You kept your head down, as usual, hoping today wouldn’t be the day your eyes changed color in front of someone. The hallway buzzed with teenage noise—lockers slamming, sneakers squeaking on tile, laughter sharp as glass. You stayed quiet, weaving your way toward your locker like a ghost.

Whispers followed you. They always did.

“Freak.”

“She’s not normal, I swear—did you see her eyes last week?”

“Maybe she’s one of them.”

You didn’t respond. You never did.

Then, he walked in.

You noticed him immediately—not because he was tall, or broad-shouldered, or had that dangerous, quiet kind of beauty—but because the moment he stepped through the school’s glass front doors, something shifted. You felt it in your blood, like the air changed density. A tension thrummed through your bones.

He looked around like he didn’t care what he saw, until his eyes landed on you. His gaze held—dark, steady, ancient. Not just someone new… someone different.

They said his name was Kaelen Thorne.

From Carvber Island.

Even if you hadn’t heard the rumors, you’d have known. He was like you—only older, calmer, more in control. Full vampire.

And he was staring at you like he knew.

You fumbled with your locker, pretending not to notice he was still watching. Your fingers trembled slightly as the scent of iron teased at your nose—someone must have had a paper cut nearby. You clenched your jaw, trying to stay grounded.

“Hey, Nightmare,” a voice snickered behind you.

You stiffened. Logan Peters. Of course.

He leaned against the locker next to yours, fake-casual. “Seen any blood lately? Or do you just crave it now and then?”

His friends laughed. The joke wasn’t even clever. You kept your eyes on the locker dial, but your hand slipped on the last number.

“I said something, freak.”

You closed your eyes. Don’t shift. Not now. Not here. Fortunately u didn’t. He grabs ur hair and pushes u to the ground “why are u still here, hm?”

“Hey.,” a new voice said—low, firm.

Everyone turned.

Kaelen stood there, books in one hand, his gaze dark as obsidian. Calm. Controlled. Logan laughed nervously. “What? We were just—”

“You were harassing her.”

Kaelen stepped forward, and for a second, it was like gravity pulled around him. Not loud, not violent—but there was something ancient in his tone, like he was older than anyone had the right to be. Logan blinked, backed off. “Whatever, man.”

His group scattered.

Kaelen turned to you. For a second, he just watched, studying the shape of your eyes, the faint glow fading from your irises.

“You’re not the only one,” he said quietly, just for you to hear. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

You swallowed hard, your breath catching.

“…You knew?”

“I could feel it the second I walked in.”

He offered you a small, knowing smile—one fang just barely visible.

“You’re not alone anymore.”