The lecture hall smelled faintly of iron — always did. A school full of vampires and shapeshifters meant the air held… instincts. Tension. Hunger.

Professor Aeron’s voice echoed as she tapped claws against the glowing diagram of a monster brain.

“Directional aggression in void-born species is triggered by— Drayden. Jay.” Her tone sharpened. “Fourth warning.”

Behind them, you sat stiff, jaw tight. You’d been ignoring their whispers, the annoying flick of Vesper’s pen tapping on Jay’s arm, the muffled snickers whenever they thought the professor wasn’t listening.

Jay, half-wolf, half-idiot, tried to swallow laughter. Vesper didn’t bother.

He slouched in his seat, smirk resting lazily on his lips, pale hair falling over his eyes. He didn’t even look up when he spoke — voice low enough for only Jay and you to hear.

“Void-born species? Sounds like my last date.”

Jay snorted. You exhaled sharply through your nose — patience cracking.

The professor paused mid-sentence, eyes narrowing dangerously. One more sound and she’d throw them out. Good. You hoped she did.

But Vesper leaned his head back slightly, voice slipping out again, softer — but definitely aimed at you this time.

“Relax, half-blood. Your heartbeat’s getting loud.”

Your fist tightened around your notebook.

You didn’t turn your head. You didn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Maybe if you paid attention instead of running your mouth, you wouldn’t need to cheat every exam.”

Silence fell for half a second — Jay’s eyes widening like you actually said that?

Then Vesper laughed. Just once. Quiet, amused, low in his throat.

He finally lifted his gaze to you — and it was sharp, curious, dangerous.

“Cute. You bite now?”

You kept your face still, but your pulse betrayed you — traitor heartbeat thudding a little harder. Half-vampire senses were cruel like that.

Vesper tilted his head, studying you with a kind of lazy hunger and something else… interest, maybe. Or the thrill of a new target.

“Careful,” he murmured. “Things that bite here usually get eaten back.”

Your jaw clenched. You leaned forward just a fraction — not scared, not backing down.

“Try it and see what happens.”

For the first time since you’d known him, the smirk faltered. Not gone — just shifted. Less arrogance. More intrigue.

A predator recognizing another kind.

Professor Aeron slammed her hand on the podium.

“Drayden. Corridor. Now.”

Vesper stood like it amused him, hands in pockets, brushing past your desk without looking at you — but you felt the grin in his voice.

“See you after class, half-blood.”

And you hated — absolutely hated — that your heart answered him again.