nobody moves to help. Nobody cares.
"Last chance," Seraphine says, her fangs sliding out. They're sharp and white and terrifying. "Leave Thornveil now. Walk out those doors and never come back. Or we'll make sure you regret every single day you stay."
"I have nowhere else to go," I whisper.
"Then you're going to suffer."
She tightens her grip. I cry out—her fingers feel like they're breaking my bones. Elena tries to stand, to help, but another Crown girl kicks her legs out from under her.
"Stop!" I scream. "Leave her alone! This is about me, not her!"
Seraphine's smile widens. "Oh, it's definitely about you. You're a nobody. A nothing. And we're going to teach you what happens to humans who—"
"That's enough."
The voice cuts through the hall like a blade made of silk and ice.
Everything stops.
Every single student in the dining hall goes completely still. Heads bow. Eyes drop to the floor. Even Seraphine's grip on my arm loosens.
The crowd parts like someone's pushing them aside with invisible hands.
And he walks through.
My heart stops.
He's the most beautiful person I've ever seen—no, beautiful isn't the right word. He's devastating. Tall, with dark hair that falls perfectly across his forehead. His skin is pale like marble, flawless and cold-looking. He's wearing all black, and it makes him look like a prince from a dark fairy tale.
But it's his eyes that steal my breath.
Silver. Actual liquid silver, glowing faintly in the light. They're the most unusual eyes I've ever seen, and right now they're fixed on me with an intensity that makes my skin flush hot despite the cold radiating from him.
He moves like a predator—smooth and controlled and absolutely deadly. Every step is graceful, purposeful, like he's never made a clumsy movement in his life.
Everyone steps back as he passes. Some bow deeper. Others look terrified.
My pulse pounds in my ears. I can't look away from him.
He stops right in front of me. Right in front of Seraphine.
But he doesn't look at her. He looks at me.
And when our eyes meet, something in my chest clenches tight.
"Release her," he says quietly.
His voice. Oh god, his voice. It's smooth and cultured and dangerous, like expensive whiskey that burns going down. The sound of it does something to my insides, makes warmth pool low in my stomach even though I should be terrified.
Seraphine lets go immediately. She actually backs up a step, bowing her head. "Lucian, I didn't realize—"
"I don't recall asking for an explanation." His voice is soft but somehow more frightening than if he'd yelled. "Aria Blackwood is under my protection. Touch her again, and you'll answer to me personally."
The way he says my name—slow, deliberate, like he's tasting it—makes my breath catch.
The hall erupts in whispers. Shocked whispers. Scared whispers.
Seraphine's face goes white with rage and humiliation. "But she's just a—"
"A human under my protection." Lucian finally looks at her, and even I can feel the power radiating from him. "Or is that a problem, Seraphine?"
"No." The word comes out strangled. "No problem at all."
"Good." He turns back to me, and his expression softens just slightly. "Are you alright?"
I open my mouth but nothing comes out. Up close, he's even more overwhelming. I notice details I couldn't see from across the room—the sharp line of his jaw, the way his dark hair curls slightly at his neck, the impossible perfection of his features.
And his scent. He smells like winter night and something spicy I can't name. It shouldn't be attractive—he's cold and dangerous and definitely a vampire—but my body doesn't seem to care.
"I..." I try to form words. "I'm... fine."
His lips curve into the smallest smile, like he knows exactly how flustered I am. "Can you stand?"
I nod, not trusting my voice.
He takes my arm—the one Seraphine crushed—and his touch sends electricity through me despite the ice-cold temperature of his skin. His fingers are gentle as he examines the bruises forming, and I can't help but notice how long and elegant they are.
Something dangerous flashes in his silver eyes as he studies the marks.
"This will heal," he says, more to himself than to me. His thumb brushes across my skin so softly I almost don't feel it. Almost. "But it shouldn't have happened at all."
The gentle touch from someone so deadly makes my heart race even faster.
He looks up suddenly, catching me staring. Our eyes lock, and the intensity in his gaze makes me forget to breathe. For a moment, the whole hall disappears. There's just him, looking at me like I'm something rare and precious and worth protecting.
Heat floods my cheeks. I look away quickly.
Lucian stands, releasing my arm slowly. "Who did this?"
Seraphine starts backing toward the door, but Lucian's voice stops her.
"Stay."
She freezes like she's been turned to stone.
He looks around the hall, his commanding presence making everyone cower. "Let me be very clear. Aria Blackwood is off-limits. Anyone who touches her, threatens her, or makes her feel unwelcome will deal with me. Am I understood?"
A chorus of "Yes, Lucian" echoes through the hall.
He nods once, then looks down at me. "Walk with me."
It's not a request. But the way he offers his arm—formal, almost old-fashioned—makes something flutter in my chest.
My hand shakes as I take his arm. His muscles are solid beneath the fabric, and the cold radiating from him should be uncomfortable but somehow isn't.
Elena scrambles up, looking between me and Lucian with huge eyes and a knowing smile.
Lucian starts walking, and I follow because what else can I do? The crowd parts for us like he's royalty. Maybe he is.
I'm hyperaware of every point where our bodies touch—his arm under my hand, the way he adjusts his pace to match mine, how he angles himself slightly between me and the staring students like a shield.
We walk out of the dining hall into an empty corridor. The sounds fade behind us.
"Who are you?" I finally manage to ask, my voice shakier than I'd like.
He glances down at me, and something warm flickers in those silver eyes. "Lucian Ashford. Student council president."
"Why did you help me?" The question comes out as a whisper because he's so close, his presence overwhelming.
"Because you looked like you needed it." We stop in a quiet courtyard, and he turns to face me fully. "Why did you come to Thornveil, Aria?"
The way he says my name again—low and intimate—makes my stomach flip.
"To escape," I say honestly. "From my stepmother. My old life."
Something flickers in his eyes—understanding, maybe. And something else. Something that looks almost like pain. "And now you're here. Surrounded by vampires."
"I didn't know what this place was."
"But you know now." He steps closer, and my back hits the courtyard wall. I didn't even realize I was backing up. "And you're still here. Still standing. Despite everything."
He's too close. Close enough that I can see tiny flecks of darker silver in his eyes. Close enough to feel the cold rolling off his skin. Close enough that if I leaned forward just a little—
What am I thinking? He's a vampire. A predator. I should be terrified.
But my heart is racing for an entirely different reason, and I think he knows it.
Lucian reaches out slowly, giving me time to pull away. But I don't. Can't. His fingers brush my wrist, right where Seraphine grabbed me, and the touch is so gentle it makes my breath hitch.
No pulse. His wrist has no pulse when I press my fingers against it in shock.
My eyes snap up to his face. He's watching me with that amused expression, waiting for me to figure it out. Waiting to see if I'll run.
"You're..." I can't say it. Can't make it real.
"A vampire. Yes." His smile widens, and I see fangs. Sharp. White. Deadly.
I should run. Should scream.
Instead, I'm frozen, staring at him, my heart pounding so hard I'm sure he can hear it.
"Welcome to Thornveil Academy, Aria Blackwood." He leans closer, his lips near my ear, his cold breath making me shiver. "Try not to bleed."
The warning should terrify me. But the way his voice drops low and rough on those words makes heat flood through me instead.
He pulls back slightly, and our faces are inches apart. His silver eyes drop to my lips for just a second—so quick I almost miss it—before meeting my gaze again.
The air between us feels charged, dangerous, like touching a live wire.
I can't breathe. Can't think. Can't do anything except feel the magnetic pull toward someone I should absolutely stay away from.
"I..." My voice comes out breathy and weak.
A bell rings somewhere in the distance, breaking the moment.
Lucian steps back, and I can suddenly breathe again. He looks perfectly composed, but something in his eyes tells me he felt it too—that dangerous pull between us.
"Your schedule," he says, his voice back to that controlled smoothness. "Let me see it."
I fumble in my pocket, my hands shaking, and hand him the paper. His fingers brush mine when he takes it, and even that small touch sends sparks through me.
What is wrong with me? He's literally a vampire who drinks blood and could kill me without trying.
But my body doesn't seem to care about logic.
Lucian scans the schedule, and his expression darkens. "Alchemy? Advanced blood magic?"
"Is that bad?"
He looks up, and the worry in his eyes is real. "It's dangerous."
"Why?"
"Come with me." He starts walking, and I follow automatically. "I need to explain something about vampires. About blood."
We end up at a door marked STUDENT COUNCIL. He ushers me inside—a private office with a desk and bookshelves and a window overlooking the mountains.
Being alone with him in a closed room should terrify me. Instead, I'm acutely aware of how close we're standing, how he smells like winter and spice, how his presence fills the entire space.
"Alchemy involves blood magic," Lucian says, leaning against the desk. "Sharp instruments. And twenty vampires who haven't fed this morning."
"And?" My voice sounds breathless.
"And human blood calls to us." His eyes darken slightly. "Even the most controlled vampires struggle with fresh blood. Young blood."
The way he looks at me when he says it—hungry but fighting it—makes my pulse spike.
"Are you... struggling right now?" I ask, and I don't know why I'm asking, why I'm not running.
Lucian's jaw tightens. "More than I should be."
The confession hangs between us. Honest. Raw. Dangerous.
"Should I be scared?" I whisper.
"Yes." He pushes off the desk, moving closer. "You should be terrified of me, Aria. I could kill you without thinking. Drain you dry in seconds. Every instinct I have says you're prey."
He stops right in front of me, so close I have to tilt my head back to see his face.
"But?" I breathe, because there's definitely a 'but' coming.
"But I won't." His voice drops to barely a whisper. "Because something about you makes me want to protect you instead. And I don't understand it. Don't understand why I can't stop thinking about the way you smell, the way your heart races when I'm close, the way you look at me like I'm not a monster."
My breath catches. "I don't think you're a monster."
"You should."
"But I don't."
We're staring at each other, and the tension is so thick I could choke on it. His eyes drop to my neck—to my pulse point—and his pupils dilate. When he looks back up, there's raw hunger there mixed with something else. Something that looks like longing.
"In that alchemy class," he says, his voice rough, "don't cut yourself. Don't bleed. Not even a drop."
"Why?" My voice is barely audible.
"Because if I smell your blood—" He stops, jaw clenching. "Just don't. Please."
The 'please' breaks something in me. This powerful, dangerous vampire is asking—not commanding—because he doesn't trust himself around my blood.
"Okay," I whisper. "I won't."
"Promise me." His hand lifts like he's going to touch my face, but he stops himself, fingers hovering near my cheek. "Promise me you'll be careful."
"I promise."
His hand drops. He steps back, putting distance between us like he doesn't trust himself this close.
"The class is in five minutes," he says, his voice back to controlled. "Third floor, east wing. Professor Crane's laboratory."
I move toward the door on shaky legs, my whole body still buzzing from his nearness.
"Aria."
I turn back. He's watching me with those silver eyes, and the expression on his face is complicated—worry and hunger and something that might be longing.
"If something goes wrong in that room," he says quietly, "run. Don't stop. Don't look back. Just run and find me immediately."
"Why? What aren't you telling me?"
"That I don't trust myself if you bleed." The confession is raw, honest. "That I don't know if I could stop the others without losing control myself. That every second I'm near you, I want—"
He cuts himself off, shaking his head.
"Want what?" I ask, my heart pounding.
His eyes meet mine, burning with intensity. "Things I have no right to want."
The words hang between us, heavy with meaning.
Then he turns away. "Go. Before I do something stupid."
I slip out the door, my legs weak, my mind spinning.
He wants me. I can feel it. Not just my blood—me.
And the terrifying part? I want him too.
A vampire who could kill me.
Who looks at me like I'm precious.
Who makes my heart race and my skin flush and my body forget every reason why this is dangerous.
I make it to the alchemy lab in a daze. Through the window, I see students already seated. All vampire-beautiful. All watching the door.
Waiting for me.
Then I see him—a boy in the back with dark hair and a scar across his neck. He turns his head suddenly, and his eyes meet mine through the glass.
Dark. Haunted. Filled with pain.
His nostrils flare. His eyes widen.
And he grips the desk so hard the wood cracks.
The door opens.
"Miss Blackwood." Professor Crane stands there with kind eyes. "Please, come in. We've been waiting for you."
I look down the hallway one last time, wondering if I should run back to Lucian.
But Professor Crane is already guiding me inside.
"Take a seat at the front," he says gently. "And don't worry. My students are very well controlled."
The door closes with a sound like a tomb sealing shut.
My phone buzzes. One text from an unknown number:
Whatever happens in that classroom, don't trust anyone. Especially not Crane. He knows what you are. - K.D.
Professor Crane smiles at me. "Now then, Miss Blackwood. Let's begin your first lesson in blood magic, shall we?"
He hands me a silver knife.
And all I can think about is Lucian's voice: Don't bleed. Please.