10
Lucien.
If anyone asked, I'd say I didn't care. About humans, about the Elowen boy, about the games the rest of them seemed to love playing. And for most of my life, that was true. Indifference was easy. Detachment was safer. It was how my father raised me: observe everything, feel nothing, let nothing get close enough to hurt you.
But then Adrian Elowen arrived, and my peace was ruined.
From the beginning, there was something off about him. I noticed before anyone else did, but kept it to myself. He was too quiet, too careful, his gaze always calculating, his movements just slightly wrong for a noble's son, especially one thrown into a place like Umbra Noctis. He watched people, like he was learning the rules of a game he didn't want to play. He reminded me of prey, but not the kind that runs and screams. The kind that waits for an opening, or dies with its eyes open.
It annoyed me, more than I wanted to admit. I'd spent years perfecting distance. I'd learned not to let anyone under my skin. And now, every time I looked at Elowen, I felt that armor slipping.
At first, I told myself it was just curiosity. I don't like puzzles I can't solve. Adrian wasn't just a puzzle; he was a locked box with the key hidden somewhere dangerous. Kael was the first to get obsessed, hovering like a wolf around something he wanted to break or keep, I could never tell which. Rowan circled, always laughing, always knowing more than he let on. Elias, neutral as a ghost, seemed to be watching too, but even he kept his distance. The whole dorm felt off-balance. Because of one human.
I should have ignored it. I tried. I kept my words clipped and my eyes cold. I corrected Adrian in training, not because I cared if he improved, but because watching him flail was somehow more painful than it should've been. When he landed a hit, it was always by accident, and I always made sure he knew it. But the thing was, he kept getting up. No matter how hard Kael knocked him down, no matter how sharp my words, he just stood, dusted himself off, and tried again.
That stubbornness gnawed at me. Most humans here broke in days. The ones who didn't usually hid behind alliances, begged for protection, or slipped away in the night. Adrian did none of that. He made no deals, asked for no help. Even when the bullying from the others escalated; girls teasing him for his looks, boys getting violent, he just bore it. He had a way of shrinking into himself and surviving, quietly, stubbornly. I found myself searching for cracks, for signs of weakness, but I always ended up frustrated.
It wasn't just about him, though. It was about what he did to me. I started noticing too much; the way his jaw clenched when he was insulted, the way his hands trembled after a hard fall, the way his eyes sometimes darted to the windows as if he was searching for escape. I should have felt superior. Instead, I felt unsettled.
Some mornings, I'd wake and find myself listening for his footsteps, for the soft sounds of him getting ready. I watched the way Kael hovered, the way Rowan slipped him little gifts, the way Elias always seemed to know when Adrian was about to get hurt. I hated how much I noticed. I hated that I cared at all.
After a while, my irritation turned into a kind of fixation. I watched Adrian in class, in the yard, in the corridors. I catalogued every bruise, every flinch, every brief smile. I noticed when he stopped eating, when he started staying up later, when his laughter sounded strained. It became a habit, then a compulsion.
And then I started making mistakes.
A few times, I caught myself almost defending him; cutting off a particularly cruel comment from a vampire girl, or glaring down a pair of wolf boys who thought a little roughhousing would go unnoticed. I kept it subtle, but the impulse was there, clawing at me. I told myself I was protecting the dorm's reputation, not Adrian. But I knew it was a lie.
The worst part was the confusion. I didn't know if I wanted to see him break or see him survive. Some days, I resented the attention he drew from everyone else; Kael's possessiveness, Rowan's fascination, even Mira's gentle loyalty. Other days, I wanted to be the only one who noticed the truth.
What was the truth, anyway? That Adrian Elowen was a fraud? I knew it, or at least suspected it. There was nothing truly human about the way he moved, nothing noble about the way he flinched from praise. But I couldn't name what he was hiding. I just knew that every time I tried to look away, I failed.
Training made it worse. Today was no different. The yard was wet with rain, the sky bruised with clouds. Kael was in a foul mood, so his hits came harder. I watched as Adrian dodged, stumbled, hit the ground again and again. He never complained, never asked for mercy.
"Up," I snapped, when he lay too long on the stones. He dragged himself up, eyes flashing just for a second. Not anger. Something brighter.
I hated how that made me feel.
After practice, the others drifted off, Kael muttering about dinner, Rowan whistling something out of tune. Adrian lingered, slow to gather his things. I waited, telling myself I just needed to return a book. But when he finally turned to leave, I blocked his path.
"Not running off, are you?" I said, voice low.
He stiffened, meeting my eyes. "Do you need something, Lucien?"
There was a crack in his tone. He was tired, maybe a little angry. Good. At least I could work with anger.
I moved closer, letting the tension stretch between us. "You're getting sloppy. I thought you'd have learned by now."
He didn't flinch. "Maybe I'm just tired of being your punching bag."
I almost smiled. Almost. "If you can't keep up, maybe you should go home. Umbra Noctis isn't for the weak."
His jaw tightened. "Then why are you still here?"
I felt the sting of it; a challenge, and for a second, I almost admired him for it.
I stepped even closer, lowering my voice so only he could hear. "You think surviving is enough? It's not. Sooner or later, someone will figure out what you are. And when they do, Kael won't be able to save you. Rowan won't care. The rest will watch you burn."
His expression didn't change, but something flickered behind his eyes. Fear? Or understanding?
"Is that a threat?" he asked, steady.
"No," I said quietly. "It's a warning. There's a difference."
He looked at me for a long moment, searching for something in my face. "Why do you care?"
The question caught me off guard. I didn't have an answer. At least not one I was willing to say out loud. I cared because I shouldn't. I cared because he mattered in a way that made no sense. I cared because, for all my effort, I couldn't stop.
Instead, I said, "I don't."
He shook his head, lips twisting into a smile that was almost sad. "You're a terrible liar, Lucien."
I felt my jaw clench. "Just stay out of trouble, Elowen. You make the whole dorm look weak."
He nodded, gathering his things. As he brushed past me, his shoulder bumped mine deliberate, and defiantly. I watched him walk away, every instinct screaming at me to let it go.
But I knew I wouldn't. I never let things go.