"Pure bitter black coffee will do," Ryan said, giving his order. The rest followed suit.
He had always ordered black coffee, even as a child. He needed the bitterness—it reminded him of his family's survival motto: kill or be killed. Years of training and battles had sharpened his senses far beyond the average hunter. That instinct had kept him alive and made him one of the best at his age.
He had sensed Kira approaching long before she entered the café. Her energy was unusual—quiet but dangerous. It carried no killing intent, so he allowed her presence. But something about her put him on edge, something he couldn't identify. She moved like a predator assessing prey.
It wasn't until she reached their table that he saw her eyes clearly. Bright—unnaturally bright. Innocent, almost ethereal at first glance. But the longer he looked, the more he sensed the truth behind them.
Danger.
Death.
Killing intent buried beneath a mask of purity.
Those eyes had likely watched many take their last breath.
"Sir, your coffee as you ordered," Kira said, setting the cup down. She turned to leave, but a sharp voice cut through the air.
"Wait!" the younger boy snapped. Kira guessed he was Ryan. "Didn't you listen to instructions? This isn't what I ordered."
"Oh! Sorry, sir. I might've brought the wrong order. I may have added a little bit of sugar," she replied calmly.
"And why?" he asked, voice cool and emotionless.
"I just thought black coffee is too bitter for you. I wanted to show you it can be better with just a little sugar added," she said, trying to sound innocent.
"I love my coffee black—without sugar. You shouldn't change customers' orders as you please." He rubbed the space between his brows in irritation.
"I apologize," Kira said softly.
Ryan looked up at her for a moment, studying her expression, then looked away.
"Is your customer service always this poor?" the older man asked harshly.
"No, sir," Kira replied with a slight bow, fighting back a growl.
"Call your manager. I want to speak to her personally."
Kira quickly hurried off to find Celina.
A few minutes later, Celina returned to the storeroom where Kira stood waiting. Her expression made it clear she was not pleased.
"Celina, it was just a little bit of sugar. What's the fuss about—"
"Please stop, Kira!" Celina cut her off sharply. "You should've noticed those two are hunters. And not average hunters—you could feel their aura. Why would you provoke them? What you did was dangerous! Yes, I know you hate hunters, but don't drag me down with you. Don't make me regret taking you in."
"I… I'm sorry," Kira said quietly.
"Please don't do that again. They were furious, and I don't appreciate your behavior today."
"I won't," Kira replied, though inside she felt no remorse.
To her, it had been a simple matter. Provoking them was purposeful. If they acted up, she would end them. Kira believed the strong trampled the weak—and she had always known she was strong enough to trample her enemies.
The rest of the day passed more smoothly, though the morning had been rough.
---
The next day, sunlight peeked through her curtains. Birds chirped outside her balcony, loud enough to reach the bedroom.
"Ah… please stop," Kira groaned as her alarm buzzed beside her. It was her first day of school—she couldn't afford to be late.
She sat up, taking a deep breath. Sweat clung to her skin. She wiped her forehead with the back of her palm and leaned against the headboard, trying to regulate her breathing.
Every night, her past memories replayed like a curse—flames, screams, blood. Every morning she woke ready to kill. The only thing that eased the urge was running with her wolf pack in the Chihuahuan Desert—but today she had no time.
She headed to the restroom to shower. After drying her hair, she put on black jeans, a black crop top, a black jacket, and black boots. She pulled her thick brown curls into a bun, grabbed her phone and wallet, and left.
It was her first day at school.
She already hated it.
The thought of being surrounded for hours by strangers—humans and hunters—made her stomach churn. Their scents were unbearable to her heightened senses.
Kira stopped at the entrance and sighed.
A familiar scent approached from behind moments before a cold voice said, "Is it necessary to stand right in the middle of the road?"
"It's not necessary to walk right behind me when there are other places to walk," she replied flatly.
He frowned but said nothing, walking past her.
He didn't see it, but a small smile tugged at his lips once he was out of her sight.
Kira nearly snarled when she recognized him—Ryan, from the café.
"Don't pay him any attention," another voice said behind her.
"What?" Kira asked, instinctively stepping away to keep distance.
"I'm Camille Didier. Are you new?" the girl asked cheerfully.
"Kira…" she responded, far less enthusiastic.
"You know that guy?" Kira asked, still watching Ryan disappear.
"Yes—well, who wouldn't know him? He's new, but he's already the hottest guy in school. Everyone wants to be friends with him, even the queen bee, but he's cold and keeps to himself," Camille said, sounding disappointed.
"Anyway, what grade are you in?" Camille chirped.
"Grade 10," Kira answered, already preparing to walk off.
"Oh! Me too! Come on, I'll show you around."
"No need," Kira said coldly, walking away.
But Camille hurried after her.
"Hey, come on! You're new—you don't know anything yet. I'm offering a free tour and good information. Just be my friend!"
Kira rolled her eyes. The girl talked too much. Too loudly. Too close.
She had the strong urge to rip out her throat—but Camille was blissfully unaware of the danger beside her.
"I'll introduce you to some of my friends! This is Anton," Camille said as they reached another student.
Anton waved cheerfully. "Hi! Welcome, Kira. Where are you from?"
"Around," she replied, still trying to put distance between them.
"I hope you like it here," he said with a sweet smile.
Kira ignored him completely.
"Come on," Anton said, unfazed. "I'll take you to the dean's office."