The evening sun cast long shadows over Lieta's bedroom as she slumped against her pillow, her stomach still churning from the garlic she'd forced down at lunch. The metallic tang of blood lingered in her mouth, a bitter reminder of her weakness. She clutched the empty vial in her hand, turning it over as her mother's warning echoed in her mind.
"You must be more careful, Lieta. One slip, and they'll never see you as human."
She sighed, tossing the vial onto her nightstand. Tomorrow, she'd have to visit the blood bank before school. The thought made her uneasy—what if someone saw her? What if they asked questions?
Pulling the covers over herself, she closed her eyes, willing sleep to take her. But the moment she drifted off, the dreams came again—the garden, the flowers, and that intoxicating scent. Sweet. Warm. Alive.
*Feriole's blood.*
She shot up in bed, gasping. Her fangs ached, pressing against her lower lip.
*No. Not again.*
---
Morning Tension
The next morning, Lieta arrived at school early, her hood pulled tight against the pale dawn light. The school gates loomed ahead, and she hesitated, her fingers tightening around the strap of her bag. Inside, the blood pouch she had retrieved before leaving home sat hidden beneath her books, a fragile lifeline.
As she slipped into her seat, the classroom was still mostly empty. She exhaled, allowing herself a moment of relief—until the chair beside her scraped against the floor.
"You left this on the train."
Feriole stood beside her desk, holding out her music book. His fingers brushed against hers as she took it, and she flinched at the warmth of his skin. Her throat burned.
"Th-thank you," she stammered, quickly tucking the book into her bag.
He lingered, his dark eyes studying her. "You play the piano?"
She swallowed hard. "Just… a hobby."
He tilted his head, flipping through the pages she had left behind. "These compositions… they're intense. Almost like they were written in a frenzy."
Lieta's pulse spiked. The music had been her way of coping—of pouring out the hunger, the fear, the loneliness into something beautiful. But if he sensed the truth behind the notes…
"Maybe you could play for me sometime," he said, sliding into the seat next to hers.
Her nails dug into her palms. *Focus. Breathe.* But breathing only made it worse—his scent filled her lungs, citrus and iron, so alive it made her dizzy.
---
Feriole's Observation
Feriole watched Lieta from across the classroom as the biology teacher demonstrated a dissection. The scent of copper filled the air when the scalpel sliced into the frog's flesh, and Lieta stiffened, her knuckles whitening around her pen.
"Miss Vayne?" The teacher gestured to the specimen. "Care to examine the circulatory system?"
Lieta rose unsteadily. As she leaned over the tray, a drop of blood oozed onto the dissection paper. Her breath hitched, and she stumbled back, knocking her chair to the floor.
"I—I need air," she whispered before bolting from the room.
Feriole frowned. That reaction… it wasn't normal.
He followed, finding her slumped against a hallway window, her face ashen.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
She jerked away. "Fine. Just… queasy."
But her eyes flickered—a flash of crimson—before she ducked her head.
*Odd.*
Almost like…
No. Impossible.
---
Library Shadows
That afternoon, Feriole returned to the library, the vampire history book heavy in his hands. The dim light filtering through the windows cast eerie shadows across the pages as he flipped to a dog-eared section:
*"Vampires possess heightened senses, particularly to blood. Their aversion to garlic and sunlight are telltale signs, though some learn to mask these weaknesses."*
His mind replayed the train ride—Lieta's lips grazing his neck, her feverish retreat. The way she had loaded her plate with garlic at lunch, only to vanish afterward. The way she had fled biology class at the sight of blood…
He shut the book with a snap, unease coiling in his chest.
It can't be.
But the evidence was stacking up.
---
Lieta's Secret
By dusk, Lieta's vial was empty again. She ducked into an alley behind the school, fumbling with a fresh pouch of blood. The plastic crinkled in her grip as she brought it to her lips—
"Think the rumors are true? About vampires here?"
Her blood ran cold.
Two classmates rounded the corner, their laughter sharp in the quiet alley. Lieta froze, the pouch hidden in her sleeve.
"Who knows?" the other girl sneered. "But if I catch one, I'll—"
"Vayne?"
Feriole's voice cut through the alley. He stepped into view, glancing between the girls and Lieta.
"The teacher's looking for you," he said coolly.
The girls hesitated, then scurried off, whispering to each other.
Feriole turned to Lieta. "You shouldn't be out here alone."
Her heart pounded. Did he know? Had he seen the blood?
"I… I was just leaving," she mumbled.
But as she hurried away, she felt his gaze burning into her back.
---
Whispers in the Dark
That night, Feriole paced his room, the vampire book open on his desk. Moonlight glinted off a sketched illustration—a girl with fangs, her eyes blazing red.
*Lieta's face flickered in his mind—the fear in her eyes, the unnatural grace, the hunger she couldn't hide.*
"No," he growled, slamming the book shut.
But doubt lingered, sharp and insistent.
Somewhere across town, Lieta stared at her reflection, tracing the faint shadows beneath her eyes.
*"Monster,"* she whispered.
The word hung in the air, a truth she could never outrun.