Bella
My heart raced. My breath caught in my throat.
The world slowed down, like it was deliberately keeping his feet from moving fast enough. He was running, desperate, but it felt like slow motion.
His assailant, on the other hand, moved with terrifying ease.
Tall. Pale. Faceless.
Black hair trailed behind him, and strange tattoos stretched across his back. He turned slightly, as if sensing me. No eyes, no mouth, no face… but somehow, I knew he saw me.
Then it happened.
In the blink of an eye, he caught up to him—my father.
One swift swipe of his claws tore through his neck.
My father's body jerked. Blood sprayed.
Then came the drinking.
I stood frozen, rooted in place as the awful sound of choking filled the air. My father's blood gurgled from his throat. His blue eyes rolled back until only white remained. His skin turned gray. Then ashen. Then hollow.
It didn't stop.
It drank until there was nothing left but skin and bones.
Then it dropped him and turned toward me.
Slow. Deliberate. Each step was heavier than the last, yet it made no sound.
It felt like it was giving me time to run.
I didn't.
My legs wouldn't move. My body already knew it wouldn't matter.
Now it stood in front of me, towering. Blood-soaked. Faceless. Still.
"See you soon."
The voice was thin and far away, like a whisper from the bottom of a well. It didn't belong in this world.
My eyes widened, not in fear, but in shock.
It had never spoken before.
Ice slid through my chest. My heart stuttered. The air left my lungs, and when I gasped for more, I woke.
I shot upright, still fighting for breath like my head was underwater. The low hum of engines pressed against my eardrums. Stale, recycled air scratched my throat. A thin blanket slid off my lap. Rows of heads bobbed in sleep around me, shadows and seatbacks and quiet snores. For a second, I didn't remember where I was. The nightmare clung to me like a wet cloth.
A soft chime cut through the fog.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we'll be landing in Raventon shortly."
My stomach lurched. Right. Raventon.
The most prestigious private school in the country. Somehow, I got in. Brains, not connections. A miracle people like my uncle said, didn't happen.
I could still see the day the email came. Aunt Rebecca cried and laughed at the same time. Her husband cracked open a beer at nine in the morning and looked at me over the rim.
"You'd better focus on your studies and avoid boys above your class," he said, beer foam on his lip. "They might call you pretty, but you're average. Don't go turning into a whore—"
"Benson!" Aunt Rebecca snapped, snatching the bottle from him. She stood there in her nursing scrubs, eyes flashing. "Don't talk to Bella like that. She's the most responsible person in this house."
Uncle Ben shrugged. "Did I lie? She looks gullible. If I don't warn her, she'll be spreading her legs in a week."
"She isn't you, Ben," my aunt shot back, voice tight.
Their daughter, my best friend, watched from the couch and said nothing. She was mad at me for choosing a different school. I didn't want to go to Raventon without her, but only one of us got in. Only one person in our entire region was accepted. Me.
Back on the plane, I pushed my glasses down from my hair to my nose and looked at the window. Cloud. Sky. My reflection staring back, neat bun, plain face. Not the prettiest flower in the garden. I wouldn't stand out there. Good. I didn't want to. I was going for what Raventon could give me, not what it could make me.
We landed. No one around me tried to talk. It wasn't that I was too shy. Everyone was too proud, too careful, like words were expensive and they were saving them for someone important. Twenty of us on this transfer, either top of the class or born into the kind of family people googled.
The bus from the airstrip jolted as its tires hit cobblestone. I pressed my forehead to the cool window, breathing slowly so my stomach wouldn't flip. Outside, the world grew quieter. Darker. The farther we drove, the heavier the silence felt.
The gates rose out of the mist before us, iron and black as ink. Twisted metal curled into letters that spelled RAVENTON, but if you blinked, the curves looked like mouths and claws. When the driver slowed, the gates creaked open on their own. The sound scraped down my back like a warning.
My throat tightened. This didn't feel like arriving at a school. It felt like walking into the mouth of a whale.
We rolled to a stop at the main steps. My first look at them: the elites. A line of students waited by the stairs, uniforms perfect, spines straight. Some were pale in that way you only see in old paintings. None fidgeted. None whispered. They just watched. Judges waiting for a verdict.
The bus door hissed open. Cold air rushed in and slid under my clothes. I grabbed the single bag we were allowed to carry and stepped down. The cobblestones were slick under my shoes.
Dozens of eyes fixed on me. Most were cold. A few felt… wrong. Too still. Too curious.Almost inhuman.
The students on the stairs didn't move. Their positions looked rehearsed, like they had practised this welcome a thousand times. I lifted my chin and walked, even though my heart beat too hard and too fast.
Then I saw him.
One pair of eyes cut through the fog like steel. Dark. Unyielding. Too knowing. They locked on to me as if I were the only person in the courtyard.
Heat flashed across my chest, sudden and searing. I sucked in a breath and grabbed my side. Something under my skin clawed to get out. My vision tilted.
A shape formed in the mist—not a shadow. A wolf. Massive. Its eyes were mismatched: one silver, one deep, warm brown like cognac in a glass. It stepped toward me, silent.
I should have been afraid. I wasn't.
My breath snagged. The courtyard blurred. The world tipped and fell into darkness.