The classroom still smelled of smoke and witch-fire when Teacher Yen Yark adjusted his white robe, emerald eyes sharp and piercing as they settled on Nyx. His voice carried authority, but beneath it, a subtle edge of concern lingered, as though he were testing the boy's resilience. "Nyx, are you alright?"
The room fell into an unnatural stillness. Whispers died, students leaning forward, waiting. Nyx sat upright, golden eyes cold and unflinching, meeting the teacher's gaze without a flicker of hesitation. His expression was sharp, unreadable—a mask forged from centuries of discipline. "Yes. I am fine." The words were clipped, final, leaving no room for sympathy.
Before the silence could settle, Ron hovered close, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Fine? Aren't you used to witches? If Nia and Carl hadn't arrived when they did, you'd be nothing more than a witch's feast. Lately, witches are slaughtering our kind to thin the vampire population." His grin was provocative, testing boundaries.
Nyx's head tilted slowly, jaw stiffening, voice low and dangerous. "Aren't we supposed to be stronger than witches?" The words weren't a question—they were a challenge. The entire classroom seemed to hold its breath, the air tight with anticipation.
Yen Yark stepped forward, his robe sweeping across the polished black-marble floor. "Yes, we are stronger," he acknowledged, "but not every vampire is aware of their true abilities… not every vampire understands how to harness them. Just like you, Nyx." His gaze lingered, almost piercing, as if he could sense the anomaly beneath Nyx's skin. "You are new, and you must discover your potential swiftly, before a witch—or even a werewolf—finds you unprepared." His words struck like a blade, but Nyx remained impassive, arms folded, chin tilted, a silent dare to press further.
Then, Yen Yark's voice softened, deliberate. "As for you, Nia and Carl, you were late, but since you fought bravely and saved Nyx, I will not inquire further." Nia inclined her head faintly, golden-brown hair catching the emerald light, while Carl remained tense, eyes locked on Nyx. An unspoken understanding passed in the air between them, sharp, undeniable—but Nyx's icy mask betrayed nothing.
The lecture resumed. Yen Yark unfurled ancient scrolls, his voice echoing through the grand hall as he explained the Rules of the Emerald Moon—binding laws governing all vampires. He spoke of the moon's energy, its power to replenish strength, the necessity of respecting its pull as humans respect their heartbeat. Nyx listened, silent, absorbing every word, committing it to memory with the precision of a predator. Each principle was etched into his mind like a blade striking stone.
The great iron bell rang abruptly, signaling the end of class. Nyx arched a brow, golden eyes narrowing. "Just one teacher… one lecture?" His voice was low, sharp, tinged with impatience. Ron chuckled, hovering beside him. "So what? You want to sit here reading laws all day? No, man. That's not how it works." Natalia glided closer, gown swishing though her feet never touched the floor. "Jamie should have taught you a thing or two at home already," she said, lips curling in amusement. The group laughed lightly, their hovering forms glowing faintly under the emerald moon. Nyx's eyes hardened. "Amusing," he said flatly, before turning away, his presence silencing the laughter.
Outside, the green glow of the eternal moon bathed the streets in an eerie radiance. Nyx's footsteps echoed softly beneath the long white robe, mind sharp, replaying the lecture, parsing every detail. Across the courtyard, his golden eyes caught Nia's, unwavering, curious, piercing through the frost of his exterior. He shifted his gaze, meeting Carl's piercing stare—broad-shouldered, unyielding, attempting to strip away the secrets Nyx guarded. The air tightened between them, charged, a silent war of presence, before Nyx finally turned away. His cold façade remained intact, though the weight of those stares lingered, claws against his skin.
The house loomed ahead—gothic, oppressive, black-marble walls shimmering under the moonlight. Inside, silence pressed like a physical weight. Nyx discarded his school robes, moving with sharp, calculated precision into darker garments. A hollow ache gnawed at his stomach: hunger. The Book of Blood's words rang in his mind—vampires fed on flesh. He scanned the storeroom. Empty. A silent curse slipped from his lips.
The library drew his gaze, crimson-stained pages of the Book of Blood calling him. He flipped methodically until the passage emerged: When flesh is gone, vampires must hunt. Hunt. The word resonated in his chest like fire. Impossible. Not truly one of them, yet the hunger twisted, sharp and insistent.
A tantalizing aroma suddenly filled the air—roasted meat, spiced, rich. A sharp knock followed against the iron door. Nyx opened it calmly, though the scent burned his senses. Standing there was a tall, muscular vampire, chiseled, faintly glowing pink hair. Confidence radiated from him.
"Joseph Bale," he said smoothly, bowing slightly. "Your neighbor. Jamie instructed us to look after you until he returned." His eyes flicked toward the plate in his hands, the smell of chicken hitting Nyx sharply.
Nyx's gaze remained cold, measured, as he stepped aside. "I was… hungry. Sit."
Joseph entered, placing the food on the table, sharp eyes scanning the room. "Where did Jamie go?" he asked bluntly. Nyx sliced through hunger with deliberate bites, voice clipped. "He didn't tell me either."
Joseph leaned back, eyes glinting. "I study at Hunting College, along with my brother, Andrew Bale." Nyx's mind sharpened. "How many years of law before Hunting College?"
Laughter spilled from Joseph, sharp, amused. "Pass Hunting College before Law, not after. Jamie didn't explain."
Nyx's gaze hardened, gold flashing under the moonlight. "Then explain."
Joseph smirked. "Hunting College teaches you to sense prey, danger, attack, defend—the basics. Law alone is useless without hunting."
Nyx's voice was low, cold, unblinking. "Then I need both. Law and hunting."
Joseph's smirk widened. "I'll teach you. But there's a price—your first girlfriend. Hand her over."
A faint, cold smile curved Nyx's lips. "Done." No hesitation.
Joseph retrieved a thick hunting manual, handing it to Nyx. "Study tonight. Tomorrow, we begin, after Law class." Nyx's fingers tightened over the leather cover. Hunger replaced by determination, he settled at his desk.
The night stretched endless, emerald glow unwavering. Nyx read the manual, practiced silently, shifted seamlessly to the Book of Law, his mind sharp, relentless. No fatigue touched him, no hunger weakened him, no secret unlearned. In this strange, treacherous world, Nyx Oliver would not be weak. He would master law and hunting. He would outpace them all.
Morvain Mare stood in the grand, shadow-drenched hall of the Mare estate, his towering figure radiating authority. His chiseled frame seemed carved from marble itself, each muscle defined, his presence so commanding that even the emerald moonlight seemed to bend toward him.