bound by the dragon bully

My name is Tanny, and I am the mistake in Blackthorn Academy. The only human. The only one without fangs, without claws, without magic. The only prey in a school built for predators. Setting foot in Blackthorn was the day my life stopped being mine. It was supposed to be a school. It was not. The walls were made of black marble that breathed. I swear it moved when I touched it. The sky above the courtyard wasn't blue — it was a bruised purple, swirling with clouds that never rained. Fireballs floated in the air like lamps. A boy in front of me shifted into a full black wolf and howled. Books with wings flew past my head. I stood in the middle of it all with my cheap shoes and my old, torn traveling bag. Frozen. My mother had held my hand so tight at the gate this morning that her nails left marks on my skin. Her eyes were red. She had been crying all night. "Tanny, are you sure?" she whispered, her voice breaking. "Blackthorn is not for us. The Drakes... they hate our kind. Especially that boy." I remembered the small silver ring she had forced into my palm. Cold and old. "If you feel danger, wear this. Promise me." I had promised. But I didn't understand her fear. Not until now. "Father left a letter," I had told her. "He said I must come here to learn who I really am." She had hugged me like she would never see me again. Now, in this courtyard, I finally understood. I was surrounded by monsters. Sons and daughters of the most powerful clans in the world. Wolves, witches, vampires — creatures that could kill me with a look. And power was the only language they respected. And I had none. I was so busy staring like a fool that I didn't notice them until they were right in front of me. Three girls. They appeared out of thin air with a crackle of blue light. Werewolves. Beautiful in a terrifying way, with long silver hair and eyes that glowed like ice. Their uniforms were perfect, tailored, expensive. Mine was dusty and too big. One of them tilted her head and sniffed the air around me. Her perfect nose wrinkled in disgust. "Are you new here?" she asked, circling me. "You smell... weird. Empty." My heart started to pound so loud I was sure they could hear it. I clutched my bag tighter to my chest. My mother told me never to tell them. Never. But I was scared. I was stupid. I nodded. "I'm a human," I said, my voice small and shaking. "I don't have magic." The words fell out before I could stop them. Her smile died. "What?" The word came out as a snarl. Before I could run, her hand shot out and grabbed my arm. Her claws dug into my skin. She pressed her nose to my neck and inhaled deeply. Then her eyes went wide with horror and excitement. "She has no scent!" she screamed, loud enough for the entire courtyard to hear. "No scent at all! Gods, she's a human! There's a human in Blackthorn!" Her two friends stumbled back from me like I was diseased. The courtyard went dead silent. Every single conversation stopped. Hundreds of heads turned. Yellow eyes. Red eyes. Blue eyes. All glowing. All staring at me. "A human? How did a low-life get in?" "She'll pollute the air!" "Trash! She shouldn't be breathing the same air as us!" I had just announced myself as food in a den of wolves. The girl who held me laughed and shoved me hard. I fell backwards. My old bag tore open and my books — my mother's books — scattered across the black, breathing marble. "Humans must kneel when they see us," she hissed, and magic crackled in her palm, bright blue and deadly. "Let me teach you how power works in the monster world, little human." She raised her hand to strike me. I closed my eyes. And then a voice came from the top of the marble stairs. Cold as ice. Deep as thunder. A voice that made the air itself shake. "Touch her and you lose that hand." Everyone froze. The blue magic in the girl's hand flickered and died. I opened my eyes and looked up. He was standing at the top of the stairs. Kelly Drake. The power among all powers in Blackthorn Academy. The Prince of the Dragon Clan. Tall, with black hair that fell over his forehead and eyes that were pure molten gold. He had his hands in his pockets. He wasn't even using his power, but the ground vibrated under his feet with every breath he took. No one dared to question his authority. No one dared to look him in the eye. And he was looking straight at me. The three werewolf girls immediately dropped to their knees, heads bowed, trembling. He started walking down. Slowly. One step. Another step. Each step echoed like a war drum. He didn't look at anyone else. Only me. And he was not smiling. He was furious. And I didn't know if he had come to save me — or to kill me himself.