The air within the dining hall of Elysium Academy was thick with the scent of pine, damp earth, and something metallic, the characteristic musk of royal-blooded shifters and the cool, powdery scent of vampire aristocracy.
Lyrana, the only water nymph at the school, clutched her worn, leather-bound textbook and tried, as always, to occupy the negative space of the room. She was an anomaly in this land of ancient royal houses, and her silver-dusted skin was a beacon for cruelty.
A familiar, sneering voice cut through the clamor.
"Look, the fish is trying to read."
Lyrana didn't need to look up to know it was Gareth, a mid-level wolf heir, flanked by his usual sycophants.
"It's a textbook, Gareth. Required reading," Lyrana stated, her voice quiet but firm, keeping her eyes fixed on the page.
"Oh, required reading for what? Swimming lessons?" He laughed, and his companions joined in.
One of the siren cousins, Rhea, whose voice held an unnatural, hypnotic lilt, stepped forward. "Tell us, Lyrana, do your books teach you how to remove that awful swamp smell? It's genuinely offensive to the superior nostrils here."
Lyrana finally looked up, her expression strained. "I have no control over my natural scent, Rhea. Just as you have no control over your natural pettiness."
Gareth's eyes narrowed at the mild insult. His mood turned colder, and he decided to escalate. He snatched the book from her hands, holding it high.
"Insolence from the bottom feeders," he sneered. "Let's see the treaties, little fish." He made a show of examining the leather cover. "We should use this to wipe the gymnasium floor. It's probably been floating in a sewer anyway."
Lyrana stood quickly. "Give it back, Gareth! That's a gift!"
He simply dropped the heavy volume into a nearby tray of cooling, oily gravy, where it immediately began to absorb the liquid.
A sharp gasp went around the few nearby tables. Even for Elysium, this was a line crossed.
Lyrana's hands clenched into tight fists at her sides, and the burning humiliation was almost enough to make her silver scales flash in anger. "You…"
Before she could finish the useless threat, a new, massive presence descended upon them. The laughter instantly died.
The temperature didn't just drop; it plummeted, as if a great, cold shadow had swept across the sun.
Kael.
He was a physical force, a wall of pure Alpha dominance that made every shifter in the room, including Gareth, cower instinctively. His golden eyes, the color of ancient molten metal, were currently fixed on Gareth with supreme annoyance.
"You're occupying too much air, pup," Kael's voice was a low, devastating rumble that resonated with authority. "Get out of my way."
Gareth's bravado dissolved into a pathetic whimper. "A-Alpha Kael, I didn't see you…"
"I don't care," Kael cut him off, taking one slow, purposeful step. "Move. Now."
Gareth practically dove to the side, dragging the siren cousins with him as they fled the dining hall.
The silence that followed was absolute. Kael stood over the ruined book, his dark, powerful energy dominating Lyrana. He hadn't saved her; he had merely exercised his right to command the room.
Finally, his eyes dropped to Lyrana. He didn't look at her with compassion, or even much interest, just cold, critical appraisal.
"Clean that up, Nymph," he commanded, his voice barely a breath, but loaded with absolute authority.
"And stop inviting conflict. Your pathetic helplessness is distracting."
Lyrana felt the sting of tears, not from fear of him, but from the brutal dismissal of her dignity. "I didn't invite anything," she whispered, her voice tight with suppressed rage.
Kael took a step closer, bending his tall frame to meet her eyes, his intense Alpha scent overwhelming her senses.
"You exist here, Lyrana. That is invitation enough," he stated, his face utterly impassive. "But I won't have the lesser creatures wasting my time. You are my distraction now. I decide when you break."
He straightened up and stalked out, his powerful strides shaking the floor. Lyrana was left alone, reeling from the raw threat.
Lyrana spent the next hour cleaning up the mess and trying to salvage the ruined book. As she finally headed to her next class, Cross-Species Political Ethics, she found herself dreading the mandatory group assignments.
She was ten minutes late, sliding into a chair just as the professor finished announcing the topic: The Ethical Treatment of Low-Magic Creatures in Royal Territories.
"Now," the elderly Fae professor announced, "I have pre-assigned your groups to ensure maximum cross-species dialogue."
Lyrana's stomach turned as the professor read the pairings. Her name came last.
"Group Four: Miss Lyrana Aquamarine, Miss Seraphina Volkov, and Miss Veridia Volkov."
Lyrana slumped. The Volkovs. The Vampire Twins. Seraphina and Veridia were the epitome of frigid, flawless elegance.
They were heirs to a powerful European coven, known for their cold cruelty and utter disdain for any being whose blood didn't run ancient and blue.
The twins were already seated at a table, their black silk dresses catching the light, their perfect bone structure radiating boredom. They didn't so much as glance at Lyrana as she approached.
"Lyrana, I assume?" Seraphina asked, her voice like cracking ice.
"Yes," Lyrana replied, sitting down opposite them.
Veridia tapped a long, manicured finger on the assignment sheet. "The topic is tediously beneath us. We will need a perfect score to negate the damage of being paired with… lesser students."
"Here is the allocation of work," Seraphina continued, without preamble. "Veridia and I will handle the presentation. Our accents, our command of rhetoric, and our very presence are crucial for maximum impact. We will not be wasting our time researching something we already know."
"You, however," Veridia said, finally looking at Lyrana with a look of undisguised contempt, "will handle all research, source aggregation, citation formatting, and the initial ten-page draft. You will have the draft completed and submitted to us for review by tomorrow evening. Do you understand?"
Lyrana stared at the sheer volume of work they had dumped on her. "Tomorrow evening? That's almost the entire project."
"Did we stutter?" Seraphina lifted a thin, perfectly sculpted eyebrow.
"We are Volkovs, Lyrana. We don't do grunt work. This is your price for contaminating our group. If the final score is anything less than an A-plus, we will ensure the professor understands who dragged down the grade."
They dismissed her with a collective sigh and began discussing an upcoming coven ball, leaving Lyrana alone with the entire research burden. She knew she had no choice but to accept it. Their reputation was as dangerous as Kael's, just colder.
As Lyrana gathered her notes, preparing for an all-night research session, she felt a burning sensation on the back of her neck.
She risked a glance across the room.
Kael was seated with his pack at a large table, ostensibly reviewing combat strategy notes.
He wasn't looking at her. He was looking at the Volkov Twins, a faint, predatory smirk on his face, as if he knew exactly what had just transpired and found it highly amusing.
He was the hunter, the Volkovs were the executioners, and Lyrana was the doomed middle ground.