Isolde sat quietly inside her classroom going through her notes when the class head, Zane by name, walked up to her desk.
"Isolde, the homeroom teacher wants to see you in her office. Now." Zane said with a strong voice as if annoyed but Isolde cared less of her opinion about her.
"Me?" Isolde asked, pointing at herself in disbelief. She just started school what business could she have with the principal, she kinda wondered if something had gone wrong.
"Yes," Zane replied. " follow me."
She turned and walks out of the class, with Isolde trailing behind her trying to meet her fast pace.
After knocking and receiving permission, the two girls stepped into the teachers' office in unison.
"Zane, you can return to your class," the homeroom teacher dismissed her.
Zane nodded and left the office quietly.
"Isolde Vayn," Mrs. Romanda called gently.
Isolde stepped closer to her.
"I've been going through your academic records from your previous school," Mrs. Romanda said, adjusting her glasses. "You've been a very impressive student, so I wanted to ask if you'd like to apply for—"
Before she could finish her sentence, a deep, authoritative voice interrupted her.
"May I speak with the homeroom teacher of Class 6A?"
The man who spoke just now was tall, broad-shouldered, and strikingly handsome. His sharp features were impossible to overlook.
Isolde's eyes drifted toward him. He stood beside the table, calm and confident. From his presence alone, it was clear he wasn't just anyone. He wasn't someone to mess with.
Sensing her gaze on him, he man looked up.
Their eyes met—just for a brief moment.
"Mr. Dylan," Ms. Rita, the 6A homeroom teacher, called as she approached him.
After taking a good look at her he looked away from her, and turned toward the woman now standing in front of him with a smile.
"Ms. Rita. Dylan said in confirmation.
"This way," Ms. Rita said, leading him aside.
Isolde was forced to tear her gaze away as he walked past her.
"Ms. Isolde Vayn," Mrs. Romanda called, pulling her back to reality.
" I said I was wondering if you would like to represent our school in the upcoming school competition. I know your finals are coming up and you are busy, but after the competition if you are able to come out with 1st place, your entrance exam will be covered and you will be able to make your choice of university. Mrs. Romanda explained.
" I will think about that. Isolde said and Mrs Romanda nodded.
After their discussion, Isolde excused herself and left the teachers office, walking down the hall way. It was already break period and students were already outside of the classroom catching up with friends.
Inside Class 6A, Amanda burst through the door, rushing toward May.
May was seated at her desk, calmly putting on her lipstick, when Amanda interrupted her.
"Why are you running like someone who just picked up a coin from the floor?" Berry, May's handbag, mocked. The class erupted into loud laughter.
"I saw your uncle," Amanda blurted out.
May froze. Her uncle had never visited her school personally—he always sent his assistant.
"Are you sure about that Amanda? Berry snapped.
We all here knows that May's uncle have never visited our school throughout our days in this school, so how could he possibly come now. You shouldn't be lieing like that just to get on May's good side. Berry said annoyed.
" Yeah. That's true _ one of the student present agreed with Amanda.
And by the way how could she know Mr Joans in person. Another student said.
"But I clearly heard our home room teacher calling him Mr Joans in the teachers office. Amanda insisted on her claim.
Just as everyone was still contemplating Ms.Rita entered the class.
"Ms Joans aren't you going to see your uncle? Ms. Rita asked.
With that May cursed under her breath and rushed outside.
On the school field, May stood before her uncle with her head low.
"There are better ways to handle situations, May," Dylan said, rubbing his temples, clearly not happy.
"I'm sorry, Uncle," May apologized, making a cute, innocent face. She clung to him, continuing to beg softly.
Students nearby whispered among themselves.
"May's uncle is so handsome," a student said in awe.
"Tell me about it," another replied. "I'm so jealous of her, not everyone get to have a handsome uncle like that."
Upstairs, Isolde stood by the railing, silently staring down at the scene happening below.
Something about the man unsettled her.
And somehow… intrigued her.
"Isolde." Jace called as he walks up to her.
Isolde tore her gaze away from the view below her and looked at the guy standing before her.
For a brief second, Jace forgot what he wanted to say. The wind lifted a strand of her hair, and the way the fading light touched her face made his chest tighten.
"I was wondering… if you'd be free this weekend," he finally said, rubbing the back of his neck.
"No."
Isolde answered firmly.
She was a vampire—not a human. Her royal blood gave her control, yes, but control could fail. One mistake, one lost moment, and her identity will be discovered.
Jace blinked, masking the disappointment that flashed too quickly across his face. He nodded once, forcing a small smile.
"Oh… okay. Yeah, that's fine."
But it wasn't.
He shifted his weight, hesitating, as if debating whether to walk away. Then, quietly, almost carefully, he spoke again.
"Can I… come around instead?"
"You mean…?" Isolde asked.
"To your place," he said quickly. "Nothing serious. Just—friends visiting friends, something like that. Jace said.
His eyes searched her face—not desperate, not pushy—but hopeful.
Could he be any different? Isolde wondered.
Her mind drifted to the night before.
"Isolde."
The voice sliced through her sleep like a whisper wrapped in thunder.
She had opened her eyes and rose, drawn toward the balcony as if she was being summoned.
The Seer stood there, cloaked in shadows, her presence bending the air itself.
"The Wise One," Isolde greeted.
"Why are you confused, my princess?" the Seer asked me. "Why does your heart waver when your mission remains unfinished?"
Isolde lowered her head.
"I have been sent into this mortal realm to seek a key I have never seen, never touched, or know anything about. How am I to find what I do not know?" she asked.
The Seer stepped closer, her eyes glowing faintly in the dark.
"The key does not rest in stone nor steel," she said. "It breathes. It walks. It bleeds."
Isolde's breath caught.
"It will stand before you," the Seer continued. "But to claim it, you must master and know how to control it, else it will burn you.
"find the man who bears the mark of the cursed moon." The seer said.
"The cursed moon…" Isolde whispered.
"Yes," the Seer replied, her voice turning grim.
"He is bound by blood and shadow. Feared by fate. Desired by darkness."
She paused.
"And he is your mate."
Isolde's eyes widened. "Wait— your words are confusing wise one".
But the Seer was already fading.
"The moon bleeds" her voice echoed.
"Find him, and save the world.
Lose him… and the realms will fall."
"Wait!" Isolde cried.
The balcony fell silent.
Back in the present, Isolde looks at Jace standing before her expectant.
He was still waiting.
Not impatient. Not annoyed.
Just… there.
Her resolve wavered.
"Okay," she said softly. "Fine. This weekend. Let's hang out."
For a moment, Jace simply stared at her, as if he needed to be sure he heard her correctly.
Then his lips curved into a smile so genuine it made her heart stumble.
"Really?"
She nodded.
He laughed under his breath, relief and joy mingling in his eyes before he pulled her into a brief, instinctive hug—warm, careful. As if realizing his mistake he quickly pulled away but the joy didn't leave his face.
Below the building, a man looked up, his eyes gleaming beneath the shadow of the rising moon—as though he sensed something ancient stirring.