Amelia held Cora's trembling hands, her brows creased in concern. "Are you alright?" she asked, her voice laced with worry. Fresh tears streaked down Cora's face, her normally vibrant eyes distant, unfocused.
Cora inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself. "Amelia, there's something I need to tell you—"
The blaring sound of Amelia's alarm interrupted her.
Amelia sighed, glancing at the clock. "We need to get ready before curfew." She reached up, wiping Cora's damp cheeks before standing. "Whatever it is, we can talk later."
Cora hesitated, then nodded. Perhaps it was better this way. Some things were best left unsaid.
Outside, Oscar University was anything but calm. Students whispered in hushed voices, heads turning toward the administration building, where a tense confrontation was unfolding.
Glenda's voice carried through the hallway like a sharp blade. "What do you mean my son is missing?!" Her face was flushed with rage, her sharp nails digging into her palm as she glared at the dean.
The dean, an older woman with a calm but unreadable expression, adjusted her glasses. "Jaffet disappeared last night—"
"Last night?!" Jaffet's father thundered, his crimson-red eyes narrowing dangerously. "And you're only telling us now?" His presence alone sent a shiver through the room, his anger barely leashed. "If my son isn't found, I will personally ruin you and this entire institution."
The dean, however, remained unmoved. She clasped her hands together, her voice disturbingly even. "We both know you don't have that kind of power." She exhaled. "I'm doing everything I can to locate him. If he's alive, we'll find him. And if not…" She paused deliberately, "at least we'll find his body."
Glenda's fury burned hotter. "You dare—!"
Her hands clenched at her sides as she took a step forward, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "If I find out that you had any part in this, I'll make sure this prestigious little academy of yours is reduced to ashes."
The dean simply stared at her, unbothered. Glenda scoffed and stormed out, leaving behind a tension so thick it suffocated the air.
The dean sighed. The last thing she needed was authorities snooping around.
Cora and Amelia walked toward their classroom, but something was off. The usual morning chatter was different—more restrained, filled with tension.
"I heard Jaffet was murdered," one student whispered as they passed by.
Another student shivered. "This place is starting to feel like a horror novel."
Amelia nudged Cora. "I swear, this is not what I signed up for. What if they start killing students one by one?"
'Why wouldn't they, when this school is crawling with night creatures?' Cora thought. But aloud, she said, "We shouldn't let rumors get to us. Let's just focus on our studies and stick together."
Still, she felt the weight of the students' gazes. The whispers shifted—no longer about Jaffet, but about her.
"Why does she always wear that mask?"
"Maybe she has a horrible scar underneath."
Cora's fingers subconsciously brushed the smooth surface of her mask. It clung to her face, a permanent fixture that only fueled their curiosity.
Amelia noticed the staring, too. Annoyed, she grabbed Cora's hand and pulled her along, trying to escape their scrutiny.
But then, as if the universe decided she hadn't suffered enough, the hallway grew eerily quiet.
Cora didn't have to turn around to know why.
Damien Ravenscroft had entered the scene.
Dressed in an impeccably tailored black uniform, he moved with effortless confidence, his presence alone enough to steal every ounce of attention. Maximilian and Leonard flanked him, their steps in sync, but it was Damien who commanded the air itself.
"It's a sin to look that good," Amelia murmured beside Cora. "How can anyone be that handsome?" She turned to Cora, ready to continue her excited rambling—only to find that Cora had vanished.
Cora had taken another route, desperate to avoid Damien's suffocating attention. But, of course, the devil was not so easily evaded.
"Going somewhere, babe?"
His voice rang through the hallway, loud and deliberate.
The air tensed. Conversations halted. Every student turned their head—straight at her.
Cora's fingers curled into fists.
She slowly turned, and there he was, standing with that insufferably smug smirk, looking at her like he had just caught a pet trying to escape its leash.
Whispers erupted.
"Did he just—"
"Did Damien Ravenscroft just call her babe?"
"He's touching her! He—"
Damien closed the distance between them in a few long strides. Leaning down, his voice dropped to a whisper only she could hear.
"Don't forget our deal, little bird."
Then, just to make things worse, he took her hand.
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.
Cora clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to slap his hand away. This was exactly what she didn't want—attention, questions, curious stares.
But Damien? Oh, he was enjoying every second of it.
With an effortless tug, he pulled her along, leaving the sea of stunned students behind.
"Graves is investigating Jaffet's murder," Damien said, dragging her into an empty classroom. He shut the door behind them, leaning lazily against it. "He's using hypnosis on the humans. If he questions you, it's either you avoid him—which would be nearly impossible—or you stick close to me."
Cora rolled her eyes. "Of course you'd rub that in my face."
His smirk widened. "Oh, I haven't even started."
Ignoring him, she focused on the real concern. "What about Amelia?"
"She'll be fine." Damien shrugged. "Unless you've told her something."
"I haven't."
"Good girl."
She scowled.
Meanwhile, Graves sat across from a student, his sharp eyes boring into hers. His voice was eerily smooth.
"When was the last time you saw Jaffet?"
The girl's eyes glazed over. "He was heading to his room. It was past curfew."
"And you?"
"I was closing my window when I saw him."
Graves hummed, his gaze unrelenting.
"Forget this conversation. You wandered too far because you lost your way."
The girl nodded obediently before passing out.
Graves exhaled. "There has to be a human who knows what really happened." His gaze shifted, scanning the students walking past.
Back in the empty classroom, Cora hesitated.
"Do you believe in dreams?"
Damien tilted his head, intrigued. "Depends. Why?"
She hesitated. "I had a dream… about vampires. And a mermaid."
His expression darkened.
"This place," she continued, "what was it before it became a university?"
Damien regarded her for a long moment. "It was a palace. The residence of the previous kings and queens who ruled this land."
Her heart skipped a beat.
"In my dream, a mermaid was being eaten alive by vampires." She swallowed. "A queen and a king."
Damien stilled.
A forgotten memory crashed over him, forcing its way to the surface.
The taste of mermaid blood. The way it had slid down his throat, intoxicating and forbidden. The memory of that night—the first time he had tasted something so divine.
His gaze sharpened on Cora, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.
"What you saw," he murmured, "happened a century ago."
Cora's breath hitched. "How do you know that?"
Damien's smirk returned, but this time, there was something dark beneath it.
"Because," he said, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, "I was there."
Her pulse pounded in her ears.
Was he… the boy in her dream?
Her stomach twisted.
Just who—what—was Damien Ravenscroft?