BRRRRRRIIIIING!
The school bell shrieked through the hallway, echoing off lockers and tiled floors.
"Zyla!" someone shouted.
Her head jerked up from her desk.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, sweat dripping down her neck.
Her hands trembled.
Her heart pounded like she had been running for her life.
Not a dream.
Not this time.
It felt like a memory.
A cottage.
Snow.
Screams.
Light and shadow ripping apart the sky.
A woman with horns crying her name—
She blinked hard, struggling to breathe.
"I have to find a job today if I'm ever going to leave my parents," she muttered under her breath, annoyed and trying to shake the feeling off.
Her teacher looked up sharply.
"Wait until school is out, Zyla."
The entire class burst into laughter.
Zyla rolled her eyes and slid her books into her bag.
Just another day of people acting normal while her body felt like it remembered something she wasn't supposed to.
As she stepped into the hallway, her best friend Kenna swooped in, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.
"You okay?" Kenna asked.
"You look like you ran through a storm."
"Yeah, just… didn't sleep," Zyla lied.
Kenna walked her toward their next class, gossiping and laughing, grounding Zyla just enough to breathe normally again.
But halfway down the hall—
"Actually, go ahead without me," Zyla said quickly. "I need the restroom."
Kenna nodded and rushed off.
Zyla stepped into the bathroom, the world suddenly too quiet.
Her stomach twisted.
A nervous, heavy feeling — like something inside her wanted out.
She gripped the sink.
"What is wrong with me?"
Then—
The ground shook.
A violent tremor ripped through the room, rattling the stalls, vibrating the pipes in the walls.
Zyla stumbled, gripping the metal divider as the floor rolled beneath her feet.
"What the—?" she gasped.
"Rough ride…"
Ten seconds of shaking.
Then silence.
Her breathing slowed.
She forced herself to the mirror.
She washed her hands…
And froze.
The water swirling in the sink turned black.
Thick.
Dark.
Like the abyss itself.
Zyla leaned closer, confused, her breath fogging the glass.
"What is that…?"
Then the blackness rippled—
A demonic face lunged out of the mirror.
Zyla screamed.
The mirror exploded outward, shards raining across the tiles. The lights flickered violently then died, plunging the bathroom into darkness.
Shadows crawled along the walls — long, twisting shapes reaching for her.
NOPE.
Zyla ran.
She burst out of the bathroom door and slammed straight into someone — hard enough to knock the breath from her chest.
"Woah—easy!" the boy said, grabbing her arms to steady her.
Tall.
Long dark hair.
Striking green eyes.
Nervous smile.
Keuirseu.
He started talking fast, words tumbling over each other.
"Sorry! Sorry—first day of school, I swear I'm not usually in the way, or, well, maybe I am but—wow, are you okay? You look pale—like ghost pale—did I hurt you? I don't know if I should let go or hold on—"
He finally stopped long enough for her to speak.
"Did you… feel that earthquake?" Zyla asked, voice shaking.
Keuirseu blinked.
"Earthquake?"
He looked around.
Students walked normally.
Teachers scolded kids.
Phones buzzed.
Books slammed shut.
Everyone acted like nothing happened.
Zyla stared, her heart dropping.
"You didn't feel anything?"
"Nope," he said gently.
"Not even a tiny shake."
And in the darkest corner of the hallway—
a shadow moved.
Watching her.
Recognizing her.
The beginning of her awakening had already begun.
Keuirseu kept talking — fast, excited, a waterfall of words — trying to make Zyla feel better after the bathroom incident.
"So yeah, I moved here yesterday, and I kind of got lost twice, and—"
A sharp voice cut him off.
"Keuirseu," Constant snapped, barely glancing over his shoulder,
"stop talking to every clown you meet."
Zyla froze.
The hallway went quiet around her for a second, her breath catching in her throat.
Clown.
He had called her a clown.
Not weird.
Not different.
Not even annoying.
A clown.
A hot sting hit her chest — sharper than it should have. She didn't know why that word hit so deep. Maybe because she already felt off today. Maybe because her life felt like it was cracking around her.
Or maybe because something old inside her recognized disrespect… and didn't like it.
Benjamin stepped in fast, running a hand over his face.
"Seriously? Can you not insult people before lunch, Constant?"
Constant didn't even stop walking.
Didn't apologize.
Didn't turn around.
He just shrugged one shoulder.
"She's loud. And he talks too much. I'm doing the world a favor."
Zyla's jaw tightened.
"Wow," she muttered. "Rude."
Benjamin nodded sympathetically.
"Welcome to knowing Constant."
Cyrus didn't even look up at them — he was too busy flirting with another girl by the lockers.
Keuirseu sighed dramatically.
"He's not always like this."
Zyla raised an eyebrow.
"You sure? Because he seems world-champion-level rude."
Keuirseu laughed nervously — but something inside Zyla still burned where the insult hit.
And far down the hall…
The demon teen smirked.
He had seen the moment Constant struck her nerve — the flicker of darkness in her eyes, the flash of something ancient.
He whispered to himself:
"Found you."
Zyla marched toward the lunchroom with her books hugged against her chest, irritation buzzing under her skin like a swarm of angry bees.
She didn't even remember the walk there — she was too annoyed, too embarrassed, too frustrated.
A clown.
He really called her that.
Keuirseu, Benjamin, Cyrus, and even Constant trailed behind her at varying distances.
Not following her.
Just… orbiting her like problems waiting to happen.
She dropped into her usual seat at the lunch table and slumped down with a groan.
Kenna plopped beside her instantly.
"Heeeeey!" Kenna sang, practically vibrating with excitement. "Okay, girl, have you SEEN those new dudes today? Total eye candy—"
"I know," Zyla muttered darkly, stabbing a straw into her juice box.
"That one is on my kill list."
She didn't point, but her eyes were locked on Constant, sitting at the far end of the cafeteria, eating like he owned the whole building.
Kenna followed her gaze and gasped.
"HIM? The tall one in black?"
Her expression flipped from heart-eyed admiration to instant fury.
"WHAT DID HE DO TO YOU?"
Zyla winced.
"Kenna, do not—"
Too late.
Kenna stormed toward Constant like a five-foot-tall hurricane, hair bouncing, fists clenched.
"HEY!" she shouted across the cafeteria, loud enough that half the students turned.
"What'd you say about my girl?!"
Zyla slapped both hands over her face.
"Oh my god—Kenna—please—"
She jumped up and ran after her, grabbing her friend from behind and trying to drag her backward.
But Kenna was unstoppable.
Constant didn't even look bothered.
He didn't look up.
He just kept eating.
"Oh cool," he said casually, glancing at Zyla.
"The circus came."
Zyla's eyes widened in horror.
"STOP—BEING—MEAN," Benjamin scolded as he sat down across from Constant, sounding like a tired babysitter.
Cyrus looked up from flirting long enough to add,
"Bro, you have the charm of a brick."
Kenna grabbed the nearest lunch tray without thinking.
Before Zyla could stop her—
WHACK!
She swung the tray at Constant's head.
But Constant simply caught it mid-swing, one hand, eyebrow raised.
He didn't flinch.
Didn't blink.
He just gave the tiniest chuckle — barely there, but enough to make Kenna freeze.
Then he stood, towering over her, unfazed.
Kenna's anger disappeared so fast she looked like she forgot how to breathe.
She stood there frozen, tray still in her hands, staring at him like an idiot.
Constant turned and walked away without a word.
Not angry.
Not impressed.
Just bored.
Zyla, mortified beyond repair, ducked under Kenna's arm and sneaked back to her table. She sat down, palms over her face.
"This is the worst day of my life," she whispered.
Kenna slowly shuffled back, dazed.
"I hit him with a tray," she said blankly.
"And he… caught it."
Zyla peeked through her fingers.
"Yes. Yes, he did."
Far across the cafeteria, the demon teen watched Zyla again — eyes narrowing, a smile stretching slowly across his face.
"Still angry…" he murmured.
"Good. That makes her easier to read."
And Zyla had no idea how close she already was to danger.
Zyla kept her hands over her face, wishing she could sink into the cafeteria floor and evaporate into the vents.
Kenna stood beside her, still recovering from her tray-swinging, pride-shattering moment.
"Zyla," Kenna whispered, "I swear his skull is made of titanium."
Zyla groaned.
"I never want to see that man again."
But that wasn't going to happen.
Not with Constant.
He had walked away like he didn't care, like hitting him with a tray was a normal Tuesday.
He sat back down at a table near the edge of the cafeteria — alone — hood up, phone in his hand, posture relaxed.
Unbothered.
Except…
He kept glancing up.
Not obvious.
Not lingering.
Just quick, sharp flickers of his eyes toward Zyla's table.
Every few seconds.
He'd look down at his phone, scroll, pretend he was focused…
Then his eyes shifted.
Right back to her.
Zyla didn't notice.
But Kenna did.
She narrowed her eyes.
"Ohhhh, no. NO. He's watching you."
Zyla looked up fast.
"What?! Where!?"
Kenna tried to subtly point with her chin.
Constant instantly looked away — pretending to stare at a wall, chewing slowly, like he was the picture of boredom.
Zyla blinked.
"No way. He hates me."
"Girl," Kenna said, lowering her voice, "guys like that only pay attention to two things: trouble… and girls who get under their skin."
Zyla scoffed.
"I don't get under his skin."
Kenna smirked.
"You made him blink."
Zyla gaped.
"…Wow. Award-winning observation."
But Kenna was right.
Constant did blink.
Once.
Then he looked again.
This time longer.
His jaw tightened.
His nostrils flared — the smallest reaction, but there.
He watched the way Zyla pushed her hair behind her ear, the way she slumped in irritation, the way her fingers tapped the table in growing anxiety.
There was something about her that bothered him.
Something he couldn't name.
Something he couldn't ignore.
Benjamin noticed too.
He leaned toward Constant, whispering:
"You're staring, man."
"I'm observing," Constant muttered.
Cyrus grinned.
"Josephe thing."
Constant glared at them.
"I don't care about her."
Benjamin raised an eyebrow.
"Then why do you keep looking?"
Constant didn't answer.
Because across the cafeteria…
Zyla was starting to glow.
Just a little.
So faint no one else would notice.
But Constant saw it.
A flicker of shadow-light glimmered under her skin, right along her wrist.
His eyes widened.
"…What are you?" he whispered.
Dyren then makes his move. The cafeteria buzzed with noise — laughter, gossip, trays clattering — but Zyla heard none of it.
Her pulse thumped in her ears.
That uneasy pressure in her stomach had returned.
Like something was pushing up from inside her, wanting out.
Wanting to wake.
Kenna kept rambling about boys and trays and bruised egos, but Zyla barely heard her.
Meanwhile, from across the lunchroom—
Dyren watched.
Still leaning against the locker he'd claimed as his spot.
Still smirking.
Still waiting for the right moment.
Now he finally pushed off the wall.
Slow.
Predatory.
Confident.
His shadow stretched behind him like wings — though only Zyla noticed it. No one else flinched.
He ran a hand through his black hair, straightened his collar, and flashed a smile sharp enough to cut glass.
Cyrus paused mid-flirt.
Benjamin stiffened.
Constant's eyes narrowed.
Keuirseu froze with a sandwich halfway to his mouth.
Even they could sense something wrong about the boy walking toward Zyla.
"Uh-oh," Keuirseu whispered.
"Do you… know him?"
"No," Zyla said, goosebumps crawling up her neck.
"But I think he knows me."
Dyren approached the table like he was entering a stage — smooth, charming, dangerous. Girls turned their heads; boys moved aside without realizing why.
He stopped right in front of Zyla, leaned down slightly, and smirked.
"Well, well," he purred.
"There you are."
Zyla blinked, taken off guard by his boldness.
"Um… sorry, do I know you?"
"Oh, not yet," Dyren said, smile widening.
"But you will."
He reached out and gently brushed a lock of hair behind her ear.
Zyla jerked back instinctively.
Benjamin stood up.
Constant clenched his jaw.
Cyrus actually stopped flirting for once.
Dyren's eyes glowed faintly — just for a second — a color Zyla didn't recognize, like red mixed with smoke.
"You smell… different," he murmured, voice low.
"Special."
Zyla's breath caught.
"What?"
Dyren leaned closer, ignoring everyone else at the table.
"I've been waiting to meet you, Zyla."
Her heart dropped.
"How do you know my name?"
He grinned slowly, dangerously.
"Oh, sweetheart," Dyren whispered.
"I've known your name since before you were even born."
The cafeteria suddenly felt colder.
Zyla swallowed hard.
Constant was already standing now, eyes burning in a way that wasn't human.
"Step back," Constant growled.
Dyren didn't even glance at him.
"No," he said simply.
"This one's mine."
Zyla froze.
Something old inside her stirred.
Dyren smirked as if he felt it.
"There she is," he whispered.
"My little spark of darkness."
And the demon prince made his first claim.
Dyren's fingers hovered near Zyla's cheek, inches from her skin.
Zyla felt her stomach twist — like something ancient was waking inside her, something cold and hot at the Josephe time, something that remembered him before she ever saw his face.
"Don't touch me," she whispered.
Dyren smirked.
"You don't know what you are yet, little star. But I do."
And he reached for her again.
His fingertips brushed the air just a breath away from her skin—
—and the world screamed.
A shockwave ripped across the cafeteria.
Trays flew.
Tables flipped.
Lights exploded overhead.
Students collapsed to their knees, hands over their ears.
Dyren staggered backward, eyes wide.
A black-blue aura erupted around Zyla's body, swirling violently like a storm made of shadow and flame. The air crackled and pulsed as if it couldn't contain her.
Constant flinched, stepping back instinctively.
Benjamin shielded Kenna.
Cyrus froze mid-motion.
Keuirseu whispered, terrified,
"What… what is she…?"
Zyla's eyes rolled back for a moment as something inside her snapped awake.
Her heartbeat thundered—
BOOM.
A burst of dark light blasted outward and slammed Dyren full in the chest.
He flew backward across three tables, shattered a bench, and hit the far wall so hard the plaster cracked around his body.
The entire cafeteria went silent.
Smoke curled off Dyren's chest as he slowly sat up, breathless and stunned.
Then—
He smiled.
A slow, delighted, hungry smile.
"Ohhhh…" Dyren exhaled, wiping blood from his lip.
"There you are."
Zyla clutched the edge of the table, dizzy, terrified, her hands trembling.
"What—what did I just—"
Dyren stood, cracking his neck, eyes glowing red and vicious.
"You still don't remember me, do you?" he whispered.
"Don't worry… you will."
Constant immediately stepped between them, shoulders tense, voice low.
"You're done."
Dyren tilted his head.
"Move, puppy."
Constant's jaw twitched.
But Zyla wasn't looking at them.
Her hand was glowing.
A faint, swirling shadow wrapped around her fingers like smoke alive and wanting. Her palm tingled, burning and freezing at the Josephe time.
"What… is happening to me?" Zyla whispered.
Dyren's eyes darkened with recognition.
"It's happening," he murmured reverently.
"You're waking up."
He took one slow step forward.
Zyla stumbled back so fast Keuirseu caught her arm.
Dyren's grin widened.
"Touch me again," he said softly, "and I'll show you exactly who you are."
Constant snapped.
"BACK OFF."
Dyren laughed softly… but his smile had sharpened.
This wasn't flirting anymore.
This was hunting.