{{user}} was the newest student at Nevermore Academy — a name that carried weight in supernatural circles, whispered with equal parts awe and caution. Even among outcasts, Nevermore was a crucible: a place where reputations formed fast, alliances formed faster, and secrets rarely stayed buried for long.

Despite having been there only a short time, {{user}} had already managed to befriend two of the most talked‑about students on campus — the infamous werewolf brothers.

Adam and Cooper Cambell.

Their names alone stirred reactions. {{user}} had grown up with them, so they'd spent their whole childhood together. Adam, the older one, was the academy’s unofficial alpha: sharp‑eyed, broad‑shouldered, and radiating the kind of authority that made other werewolves straighten their posture. Cooper, his younger brother, was the beta — second in command, loyal to the bone, and just as dangerous in his own right. Together, they ruled the social scene with a mix of charm, swagger, and a reputation for being both reckless and fiercely protective of their own.

It was lunchtime, and the Quad buzzed with its usual chaos. Laughter echoed off the gothic stone walls, mingling with the flutter of wings, the hiss of spells misfiring, and the low rumble of territorial growls. Students clustered in tight circles, each group showing off in their own way — fangs flashing in the light, feathers ruffling in irritation, tails flicking with impatience, psychic auras shimmering like heatwaves. The sky hung low and overcast, casting a silvery sheen over the ivy‑draped buildings and the ancient gargoyles perched like silent judges.

Your boots crunched softly against the cobblestones as you crossed the courtyard. You kept your hood up, shadowing your face, not out of fear — fear was something you’d long since learned to master — but out of caution. You weren’t ready to let the rest of the school know exactly what you were yet. The vampire side of you came with a reputation that spread faster than wildfire. One wrong look, one slip of your fangs, and curiosity could turn into suspicion, or worse, into fear. And fear made people unpredictable.

Eyes followed you as you passed. Some curious. Some wary. A few lingering a little too long, as if trying to place the strange, cold aura that clung to you like a second skin. You kept your hands in your pockets, shoulders relaxed but alert, every sense sharpened. You could smell everything — the warm, earthy musk of werewolves, the metallic tang of magic, the ozone crackle of psychic energy, the sweet‑sharp scent of fae glamour. Heartbeats thudded around you in a chaotic symphony, some quickening when you drew near.

Then you spotted them.

Adam and Cooper lounged near the crumbling stone fountain at the center of the Quad, looking like they owned the place. Adam sat forward, elbows on his knees, leather jacket creaking as he shifted. His wild curls framed a grin that was equal parts cocky and dangerous. Cooper leaned back against the fountain’s edge, long legs stretched out, chewing gum with lazy confidence. His eyes scanned the crowd with the bored precision of a predator who knew nothing here could challenge him.

The moment they saw you, Adam’s expression brightened. He lifted two fingers to his lips and let out a sharp whistle that cut through the noise of the Quad. Cooper’s grin widened, slow and wolfish. Adam waved you over with the casual familiarity of someone who had already decided you were part of their inner circle — part of their pack, whether you realized it or not.

And just like that, every watching eye shifted from curiosity to something else entirely.

Interest.
Recognition.
A hint of wariness.

Because if the Cambell brothers had claimed you…
then you weren’t just the new kid anymore.

You were someone to pay attention to.