---
The dorm was quiet by evening. Most students were either in the common rooms or still out for night training. I was just exhausted.
After everything—the weird lap class incident with Lira, Ayaka's tour straddling, and the headmistress who practically claimed me—I just needed a moment alone. Maybe two.
So I stripped off my shirt, tossed it over the chair, grabbed a towel, and made my way into the dorm's communal showers.
I didn't expect anyone to be there this late.
But the second I turned on the water, I heard them.
Footsteps. Giggles. Whispers. Then the sound of the door swinging open.
Dozens of bare feet padded in over the tile. The soft scent of floral shampoo, steamy heat, and something else—something much more primal—began to fill the space. I peeked around the corner.
It was full of girls.
All of them students from the academy.
Some wrapped in thin towels. Others in barely anything at all. Eyes shimmering, faces flushed—not from heat, but from something closer to hunger.
They saw me—and I could tell immediately.
They wanted to pull me in. Touch me. Tempt me.
But none of them dared cross the invisible line. The magical mark my stepsister had placed on me still lingered, even if only faintly. To them, it was like touching fire.
And yet… they didn't know it was fading.
They tried other tactics instead. Washing slowly in front of me, arching their backs, letting their hands linger across their curves as they rinsed. One even dropped her towel right in front of me and acted surprised.
But none of them got close.
One by one, they finished. Each giving me a look—some playful, some frustrated—as they left.
All except one.
She stood at the edge of the steam, a silhouette backlit by the soft golden glow of the lanterns. Pale skin, long black hair dripping wet, and deep crimson eyes that shimmered even in the dim light.
A vampire.
She stepped forward, barefoot and slow, letting her gaze trace me from head to toe.
"I saw the way she sat on your lap in class," she murmured. Her voice was low, like velvet soaked in wine. "The way your hands moved around her waist. The way she leaned into you…"
I didn't say anything. Couldn't.
She stepped into the water with me, completely unbothered by the heat—or the rules.
"You made her feel wanted," she said, closer now. "And something about that… I don't know. It sparked something in me."
She didn't wait for a response. She didn't ask.
She reached out, fingertips brushing against my chest.
And I didn't move.
Her touch was cold. Not in a lifeless way—but like chilled silk on burning skin. Refreshing. Dangerous.
When I didn't stop her, she came closer, pressing her body gently to mine. Wet skin against wet skin. Her lips barely an inch from mine. "I want to feel that too."
Then she kissed me.
And I responded.
My hands moved instinctively, one sliding up her back, the other curling beneath her thigh. I lifted her with ease, pinning her gently against the tiled wall as the hot water cascaded down on us both.
She moaned into my mouth, legs wrapping around my waist, her hands in my hair. Her fangs grazed my lip—but never broke skin.
Our breaths mixed with steam.
Time slowed.
And somewhere between the heat, the scent, and the pounding in my chest…
Everything else faded.
---
The morning sun bathed the academy's training grounds in a golden hue. I stretched lazily, still sore from everything the past few days had thrown at me—magical seductions, teasing classes, strange power assessments, and, of course, the unsettling feeling that the headmistress still had her hooks under my skin.
I just wanted a quiet morning of training.
Spoiler: I didn't get one.
"Ah, you must be Jin," a voice purred from behind the archery range. A woman stepped into view—tall, athletic, and unfairly beautiful. Her hair was braided back, her arms toned, and her eyes sparkled like she knew far more than she was letting on.
"I'm Aris. I'll be your archery instructor for this term."
I nodded. "Nice to meet you."
She smirked. "Let's see how steady those hands of yours are."
Aris handed me a beautifully crafted bow and a single arrow. I took it, feeling the polished wood hum faintly in my grip.
"Stand like this," she instructed, stepping behind me. "Feet apart, shoulders relaxed."
I adjusted.
"No, no…" she chuckled. "Like this."
She moved in close—too close. Her hands slid over mine, correcting my grip. Her chest pressed firmly into my back as she leaned in, her voice brushing my ear.
"Archery's all about control," she whispered. "Breathing. Focus."
I nodded stiffly, very aware of the curve of her body against mine. Every inhale brought her chest tighter into my shoulder blades. Every exhale was warm against my neck.
"Pull," she said, her hands guiding mine.
I drew the string back, her arms still around me. My heart was beating like crazy, and I was pretty sure she could feel it. The arrow wobbled.
"Steady," she murmured. "Don't get distracted."
That was rich, coming from her.
She let me go just in time for me to release the arrow, which, miraculously, actually hit the target—though barely.
"Not bad," Aris said, stepping in front of me, her eyes trailing deliberately downward before flashing back up with a smirk. "But next time, try not to shake so much."
I wasn't sure if she meant my hands… or something else entirely.
---
After archery, I headed across the courtyard to the open-air martial arena, where a small group of new students were already warming up.
"Over here," a firm voice called out.
The martial arts instructor was a dark-haired woman with piercing eyes, lean muscles, and a predatory grace. She wore a tight black gi that left little to the imagination.
"I'm Kaela," she said, crossing her arms. "You'll spar with me today. Let's see what kind of foundation you've got."
Her version of "foundation" apparently meant intimate correction.
"Your stance is wide," she murmured, stepping behind me. Her hands touched my hips. "Here. Pull in. Stay centered."
Her fingers slid along my spine, correcting posture.
"Relax your shoulders," she said, stepping in front of me now—far too close. "Like this."
Her hand slid under my arm and across my chest. I flinched.
"Still tense," she teased.
We circled each other, and I braced for a test spar. Kaela lunged quickly, and I reacted on instinct, blocking—grabbing her wrist—and then accidentally brushing her chest in the process.
She didn't flinch. Didn't scowl.
She smiled.
"Careful," she whispered. "If you grope me mid-spar, I might think you're doing it on purpose."
My face flushed. "Sorry. That was—"
She ducked in again before I could finish, sweeping my legs and sending me crashing into the mat. I groaned.
She leaned down over me, one hand braced beside my head, the other resting on my chest.
"Don't apologize," she said with a wink. "Unless you don't plan on doing it again."
Was everyone here like this?
---
By the time training ended, I was drenched in sweat, sore, and more confused than ever. Not just about the classes or power rankings—but about the women here. Each one seemed to blur the line between student, seductress, and something dangerously in between.
And somehow, I had a feeling this was just the beginning.
---