Chapter 1 The Mark I Hide

Nyxira POV

I don't belong here.

The thought loops in my head like a curse as I stare at the iron gates of Valemorth Academy, taller than any tree I've ever seen, carved with ancient symbols I can't read. The air is colder here, sharp against my skin. Even the wind seems to whisper warnings.

I clutch the sleeve of my jacket, making sure it covers my hand completely. I can still feel the mark burning faintly beneath the fabric, the one I've hidden all my life-the one that could get me killed.

Dragons don't exist anymore. Everyone knows that.

At least, they're not supposed to.

I breathe in slow, steady. I've trained myself not to react. No fear, no trembling, no signs that I'm anything but normal. I've gotten good at hiding. Years of running teach you that. Keep your head down, stay quiet, don't draw attention.

Valemorth is the exact opposite of everything I've ever known.

Students walk past me wearing tailored cloaks, enchanted jewelry, and glowing tattoos. They're confident, powerful, dangerous. Wolves, witches, vampires, fae-creatures I've only read about in the shadows of stolen books. Some look human, but most don't bother hiding what they are.

I'm not like them. I'm not anything.

I'm just Nyxira Rayn. Or at least, that's who I pretend to be.

The academy looms like a fortress carved into the mountainside. Spires twist into the clouds, and floating bridges connect the towers like spider silk. It's beautiful and terrifying at the same time. I don't know why I was accepted here. I never applied.

Someone sent my name.

Someone who knows what I am.

The thought chills me more than the mountain air.

"Name?" A voice snaps me out of my thoughts. A guard-tall, silver-eyed, armor laced with runes-waits with a glowing tablet in hand.

I swallow and step forward. "Nyxira. Nyxira Rayn."

He taps the name in. For a second, I think he'll laugh and tell me it's a mistake. That I don't belong.

Instead, he nods. "Dorm 6A. Orientation starts in the Hall of Scepters. Don't be late."

I nod back, not trusting my voice. As I pass through the gates, the magic hums against my skin-like it's scanning me. Testing me. I keep walking.

Inside the courtyard, everything is alive with power. Trees with golden leaves whisper secrets. Statues move when no one's looking. A girl with wings disappears into mist. A boy breathes fire like it's nothing.

I slip through the crowd unnoticed, just the way I like it.

But the moment I step into the Hall, I feel it-eyes.

Watching me.

The room is massive, shaped like a dome, lit by floating crystals that shift color with emotion. Students fill the tiers, chattering, laughing, sizing each other up. I find a seat near the edge, back against the wall.

Safe.

That's when I see him.

Zeryn Verridan.

Even I recognize him-the Wolf Prince. Alpha of the Crescent Claw bloodline. Everyone knows the stories. Born in battle. Stronger than anyone his age. Untouchable.

He strides into the hall like he owns the world, eyes sharp, golden, wild. People move out of his way. He doesn't smile.

And then his gaze sweeps over the crowd-pauses-lands on me.

My stomach tightens.

He frowns. Just slightly. Like he's trying to place me. Like he senses something off.

I look away first.

Then I see him.

Darian Ravelle. The Vampire heir.

He's the opposite of Zeryn. Still, composed, too perfect. Pale skin, silver hair, eyes like frozen glass. He moves like a shadow-quiet, smooth, calculating.

And he's staring at me too.

Why? What do they see?

I pull my hood up. I shouldn't have come. This place isn't safe.

Someone knows. Someone always knows.

A loud crack silences the room. A figure appears at the center of the hall, standing on the crystal platform-an old man in long silver robes, eyes glowing faintly.

"Welcome," he says. "To Valemorth Academy. Only the strong survive. Let's see what you're made of."

The floor shifts. Magic pulses through the room. Walls slide open to reveal corridors. Doors slam shut behind us. Students begin to rise, confused.

This isn't just orientation.

It's a test.

I shoot to my feet, heart racing. The lights dim.

A voice echoes from above.

"Let the Trials begin."

And just like that, the floor drops beneath me.

The air rushes past me as I fall, too fast to scream.

Light flashes around me-symbols, runes, something ancient I can't read. I brace myself for impact, but instead, I land softly, like the magic slowed my fall just before I hit the ground.

My knees still buckle.

I look around, breath shaky. I'm in some kind of underground arena. A dark stone chamber, round, with smooth walls. Torches light themselves as I rise. There are no doors. No windows. Just the hum of magic in the walls, like the room itself is watching me.

What kind of school does this?

A voice echoes in my head. Not spoken aloud. A whisper in my mind.

"Reveal your truth or be unmade."

My heart slams against my ribs.

No. No, I can't. I've kept it hidden all my life. I won't let them see.

The mark on my palm tingles, burning through the cloth of my sleeve.

"Don't," I whisper to myself. "Stay small. Stay quiet."

The stone before me shifts. A creature rises from it-huge, black as ash, with too many limbs and no face. Its body drips shadow like blood. It growls, low and guttural.

I don't know what it is, but I know this: it's not here to test me. It's here to kill me.

It charges.

I dive to the side, barely dodging the claws that strike the stone where I stood a second ago. Dust explodes. My shoulder hits the wall hard. Pain shoots through my arm, but I keep moving.

Think, Nyxira. Think.

I can't fight this thing. I've never trained. Never battled. I've always run.

But there's no way out of this room.

The shadow beast lunges again, faster this time. I roll under its swing, grabbing a loose stone from the floor and hurling it. It hits-but the creature doesn't even flinch.

It's feeding on fear.

I can feel it.

It's drawn to my panic. My shaking hands. My racing pulse.

The mark burns hotter.

No. Not now. Not here.

I back into the far wall, breath shallow. My sleeve slips, just for a second. The golden mark glows faintly beneath the skin.

The creature stops.

Its head tilts like it sees me for the first time. Not as prey. As something else.

It takes a step back.

Then another.

And suddenly-it kneels.

The torches flare.

The magic in the room shifts, almost like... it's bowing too.

I stand frozen, chest rising and falling.

What just happened?

Before I can move, a door appears in the wall behind me. A clean break in the stone. Light spills through it-blinding white.

Footsteps echo from beyond.

I turn slowly, heart pounding again.

A tall figure walks through the light, robes dark, face half-hidden beneath a silver hood.

"You're not what they think you are," he says. His voice is quiet, but it slices through the air.

He knows.

"Who are you?" I whisper.

He steps closer. His eyes glow gold beneath the hood.

"Your Trials have just begun, Celestial."