ARIA'S POV
"You ready for this?"
Elena hands me my bag, her expression worried. It's been twelve hours since that kiss went viral. Twelve hours of stares in the hallways, whispers behind hands, and three more threatening notes shoved under our door.
All from Seraphine's friends.
"No," I admit. "But I don't have a choice."
"You could skip alchemy. Fake sick."
"And look weak?" I shake my head. "That's what they want."
Elena hugs me tight. "If you die in there, I'm going to be so mad at you."
I laugh despite my nerves. "Noted."
The walk to the alchemy lab feels like walking to my execution. Students part for me in the hallways now—some with respect, most with hostility. The video of Lucian kissing me has been viewed over a thousand times.
Everyone knows the student council president claimed me.
Which means everyone wants to know why.
I reach the lab and take a deep breath. Through the window, I see them—twenty vampire students already seated. Professor Crane stands at the front, arranging vials and knives on each desk.
Sharp silver knives.
Don't bleed, Lucian's voice echoes in my head. Not even a drop.
Too late to turn back now.
I push open the door.
Every head turns. The whispers start immediately.
"That's her."
"The human Lucian kissed."
"What's so special about her?"
I keep my head high and walk to the only empty seat—front and center where Professor Crane can watch me. Where every vampire behind me can watch the back of my neck.
As I sit, I feel eyes burning into me. I glance back and freeze.
The scarred vampire from yesterday sits in the back row. He's staring at me with those dark, haunted eyes. Up close, I can see the scars clearly—silver burns across his neck and arms that look painful even healed.
He doesn't smile. Doesn't acknowledge me. Just stares with an intensity that makes my skin prickle.
"Good morning, class." Professor Crane's voice is calm and kind. "Today we're learning blood identification spells. Each of you has a silver blade and a crystal. We'll be using small samples of your own blood to—"
"Professor?" A girl's voice calls out. "Why is the human here? She can't do blood magic."
Murmurs of agreement.
Crane smiles serenely. "Miss Blackwood is a special case. She'll be observing today."
"Just observing?" someone else asks. "Then why does she have a knife?"
I look down at my desk. Sure enough, there's a silver blade and crystal like everyone else.
"Mistakes happen," Crane says smoothly. "Miss Blackwood, you'll use the knife to cut ingredients only. No blood work for you."
Relief floods through me. Just cutting herbs and roots. I can do that without bleeding.
Crane begins the lesson, explaining the spell while students make small cuts on their fingers. Their blood—vampire blood—looks darker than human blood. Almost black. It doesn't call to the other vampires. Doesn't make them hungry.
I focus on chopping the dried herbs he assigns me. Wolfsbane. Nightshade. Things that would kill a human but are harmless to vampires.
My hands are steady. Careful. I'm doing fine.
Then Crane places a new ingredient in front of me. "This root is particularly tough. Press hard."
I position the knife and push down. The root is hard as stone. I press harder.
The blade slips.
Everything happens in slow motion.
The knife slides across the root and slices deep into my palm. Pain explodes through my hand. Blood—bright red human blood—wells up and drips onto my desk.
One drop. Two. Three.
The room goes silent.
Then chaos erupts.
Every vampire freezes, their heads snapping toward me in perfect unison. Their eyes turn black—completely black, no color at all. Fangs descend with audible clicks.
The scent of my blood hits them like a drug.
"Oh no," I whisper, clutching my bleeding hand.
A vampire in the front row stands. His chair crashes backward. He's staring at my hand, trembling, fighting himself.
"Sit down!" Crane commands, but his own eyes are darkening too.
Another student lurches forward. Then another.
They're all staring at me with pure hunger. Not the controlled, polite hunger of vampires around humans. This is primal. Desperate. Violent.
"I'm sorry!" I gasp, trying to wrap my hand in my sleeve. But the blood keeps coming, the scent filling the room. "I didn't mean to—"
A girl lunges.
She's fast—vampire fast—reaching for me with fangs bared.
Professor Crane catches her mid-air, throwing her back. But two more students lunge immediately after. Then three more.
They're not thinking anymore. Just reacting. Hunting.
"GET OUT!" Crane roars at me, holding back four vampires at once. "RUN!"
I scramble backward, but there are vampires between me and the door now. All of them advancing slowly, eyes locked on my bleeding hand.
"Please," I whisper. "I don't want to hurt anyone."
The scarred vampire stands. He's shaking violently, his hands gripping the desk so hard it splinters. His eyes are black like the others, but there's something different in his expression. Pain. Like smelling my blood is agony.
"What are you?" he growls, his voice rough and desperate.
Before I can answer, the door explodes inward.
Lucian appears like an avenging angel—moving so fast he's a blur. His presence hits the room like a physical force, making every vampire stagger back.
"CONTROL YOURSELVES!" His voice echoes with power that shouldn't be possible. It's not just loud—it's compulsion, ancient vampire magic that forces obedience.
Every student drops to their knees instantly. Even Professor Crane bows his head.
Only the scarred vampire remains standing, still shaking, still staring at me.
Lucian is at my side in a heartbeat, pulling me behind him protectively. His silver eyes are blazing with fury and fear.
"Everyone out," he commands. "NOW."
Students flee, moving vampire-fast, desperate to escape before they lose control again. In seconds, the classroom empties.
Except for four of us. Me, Lucian, Professor Crane, and the scarred vampire.
Lucian gently takes my bleeding hand, and I see his jaw clench. His eyes darken, pupils dilating. His nostrils flare.
"You smell it too," the scarred vampire says, his voice strained. "Her blood isn't normal."
"I know." Lucian's voice is tight. He's fighting himself—I can see it in the tension of his body, the way his fangs have descended slightly.
But he doesn't hurt me. Just carefully wraps my hand in cloth from his pocket, his touch impossibly gentle despite the hunger in his eyes.
"What IS she?" the scarred vampire demands, stepping closer.
"Back off, Kieran," Lucian warns, positioning himself between us.
So this is Kieran. K.D. from the text message.
Professor Crane finally speaks, his ancient eyes studying me with unsettling intensity. "That scent. That reaction. I haven't witnessed it in over a century."
"What does that mean?" I ask, my voice shaking.
Crane moves closer, examining my wrapped hand like it holds secrets. When he looks up at me, there's wonder and fear in his expression.
"Child," he says quietly. "Do you know what you are?"
"Human?" I try.
"No." Kieran's voice is rough, haunted. "Your blood... it called to me like nothing ever has. Made me want to tear through everyone in this room to get to you. Made me feel things I haven't felt in almost two centuries."
"What things?" I whisper.
"Hope." The word sounds like it's ripped from him. "Your blood smells like hope and salvation and everything I've lost."
Lucian's grip on me tightens protectively. "She's Bloodborn."
The word hangs in the air.
"Impossible," Crane breathes. "The last Bloodborn died in 1889."
"What's Bloodborn?" I demand, fear making my voice sharp.
"Human descended from the First Vampire," Lucian explains, his voice strained. "Your blood carries ancient vampire magic. It can enhance our powers, create unbreakable bonds, or—in the wrong hands—enslave us completely."
My stomach drops. "That's why everyone reacted like that? Why you all want—"
"You," Kieran finishes, his dark eyes intense. "Every vampire within a mile radius felt it when you bled. Felt the call. The need. You're not just prey, Aria. You're the most valuable thing in the vampire world."
"And the most endangered," Crane adds gravely. "Bloodborn are hunted. Coveted. Fought over. Vampire wars have been started over a single Bloodborn."
"No." I shake my head, backing away. "That's not possible. I'm just—I'm nobody. My dad was an antiques dealer, my mom died when I was young, I'm just—"
"Special," Lucian says softly, turning to face me. "That's why your stepmother sent you here. She knew what you are."
Everything clicks into place. Celeste's smile when I left. The mysterious invitation. Her selling information about me.
"She was going to sell me," I whisper. "To vampires."
"Yes." Lucian's expression is murderous. "But someone intercepted. Sent you the invitation instead. Brought you here where—"
"Where I could protect you," a new voice says.
We all turn.
A man stands in the doorway—beautiful, sophisticated, with an ageless quality that screams 'ancient vampire.' His eyes are kind but calculating.
"I'm Dorian Nightshade," he says, smiling at me. "And I've been waiting three hundred years for you, Aria Blackwood."
D.N. The other mystery texter.
"This is insane," I breathe, my world tilting.
"This is destiny," Dorian corrects, walking into the room like he owns it. "I sent you the invitation. I've been orchestrating your arrival since I sensed your bloodline awakening six months ago."
"You've been STALKING her," Lucian growls.
"I've been PROTECTING her." Dorian's eyes flash with power. "From traffickers, from blood farms, from everyone who would have used her and killed her."
Kieran moves closer to me, his expression fierce. "And what makes you think you're any better? You're just another vampire who wants to use her."
"I want to save her," Dorian counters. "There's a difference."
"Enough!" My voice cracks through the room. All three vampires turn to me. "I don't care about your plans or your history or your three-century wait. What I care about is: am I safe?"
Silence.
"No," Lucian finally says, his honesty brutal. "Every vampire in this academy knows what you are now. Word will spread. By tomorrow, every vampire in the region will know a Bloodborn has been found."
"Then what do I do?"
The three vampires exchange looks. Ancient, scarred, and protective. All watching me with hunger and something else. Something deeper.
"You choose," Dorian says quietly. "Bloodborn can bond with vampires. Create connections that protect both parties. You need protection, Aria. And we—" he gestures to himself, Lucian, and Kieran "—can provide it."
"In exchange for what?" I ask, though I already know.
"You," all three say simultaneously.
My blood runs cold.
Three vampires. Three offers of protection. Three pairs of eyes watching me like I'm salvation and temptation wrapped in one fragile human body.
"This is insane," I whisper again.
"This is survival," Kieran corrects. "Choose us or choose death. Because that's what's coming for you now that they know what you are."
Outside the window, I see shadows moving. Vampires gathering. Watching.
Waiting.
And I realize my quiet escape from Celeste has turned into something far more dangerous.
I've become the prize in a vampire game I don't understand.
And three powerful, dangerous, beautiful vampires are offering to protect me.
If I belong to them.
All of them.