Naurina's POV
The gates of Crimson Academy towered over me, black iron spikes cutting into the gray sky. Shadows pooled on the cobblestone path, stretching and twisting in the faint breeze, like fingers pointing at me. Boarding only. Once you entered, there was no going home. No safe corners, no sanctuary. I tightened my grip on my bag strap and tried to steady my breathing.
I hated vampires. Every polished, arrogant, perfect creature that glided through these halls made my blood boil. And now, I was about to spend a full year trapped among them.
"You look like you're planning an escape already," a calm, soft voice said beside me.
I turned to Sorina, my assigned roommate. Black hair cascading over one shoulder, red eyes glinting like polished garnets. She didn't smile, but the faint tilt of her lips suggested amusement.
"I'm just… observing," I muttered, attempting to sound confident.
"Observe quietly," she said. "It's safer that way."
I looked around. Students moved in precise groups, laughter controlled, steps deliberate. Not a stumble, not a spill, not a wrong glance. Even their chaos was choreographed. Their gaze flicked over me, assessing, weighing. My stomach tightened. Humans like me didn't belong here. I wasn't pretending to. I wouldn't.
The courtyard stretched ahead, cobblestone paths crisscrossing perfectly trimmed lawns. Fountains whispered quietly, water rippling in time with the faint wind. Every step I took felt heavier than the last. The shadows of the towering buildings seemed to lean toward me. I could feel them watching.
"Quiet observation is the key here," Sorina murmured, guiding me through the massive main doors. "Loudness draws attention. Curiosity gets noticed. Fear… is worse."
Hate was my armor. I hated vampires. Their elegance, their dominance, the way they could make humans feel insignificant. I refused to bow.
The halls were vaulted, arches stretching impossibly high. Portraits of vampire ancestors lined the walls, eyes seeming alive, following us as we passed. I noticed tiny details: the shimmer of polished floors, faint scents of herbs and something metallic in the air.
"These are the dormitories," Sorina said. "Your room is here."
The door opened, revealing a small chamber. Two beds, two desks, and a tall window overlooking the courtyard. Simple, modest, but intimidating nonetheless.
"Curfew is ten," Sorina said. "Lights out eleven. Dorm inspections random. You can leave to study, but never alone. Hallways aren't safe after dark."
"Safe from what?" I asked, voice tight.
"Some of the students," she replied. "Power matters more than friendship. Some enjoy testing limits. You're human. Don't give them a reason to notice you too much."
I clenched my fists. "They don't need a reason. I already despise them."
Her eyes scanned me sharply. "Good. Don't lose that. Just… hide it when necessary."
After unpacking, Sorina led me to the dining hall. Long tables stretched into the distance, vaulted ceilings catching the dim chandelier light. Students sat according to an invisible hierarchy: purebloods at the center, influential families flanking them, and everyone else filling the remaining tables.
I froze. Some older students held slender silver flasks, sipping a dark liquid with deliberate, calm movements. Blood. Human or animal, I didn't know. They drank it like water, effortlessly, without a trace of discomfort. The metallic scent clung to the air, sweet and chilling.
"Don't look shocked," Sorina whispered. "It's normal here."
I clenched my jaw, nausea rising. I hated vampires, hated everything about them—their arrogance, their elegance, the way they consumed life casually.
"They even make it look… elegant," I muttered under my breath.
"Elegance can be dangerous," Sorina said softly. "You'll get used to it—or you'll pay for not observing."
I gritted my teeth. I would never get used to this. I would never like them. I would never respect them.
Sorina guided me to the center of the dining hall, away from the newcomer tables.
"Hierarchy isn't written down," she said quietly. "But it exists. Learn it. Obey it. Survive it."
I nodded, trying not to appear nervous.
"Start with Damien Volkov," she said.
I froze. "Damien Volkov?"
"You don't know him yet," she said. "That's good."
"Why avoid him?" I asked.
"Because he doesn't lose. He doesn't ignore anything that interests him. Humans notice you before you even enter the hall. Keep your head down until you understand him."
I scribbled the name in my notebook, stomach tightening.
"And his friends?"
"His inner circle," she said. "All purebloods, all powerful. Don't assume kindness. Respect, maybe. Friendliness, rarely."
I clenched my jaw. Humans like me didn't stand a chance here. But I refused to bow.
I finally sat at the newcomer table, trying to focus on my tray. I had just picked up my fork when a sudden awareness hit me. Someone was watching. Not a glance, not curiosity, but a stare that made my skin crawl. My pulse spiked. I froze mid-bite.
Eyes, sharp and unblinking, pierced through the hall, through the chatter, straight at me. I could feel it, calculating, assessing. Someone was studying me. And I hated it.
Sorina leaned closer. "Relax. You're fine."
"Relax?" I whispered. "Someone is staring like I'm… dinner."
Her red eyes flicked to the far table. "Not all of them. But watch the pureblood table to the right."
I glanced. Across the hall, seated at the center of influence, was a boy—dark hair, sharp features, commanding presence. His piercing gaze cut right through me. He didn't smile. He didn't move. He simply watched. Every movement, every expression, recorded. My chest tightened.
Sorina's voice was almost conspiratorial. "Damien Volkov. Keep your distance."
I stiffened. "He's… just staring."
"That's what he does," Sorina said. "He notices everything. Everyone. Humans especially. Don't give him a reason to remember you. Stay calm. Survive."
I glared at him across the hall, then looked away. I hated vampires. I hated him. I hated that a single stare could unsettle me. My pulse raced—not fear, not quite—but irritation, curiosity, disgust.
Classes, tours, library visits, and orientation filled the day. Every glance, every whisper reminded me I was human, a minority, an outsider. Every moment was a test.
Back in the dorms, I unpacked slowly, reclaiming control. Every item carefully placed, a small victory in a world ruled by predators. I looked out the window at the courtyard. Students glided gracefully across the stone paths, some pausing to sip from silver flasks with practiced ease. I clenched my fists. I hated them all. I would never like them. But I would survive.
And when the time came… I would remind them humans weren't weak.