The days bled together.
There was no time to stop and dwell on my routine. It formed on its own. I'd awaken after the same dream; darkness all around me and acute awareness of something else nibbling away at my fight or flight response from a distance. I would've thought it toyed with me had there not been such a rush to it, like hair blowing back in an untamed breeze or the backwards jerk of hitting the seat when driving too fast.
The approach seemed to begin at the end of the world and finish at where I stood in that black mass. Two ends of string or carpet rolling towards each other at a rate that was both painstakingly slow and fast enough to make me wonder what I'd do when I found what was on the other side.
If it collided with me, would it kill me on impact? Would it slow and hesitate? Would it stop short and force me to close the gap? Would it see me?
There were too many questions, and every time my curiosity circled back to the most pressing one: should I be afraid?
Last night, I promised to tell Clara about it if it persisted for another day, but when my head hit the pillow I slept through the night like a log. The movement stilled. My phone's alarm blared through the room this morning like it had in semesters past. So as I rubbed my eyes, I realized three things.
First, it was over. Second, I was confused. Third, my inner battles didn't postpone my classes.
Third-year courses shared closer resemblance to final assessments than lessons. First-years were the ones bogged down with more humanlike curriculum, receiving handouts, workbook pages, and chapters to read at their leisure. A tribute to their last year of doing anything that catered to the mortal palette. Second-years shifted into pre-eternal gear by delving into advanced histories of the immortal races, learning the anatomy and pieces of pre-eternal bodies, and beginning training for physical exams that tested our prowess. It was the year we approached the starting line.
But in my year, the final one, the implicit expectation was that we had learned all we needed. Textbooks generally closed in exchange for experience. If we'd just found our footing at the starting line, then we now knelt and began our mental prep for the race ahead. Consideration for alignment was our theme, and so was our entrance to pre-eternal society.
Somehow, the workload and our professors' approach to it was like the vampire attack. Sudden, aggressive, and fast-paced. So much so, that it was easy to forget a relic hung around my neck.
To it's credit, it blended in relatively well by hiding under my collar and cloak. If it poked out from underneath my clothes, then it resembled costume jewelry more than anything else. A gaudy birthday present or a coming-of-age gift, maybe. A hint too formal to go unnoticed, but not obnoxious enough that it warranted questions. Only those that played Truth or Dare that night shot me conspiratorial winks or smirks. I hadn't seen Yoongi since, but I assumed he would treat me like I hadn't worn it at all. As for the times I passed Ezra, a curt nod was all I'd get.
As I entered the dining hall for breakfast, it was the exact same as Ezra strolled past me with an orange and bottle of water. Students waited in the buffet serving lines or hung around their signature tables with their own groups, all of them alive and restless for the day ahead. Their many voices knocked against rafters and ricocheted from the stained glass windows like wind chimes. Members of the Ivory Table were spread throughout the stretching aisles of cushioned-back chairs, but that did not stop a cluster of white cloaks from gathering at the head of a rectangular table furthest left. Ignoring their penetrating glowers, I snatched an apple from one of the nearby baskets and ambled over to Miles.
His cologne wafted over me as I plopped down next to him, the small changes in his face subtle as I watched him do his homework. Since the two years I'd left home, his jaw had sharpened and his lashes had grown. There was no longer a doe-eyed naïveté to his glances but a sharpened focus, a curiosity native to a young man that wanted to soak up life rather than let it happen around him. He looked like our father, and a fist squeezed my heart at how much I missed our parents even if we just left their home.
As I bit into my apple, his full lips scrunched to one side of his face. "Who said you could sit there?"
I rolled my eyes, still wanting to hug him despite early sarcasm. Ever so subtly I glanced over his shoulder, a gasp bubbling from my lips as I recognized the worksheet. "Combat geometry? I hated that class!"
"I can't say I hate it," he began, picking the paper up between his large hands to let the morning sun see it too. "But is this actually applicable to the real world?"
"C'mon. Everyone needs to know how to calculate the right angles for fleeing from battle!" I made a face and he huffed a breath and snatched his pencil. In truth, combat geometry was a sorry excuse to make sure the new kids were sharp in math while keeping the subject engaging.
No one at school considered the mathematical trajectory to climbing a tree or hopping buildings. We just did it. The calculation didn't matter anyway. When in midair or squeezing out the last of our strength on foot, it was clear whether or not we'd reach our mark. The span of our abilities was just as suddenly understandable as our knowledge that we were being pursued. Numbers became as useless as words. There was only action.
"Besides that, how are your classes?" I took another bite of apple and scanned the room for Jimin and Clara. Both of them already stared at me, Clara smiling and waving when we locked gazes. While it nourished my soul just as much as my breakfast, I couldn't help but feel bad too. I hadn't seen them since Manhunt. I hadn't seen Miles since then either.
My brother shrugged and dragged his planner forward to leaf through the pages. Highlighted dates and surprisingly neat handwriting flickered on each spring day. "They're demanding, but it's more of the essay writing that's going to get me."
"I'm sorry," I said.
The planner flicking paused, his bewilderment clear in the way he blinked when his head swiveled to me. "What did you do?"
How could I say it? I finally had a chance to see this little guy every day if I wanted after spending weeks of my first years at Renault wishing for his company. He had finally arrived and my head burrowed so far down in my books and dreams that I failed to show him around campus.
"I... feel like I have not been the best sister." Even as I spoke, his brows arched in concern. "I should see you more often. Like we should get a snack after classes or something or meet in the Quad one day of the week," I said, resisting the urge to squirm or shove the apple into my mouth again. "Mom and Dad would like that."
His chuckle started off soft but grew into a roar of laughter. As others started to look, I wondered if he needed the apple in his mouth instead. But soon enough he gave me a smile that was dazzlingly foreign. Matured. "Mel, we go to the same school. That's it."
"What do you mean?"
"We have our own lives. You don't have to hold my hand. I'd actually like it if I didn't have to be Melissa's little brother." He started to pack up while that sentence tried and failed to translate into my tangled thoughts. As he zipped up his backpack, he gathered his food wrapping and crinkled it into his fist. "No offense, but I'm Miles and you're Mel. We've got our own gigs."
Okay, that one stung a bit. But as much as it pinched a nerve, I was just as proud. "You mean you don't want to have sleepovers?"
He pretended to gag. "We're good where we are. You don't have to apologize."
He stood to throw away his trash, but I caught his blazer sleeve. "You have no choice about liking to be my little brother, got it?"
"I guess," he drawled, his arms stretching and breaking from my grip, "at least you're fairly cool here."
Memories of Manhunt slammed into me. Those that celebrated my accomplishments in the past had forgotten my name for the sake of the next big thing. I stole an extra glance around the cafeteria, affirmed in the stares that were meant for him but caught by the wrong sibling. They looked away instantly.
"I think you've passed me up in popularity," I mumbled, jerking my head at the mass of classmates behind us. Miles regarded them through his lashes, his demeanor wary even if a bit shy. "Is that why you don't want me hanging around you? Don't want me to bring you down?"
"Stop that," he grumbled. "That's not why." But his frame stilled, his eyes latching onto something in the distance before darting back to me. I turned as quick as I could to his line of sight. At another table, Helena giggled with another clique of girls.
When I whirled back around, he was already squinting his eyes shut. "Don't. That's not why either."
Yeah, right. I crossed my arms, reining in the retort that readied on my tongue. If I gave him crap for it now, he might never share a peep again. So, I uncrossed my arms and focused on my apple again.
"Don't be late to class. Let's hang out soon."
He nodded, sparing one last puppy-eyed look to Helena before bounding off. The warning bell rang throughout the school for ten minutes before class. I finished my apple and went to my own class, wondering where the time had gone until I sat at my desk.
✥ • • • • • ✥
The trick to learning anything was losing myself in it. Pretending to be interested in the subject whether it was mundane or life-saving, because at some point, that little detail might have meant the difference between wiggling free from a narrow spot or being struck down. Ironically enough, the half of me fated to live on needed the most instruction.
When the clock tower bell rang for lunch, I scribbled down the last of the presentation notes and shoveled my things into my backpack. Just as I zipped up, a throat cleared at the front of the room.
Matthias's glare could've cut me in half. In the washed sunlight, his eyes were the color of two rusted blades. His long blonde hair was tucked neatly behind both of his ears, his ivory cloak marking him like a chosen warrior as he stood before the blackboard. At his side, Seokjin waited patiently, bored. My professor ignored the entire scene to straighten out the lesson plan on his desk.
Matthias' tone was drier than the untouched chalk at the front of the class. "Follow us, Melissa."
My chair screeched as I pushed it in, but I slung my bag over my shoulder and listened. Ignoring the fact that Matthias summoned me like a dog, not even Jin slowed to stroll at my side. And as the burden of my collection sharpened into focus, I supposed I should've been grateful that they at least didn't humor me with niceties. In fact, maybe I should've been grateful they graced me with their personal escort.
To the naked eye, we were three Ivory Table members scaring kids out of our path. They parted for us out of natural instinct. But if they only knew a three-way power struggle was building in their midst, a tug-of-war that'd soon stretch to the other seven, I wondered what they'd think.
It was bullshit either way.
The Ivory Table met in a conference room on the fourth floor. Within those four regal walls were a round table and ten chairs. Photos of graduated Ivory Table, the faces of the most famous vorvian and dropir with the highest kill counts, stared over the assembly. To the right, a fireplace and colossal mirror overlooked white couches and a coffee table reserved for more casual conversation. But across from the double doors was all glass. A sweeping view of Renault's Fields and the Quad that also fueled the power-hungry fantasies of an elite student council.
Isidora, Antero, and Viyana chatted by that window, the pallid sun framing them in a frosted glow worthy of heaven-sent deities. At the door's close, Isidora found me first, extending an arm towards the round table. I couldn't hold back my sarcastic smile. At least they considered my summons formal business.
As we settled in, Isidora leaned back in her chair and looked to Viyana, the only second-year on the council. Viyana's thick raven bob swayed as she cocked her head and let her sepia lips fall in mock sympathy.
"Before I say anything, we agreed to be completely transparent in communicating our feelings to you."
I held up a hand. "Nothing against you, Vi, but I'd prefer someone in my class to speak up."
Viyana nodded out of respect, sitting back even if she frowned a bit. Isidora looked to someone else along with Matthias. When their attention fell on Jin, he shook his head and checked his nails.
"I'm not delivering a decision I didn't agree with," he said, his tone loud and clear even if he didn't pay them mind.
Antero sat up and sighed, his ivory hood clinging to the back of his mop of brown curls. "The rest of us spoke on the matter of your involvement for the year. The discussion traveled to several different places before landing on a final verdict."
I shifted in my seat, the weight of the necklace anchoring me to the cushion just as much as my prior years of blood, sweat, and tears. Even so, I opted to give this half-baked approach a chance before unleashing.
Antero entwined his fingers on the tabletop. "In light of recent events, especially with what happened to you this winter break, we would like to relieve you of duties."
"Relieve?" The word was as uncomfortable as sand in my mouth. Hard to say, and equally as disgusting.
"It is not permanent, and it is not removal," Matthias announced. His Serbian accent was stronger when he was being firm. "The terms are that you are not obligated to join us until you are comfortable and able to commit your full attention."
"My full attention," I repeated. The grandfather clock ticked away at my back. Each shifting click hammered the silence.
"We don't want to argue," Isidora chimed. For once, she gave off less hostility than Matthias. "Some feel more strongly than others, but we aren't certain if you're fit to investigate with us at this time."
At this time? Was this a business email? I was ready to give more than a piece of my mind until the sentence sank in.
"Investigate?" I asked.
Isidora and Viyana frowned. Matthias' scowl was so deep it could get stuck that way. But Jin looked up from his nails as Antero leaned forward to prop his elbows on the table.
"You don't know?" Antero asked.
My first thought dashed to Miles. Of course they'd hesitate to let me in if the investigation was too personal. But I'd seen him at breakfast and he looked and sounded fine. If he'd done something in class then maybe that's why they came for me? But if he were in trouble...
"Spit it out!"
Jin's lips flattened, but his voice lowered. "Someone got hurt at the bonfire."
Relief loosened my grip on the armrests even if a pit twisted somewhere in my core. It wasn't Miles, and I shouldn't have felt so good about the news, but it helped me sit straighter in my chair. "What happened?"
Viyana shouted, "If someone didn't find him in time—,"
Antero silenced her with a raised hand. When he faced me, his human hybrid genetics seemed to possess mortal concern. "The details are grotesque, but he was bitten. He rests in the infirmary and Headmistress has people watching him and tending to his wounds."
Bitten.
My stomach flipped. Flashes of tangled limbs and screams strobed beneath my eyelids. The room seemed to rock, swinging me between fear and nausea in a rhythm so much like the grandfather clock. My voice was brittle and small.
"Bitten? He can't be. We were all there."
Jin crossed one leg over the other. "That's what concerns me as well."
"And it's what we're looking into," Isidora answered, still as stone in her seat. With her head propped up by a few slender fingers on her chin she made it look like a throne. "And that's why it's best that you take a break during it."
The logic made sense. I holed up in my suite before school to wallow in my feelings over an attack. I didn't even attend their intro meetings and yet I expected to hop onto a case similar to what I relived in nightmares. Not only that, but I hadn't wanted to rejoin their clique by my adamance to be where I wanted when I wanted. Lunging at the chance to tag along now seemed hypocritical of me.
This was their idea of mercy. Yet, they failed to realize I didn't ask for it. Even if I occasionally failed to show it, I was doing my best to not be defined by a childish mistake. Putting me on the bench now shoved me into that image.
"So what? I turn in my cloak for a few days?"
"If that's what you prefer," Jin stated.
"It obviously doesn't matter what I prefer. The decision was made for me. Behind my back," I spat, measuring up everyone on the other half of the table.
"If you were present, that wouldn't be the case," Isidora added.
"You can keep the cloak. We just would not blame you if you made yourself scarce," Antero said.
Right. It would not be a problem if I continued to hide and cower. I set that standard for my behavior in dire circumstances. Forget giving me a chance to be anything different. They acknowledged how human I was though it came at the cost of stripping me of all the courage and toughness I learned as dhampir. In a sense, they called me weak with straight faces.
Besides, the news toppled me into sickness. I too easily recalled the worst incident and assumed my brother's involvement. I nestled into being a victim. My first instinct wasn't to fight or plan, it was panic.
I was weak, and as I sat in the room and let the truth blanket the table, a lump formed in my throat. My legs were heavy as I stood and gathered my things, and even if I wanted to fall back down and sit in it for a while longer, I mustered enough strength to take a step back. To ice over my feelings one more time to save the last shred of my dignity. "I expect updates on the student's condition. If I'm left in the dark, I'll investigate on my own."
Their faces gave away little, but I didn't need their approval to excuse myself. The further I rushed from the table, the faster my emotions churned and pressed against that icy shield built just for them. A clash of cold against hot, my chilled persona didn't stand a chance. Heat flooded my cheeks, flowed through my shaking hands, and welled behind my eyelids. A burst of warmth that threatened to pull at the epicenter of the fire inside me until I drew it back in.
Before I knew it, I surged over cobble and ice, my figure hidden by the length of whitened pine trees and looming castle walls. Powdered snow melted against my skin. Despite the light downfall, sweat lined my brow, heating me inside and out even as I dropped onto a secluded iron bench and unraveled.
My childhood friends.
The forest floor dressed with blood.
The terror of escaping by a thread.
My inability to choose a side.
I mourned all of it. It wasn't until my throat was sore and my eyes burned that I sensed eyes on me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I surveyed my surroundings. With the school at my back, an expanse of snow and trees rolled over smooth hills ahead. But I was too tired, too bare to be concerned with the direction from which the stare came. If someone were going to put me out of my misery or add to it, it would have been better for us both if they were swift about it.
"I know you're there," I called.
The soft rustle of leaves answered. Nothing else.
"Are you just going to creep or are you going to say something?" I wasn't crazy. My senses responded to another presence. A chill shivered from my heart outwards as memories of the dream resurfaced. The approach. Being watched. Similar feelings, but not of the same strain. "Come out already!"
Snow crunched under a shoe once, twice, several times. My heart raced. My hands gripped the frozen seat so hard my knuckles cracked. Then, he crept from behind one of the pines, one half of his golden face nailing me to the bench until he showed the rest of it. A black overcoat rested over his black collared shirt and black jeans. His black boots were coated in fresh snow. As his lips flattened, the dimples in his cheeks sank--and so did my grief.
Just as I'd seen him on the first day of school, he somehow kept his color despite the muted greys and whites of the iced courtyard. He also walked with an air of authority, his shoulders drawn back and chin raised like he'd earned the right. But when he regarded me, that haughty chin fell a fraction and his brows knit in concern.
And in that moment, I wondered if I simply attracted pity.
"Were you just going to watch?" I asked, bitterness biting into him just as much as the cold.
He rubbed the back of his head, dark eyes tilting to the sky. Except, they weren't dark. They were gold. The color I imagined the sun to be if it didn't shine so much. "It's my job to watch," he said, adding a pause at the end where my name was supposed to go. I wasn't giving him that.
"That doesn't sound any better."
"Then you describe my job for me," he said, his gloved hands sliding into his pockets. This time, he raised his brows with an extra beat to his sentence.
"Melissa," I admitted. "If you're referring to what I said to you a few days ago, I wasn't trying to tell you how to do your job. But it would be really nice to know I didn't embarrass myself with you watching twice."
Namjoon shrugged. "You're just crying. Is that what you're upset about?"
Just crying. Wetting my face with tears when others were able to carry on. I gave him a look that asked him how he could possibly minimize it. When he didn't even react, I resorted to covering my face instead. "I'm sure it's obvious."
"It is," he said, his long stride helping him close our distance. Soon enough, he towered over me, his gaze far too intense in our silence when he looked down on me. But I finally got fed up with trying not to squirm, not to let my eyes get any puffier, not to meet his gaze, I decided to stare at his shoes instead. He didn't have to care about me being alone when danger wasn't present. He could have kept walking on his patrol. He should have, actually. This wasn't any of his concern.
"Then what are you doing?"
"Honestly," he began, his sigh forming a white cloud and his eyes analyzing the castle behind, "I'm not sure." His attention landed on me once more. "But it's on my mind to tell you something, if that's alright with you?"
In any other instance, it would have been a no. But I paused, facing the vorvian that I somehow deep down felt like owed me something. "Sure."
"I think many dhampir are taught to disregard their humanity too soon. Nothing against this school, because it happens everywhere. You're only human for once in your entire life, and you're supposed to act like you don't feel anything. But even when you lose that, the best immortals I've seen and have ever worked with were true to their natures."
When he spoke, his voice and his words knocked on the part of me that clutched control to my chest. His wisdom was too large for my short-lived lifespan. He told me the logic of centuries.
"The heroes were the ones that weren't afraid to cry. Because they stood for something more than themselves. They lived life to the fullest, and drank every drop of what it offered. That might not make you feel better, but it's something."
I didn't know what to say. Not very often were you cracked open and able to hear something that sewed the torn edges together again. Swallowing, I nodded as it sank into my bones. "Thank you."
His small smile was distant, lost in his own head. "I'm Namjoon, by the way."
"I know."
A gloved hand pointed at my cape. "You're Ivory Table?"
I shrugged. "I'm really just Melissa."
His nod was so understanding that I softened a fraction further. Still, I said, "You're a legendary hunter too, right?"
"Since I'm here, just Namjoon works," he quipped. Those dimples reappeared as he became present with me again. "I'll also ignore the fact that you skipped your classes today. As I don't find that to be part of my job either."
"It's not." When I smiled, a flicker of normalcy returned. The comfort of control. It shimmied off my shoulders as I stood and dusted off my skirt. "Neither is stopping for me."
He scratched his chin. "Really? I thought you weren't going to tell me how to do my job."
"Fine." I tilted my head up in defiance. "Just do it right." Without another word, I walked past him, my toes growing frigid through my shoes as I sank into snow.
"Sure, Melissa."
When I peered over my shoulder, there was only snow and the bench. A wintry quiet. I shook my head and journeyed back to my dorm, a bit less embarrassed than I'd been an hour ago. But that didn't scrape today's revelation.
Yes, it was alright to feel when the full collection of emotions were still in my arsenal.
No, that did not mean I had to coddle and tend to them each time they blew me over into the wind.
I was a poor example of an Ivory Table member. Pushing into the realm of calling me a hero was lying even further. It was just as acceptable to be honest on those fronts as well. As I made it to my door, I fingered the diamonds that rested on my collarbone too. I could steal any necklace I wanted or answer any dare and it would never buy my time in the woods back this winter. My friends were dead and so was my courage.
In fact, I shouldn't have worn it in the first place.
I slipped into my dorm, my eyes squinted shut as I leaned against my closed door. If I had tears left, I'd use them. But since I didn't, I could only sigh and blindly find the clasp with my fingers.
"Wait."
My eyes shot open, the sensation of a hundred needles pricking my back. A shadow, tall and lean, resonant of the deep sensual voice, stood at my window. But he blended into the aged archway and design as a creature of another time, his long, dark brown curls almost grazing his long lashes.
"Please, just wait."
His smile spread from ear to ear, dangerously slow, mystifying--and fanged.
"Finally."
✥ • • • • • ✥
(A/N) Sweet student,
Surprise, surprise.
Thank you for reading! I can't tell you enough how excited I've been to finally get here.
Also, your notes on the last chapter were heartwarming. Incredibly so. Thank you for wading through first person with me. Thank you for being willing to share your thoughts. You guys are ANGELS. And UGH I've got such a story for you in this. ❤️ I hope you stay!
Have a blessed week ahead. Talk to you again soon.
Next release: 6/25, June 25th
With love,
Milan