Chapter 3 The Vampire

Ashmoor Academy – East Wing Library The next day Seren had never seen a library like this. The entrance alone was taller than her house. The doors groaned like they hadn't been opened in centuries, and the moment she stepped inside, the temperature dropped. It was as if the room were preserved in shadow and dust. Shelves stretched high into darkness. Lanterns floated midair, casting pools of golden light. She stood in awe until a voice behind her broke the silence. "You're not supposed to be in here alone." She spun around, instinctively stepping back-only to freeze.

The boy leaning in the doorway wasn't just beautiful. He was inhumanly perfect. Tall, lean, with raven-black hair that fell just below his jaw, and skin so pale it almost shimmered. His uniform was immaculate, lined in deep crimson with a silver pin in the shape of a fang. And his eyes- Crimson. Deep. Watching her like she was prey. "You're bleeding," he said, almost curiously. She frowned. "I'm not-" But he was already in front of her. Fast. Silent. Close. He lifted her hand gently, his touch surprisingly cold. The glowing mark on her forearm was faint now, but it still pulsed with quiet heat. "Ah. Not blood. Magic." His voice was smooth. Almost... hungry. "No wonder you smell so tempting." Seren yanked her hand back. "Do you always flirt by announcing you want to eat people?" He smirked. "Only when they smell like prophecy." She took a step back, keeping the nearest bookshelf between them. "Who are you?" "Lucien Vale," he said with a shallow bow. "Second Heir of the Crimson Court. Vampire. Third-year." He grinned, flashing a fang. "Charmed." Seren raised an eyebrow. "Do all vampires talk like they're in a Shakespeare play?" "Only the ones with class." He circled a little, like a panther pacing the edge of a cage. "And you... you're the one they're whispering about." "The Marked girl. The cursed one who made the wards scream." Her breath hitched. "Relax," he added. "I'm not going to bite you. Not without permission." "That's comforting," she muttered. Lucien led her through the winding aisles like he owned the place - and he probably did. Most students gave the library a wide berth. But Lucien moved through it like it answered only to him. "You're Valeblood," he said. "Which means something rare flows in your veins. Something dangerous." "Like what?" He stopped in front of an ancient tome, ran his fingers across its spine, and pulled it loose. The book fell open, pages turning on their own until a cracked, ink-blotted page revealed an ancient sketch: A girl with a glowing mark on her arm, standing in a circle of beasts. The text read: The She Who Bears the Brand shall wake what sleeps below. Chosen not by fate, but by fire, she will break the chains - or be the final seal. Seren stared at the drawing. "That's not me." Lucien tilted his head. "Isn't it?" She should've left right then. Instead, she found herself watching Lucien's mouth as he spoke. The way his lips moved around ancient words. The flick of his tongue when he said her name for the first time. "Seren." The air between them thickened. His voice dipped lower. "Tell me something, Seren Blake. Why does your blood call to me like a storm?" "I don't know." "Then let me find out." He stepped closer again - too close - until she could see the faint vein in his throat, pulsing slowly beneath the surface. His hand brushed her arm, fingers tracing the mark, which flared beneath his touch. She gasped. "Stop," she whispered. "I-I don't know what this is-" "I do," he said, voice velvet and cold. "It's old magic. Buried deep. Calling to what we are." Seren closed her eyes, heart racing. Part of her wanted to run. The other part wanted to see what would happen if she stayed. He leaned in - not to kiss, but to breathe against her neck. "You smell like fire and fear and something I can't name," he murmured. "And I'm going to find out what you are, Seren. Even if it kills me." Just as his lips brushed her skin- "Lucien." A sharp voice echoed from the shadows. Both of them turned. A tall woman with platinum hair and golden eyes stepped into view. Her robes were crimson. Her gaze-lethal. "You know the Headmistress forbade feeding from new initiates." Lucien smiled, backing off slightly. "I wasn't feeding. I was... studying." "Keep studying, and she'll bind your fangs again." Lucien sighed. "Such a buzzkill, Aunt Elira." "Come with me. Now." He gave Seren one last smoldering look, eyes flicking down to her mark. "Next time," he whispered. "Don't run." Then he vanished with the woman, shadows curling behind him like a cloak. Seren stood alone in the aisle, heart still thudding. Why did she let him get that close? Why hadn't she pushed him away? And worse - why did she want him to come back? Her mark still pulsed. Not pain. Not fear. Need. As she left the library, a piece of parchment fluttered down from the rafters and landed at her feet. She picked it up slowly, hands trembling. One word burned across the page in crimson ink: MINE. Not signed. Not sealed. Just... claimed. Her skin prickled. The library, once quiet, now felt like it was watching her. She stuffed the note in her coat pocket and fled the east wing. Two nights later, she was back. The Academy's schedule was chaotic - classes on Spell Theory, Combat Ethics, Rituals & Runes - but no answers. No mention of her Mark. No clue why her presence made ancient magic wake up. She'd hoped to avoid Lucien. But of course, fate had other plans. She found him in the Blood Mirror Room, a hidden chamber she stumbled into while escaping a sentient staircase. Lucien stood before a wide oval mirror surrounded by red candles. His reflection... wasn't quite his. It flickered - showing different versions of him, dressed in outdated court attire, wearing crowns, swords, mourning bands. "You shouldn't be here," he said without looking back. "Neither should you," she replied. Lucien's reflection turned. Smiled. But he didn't. "This room shows your past selves," he murmured. "Sometimes... more." He turned toward her, eyes tired. "Have you ever wondered if the dreams you have aren't yours at all? Before she could answer, the mirror pulsed. The mark on her wrist glowed hot - so hot she cried out, stumbling back. Lucien caught her. The moment their skin touched, the mirror shattered. And everything around them changed. They weren't in the Academy anymore. They were in a ballroom made of obsidian, under a sky full of red stars. Seren stood in a silver dress she didn't remember owning. Lucien wore armor, blood-stained and royal. They were dancing. "You promised," he whispered against her hair. "Even if they curse us. Even if the gods turn." "I never break my promise," her voice replied - not her voice now, but another version, older, fiercer. Lucien's past self kissed her then. Hard. Desperate. Like it was the last time. And then- Fire. Screaming. A sword through his chest. Her magic exploding outward. A dragon's roar in the distance. And darkness. Seren collapsed as they were flung back into the present, both panting, shaking. Lucien knelt in front of her, blood trickling from his nose. "That wasn't a vision," she whispered. "That was... us." He didn't deny it. "You always find me," he said softly. "Even across lifetimes." The door to the mirror room exploded open. Three tall figures entered, wearing bone-white cloaks and no faces - just smooth, porcelain masks. The Watchers. Lucien stepped between her and them instantly, fangs bared. "She didn't mean to-" "The curse was triggered," one said. "The seal broke again." "You brought her to the Blood Mirror," another said. "Do you wish for history to repeat itself?" Lucien snarled. "Touch her, and I'll end you." The Watchers stared. "The girl will be tested at moonrise. Until then... contain yourself, Prince Vale." They vanished. Lucien turned back to her. For once, he looked... afraid. "What was that?" she whispered. "A glimpse. Of a life we weren't meant to remember." "But why me?" He reached for her again - slower this time - brushing her glowing mark. "Because you were the one who cursed me, Seren. And the one who tried to save me." Her heart hammered. "And now?" she breathed. "Now..." He pressed his forehead to hers, fangs still visible. "Now you're the only thing that keeps me human." She didn't pull away. Even when he leaned in. Even when his lips brushed hers. Even when he whispered: "You're mine, Seren. Marked or not. I will not lose you again."