Eris woke up to the sound of screeching.
Not the normal kind—like alarm clocks or banshee roommates—no, this was avian. Loud. Angry. Possibly homicidal. She blinked into the morning gloom and saw a crow standing on her chest, glaring at her like she owed it money.
"Seriously?" she muttered, pushing it off.
The crow squawked, dropped a dead mouse on her pillow, and flew out the open window.
"Welcome to Darkmoor," she grumbled, wiping sleep from her eyes. "Where even the wildlife is extra."
Across the room, Marina was floating four inches above her bed with earbuds in, murmuring a lullaby in Greek. Viola was snoring softly, clutching a pink plush bunny with a skull bow.
Eris rolled out of bed, stretched, and mentally prepared herself for another day of surviving supernatural high school.
Breakfast was served in the Hall of Hunger, which was essentially a haunted cathedral crossed with a five-star buffet. The ceiling was enchanted to reflect the weather (perpetual storm), the stained glass windows depicted mythological murders, and the food… was alarmingly diverse.
You had your basic fare: eggs, toast, mystery cereal.
Then there was the... other table.
Blood packs chilled on ice. Raw meat glistened in silver trays. Something green and wriggling was labeled "Bog Yogurt (Cursed, Low-Fat)."
Eris took her tray and headed for the "Questionably Mortal" section, sticking to toast and tea.
She hadn't even sat down when a group of students parted like the Red Sea. They were avoiding someone—tall, pale, gliding forward like a specter in black.
Damien Ravencourt. Resident vampire. Allegedly 300 years old. Possibly allergic to smiling.
He wore a long coat that trailed behind him like mist, and his eyes were the color of old blood. His presence sucked all sound out of the room. And then—he sat down directly across from her.
Eris raised an eyebrow. "Bold move. You know I'm the scandalous human, right?"
Damien tilted his head slightly. "You smell… odd."
"Thanks. It's called deodorant."
His lips twitched. Barely.
She narrowed her eyes. "You're not going to try and drink my blood or something, are you? Because I'm not into that before second period."
"I don't feed on students," he said evenly. "It's forbidden."
"That's comforting."
"But if I did… yours would be interesting."
She gave him a flat stare.
"…Kidding," he added, though his tone remained vampire-deadpan.
"Do you always start conversations like this, or am I just lucky?"
He ignored the question, gaze flicking toward the other students watching them like they were witnessing a car crash. "They're afraid of you."
"I'm used to it."
"You don't belong here."
"Also used to that."
He studied her a moment longer. Then, with absolutely no warning, he pushed a tiny box across the table.
It was a black velvet case, like one you'd expect a cursed ring or sinister amulet to come in.
Eris eyed it. "What's this? A surprise engagement?"
"It's an enchanted pin," he said. "Wards off lesser curses. I made it myself."
She hesitated, then opened the box.
Inside was a small brooch shaped like a wolf and a moon, carved from silver and obsidian. It was beautiful. A little too beautiful.
"Why?" she asked quietly. "You don't even know me."
"Because something's following you," Damien said. "And I'd rather not have to explain your disappearance to the staff."
Later that day, Eris found herself in Forbidden Botany, where the plants were sentient, the teacher was blindfolded (allegedly to avoid mind control), and her gloves kept trying to escape.
"Careful with the devil's ivy," the professor warned. "It feeds on confidence."
The ivy in Eris's pot immediately wilted.
She was about to snip a thorn from a Vexroot vine when a shadow fell over her.
Damien.
Again.
"Are you stalking me?" she asked.
"I'm attending class."
"Suspiciously close to me."
He didn't respond, just reached into his cloak and handed her something wrapped in parchment.
She opened it to find a small bottle labeled Eclipsed Essence.
"Potion," he explained. "For when you can't sleep."
She squinted. "Are you trying to be… nice to me?"
"I don't try," he said. "I just do."
By the time the lunch bell rang, rumors had already evolved.
"They're dating.""She put him under a spell.""He gave her a bottle of vampire tears!""She bit him!"
Eris found it all absurd. Damien was interesting—sure—but he was also… unsettling. Like he was always three thoughts ahead and not all of them were in this world. Still, she couldn't deny the comfort of his quiet presence. In a school full of chaos and teeth, he was oddly… still.
They walked together to Magical History, where the teacher's face changed depending on the topic. Today, she looked like a 12th-century nun. The topic was "Magical Anomalies and the Precursor War."
Damien sat next to her again. Eris pretended not to care.
Midway through class, the lights flickered.
A chill swept through the room. Students stiffened.
"Do you feel that?" Damien murmured.
Eris nodded slowly.
Something was watching her again. Same as on the roof. Same presence.
Only this time—it felt closer.
"Everyone remain seated," the professor warned.
The shadows at the back of the room thickened. Eris's heartbeat slowed. Not sped up—slowed. Like time was stalling just for her.
And then it whispered, just for her:
"You're remembering too quickly."
She jerked back in her seat, knocking over her ink pot.
Damien caught her wrist before it could hit the floor.
"Breathe," he said softly.
She hadn't realized she'd stopped.
After class, Damien walked her toward the East Tower library.
"What was that thing?" she asked.
"I don't know," he admitted. "But it didn't like that you recognized it."
"I didn't recognize it. I don't even know what I am."
He glanced at her. "Are you sure about that?"
Eris stopped walking. "Do you know something?"
"No. But I suspect things. You're not just a human girl with bad luck, Eris. You're something else. And this school was built to contain things like you—not welcome them."
Eris looked down at the pin he gave her, still attached to her collar. It pulsed faintly, warm to the touch.
"Why are you helping me?" she whispered.
For the first time, he hesitated. "Because… I think you're the reason I woke up."
That night, unable to sleep (even with the potion), Eris sat by her window and stared at the forest below.
Darkmoor wasn't just a school. It was a cage. Not for the monsters—but for whatever scared them.
Her.
She pulled her knees to her chest and listened to the wind sing through the trees.
In the hallway, she heard soft footsteps. Then a knock.
She opened the door.
Damien stood there, moonlight at his back. No coat. Just a gray shirt, black pants, and that unreadable expression.
"I had a dream," he said.
"About me?"
"No. About the gate under the school."
Eris frowned. "What gate?"
"There's a sealed chamber beneath the West Wing. I don't know how I know. I just… do."
Eris stepped into the hallway.
Damien held out his hand.
"Let's find it."
They snuck through the castle past midnight, avoiding patrolling ghouls and whispering portraits. They crossed into the forbidden section of the West Wing, where even the ghosts refused to float.
Finally, they found it.
A sealed door of black stone. No handle. No lock. Just a sigil carved into the center.
Eris touched it.
The stone pulsed.
The symbol glowed.
And the door shivered.
Something behind it stirred—slow and ancient.
Damien pulled her back. "It's reacting to you."
"I didn't mean to—"
"I don't think it cares."
The glow faded. The door went still.
They stood in silence.
Eris touched the pin at her collar again.
Whatever was behind that door—it knew her.
And it wanted her to remember.
As they crept back to their dorms, Damien finally asked:
"Are you afraid?"
Eris thought about it.
"I think I should be. But mostly… I feel like I've been here before."
He looked at her for a long time. "Then maybe it's time you stop pretending you're normal."
She didn't respond.
Because maybe he was right.
And maybe the real question wasn't what Eris Valemont was.
But why she was waking up now.