HIDDEN WOLF

Before the high gates of Shadowridge Academy, Lyria Draegor stood and clung to the strap of her bag, as if for dear life, while the iron gate stood above her, embedded with thorns and roses in an intricate design. Beyond the gate lay the sprawling grounds of the academy. It was her first day, and the weight of it was almost too much to bear, so she readjusted the collar of her blazer, constricting even in the cool morning air, and her fingers brushed against the vial in her pocket; a medicine that acted as a suppressant, a bitter reminder of the "illness" her parents insisted she had. "Don't draw attention to yourself, Lyria," she could almost hear her father's voice as she tried to steady herself. Darian Draegor was a man of sharp edges, both in demeanor and appearance, his stern gaze enough to keep her in line for most of her sixteen years. "Shadowridge is not the place to stand out." Her mother, Evelyn, had been gentler; her touch had lingered upon Lyria's cheek as she whispered, "Stay safe, my darling," before they dropped her off. There was ever a shadow of concern in Evelyn's blue eyes, and Lyria couldn't shake the feeling that it was more than motherly concern. Taking a deep breath, she moved through the gates and into the unknown. The grand main hall also had a vaulted ceiling decorated with murals of battles between humans and vampires; it was a reminder of the uneasy alliance that now defined society. Students streamed past her in groups, their conversations a low hum punctuated by laughter and the odd sharp command from a vampire, and it didn't take long for her to notice the divide. The vampire students dominated the space in the same uniforms, yet effortless elegance danced across their faces as they moved with predatory grace, eyes glinting with amusement as they surveyed the human students who gave them a wide berth. There were the elites among the humans — those from rich families who mixed cautiously with the vampires — and there were the ordinary students who kept their heads down and stayed out of the way; Lyria fell into the latter category, as her father had made abundantly clear. "Lyria!" a cheerful voice called, and she turned to see Talia Calloway, her best friend since childhood, hurrying towards her. Talia's chestnut hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her hazel eyes flashed with excitement as she flung her arms around Lyria. "Can you believe this place?" she said, falling into step beside her. "It's like walking into a vampire's lair." "That's because it is a vampire's lair," Lyria replied with a wry smile, though she couldn't help but marvel at the sheer scale of the academy. Talia laughed as they continued to walk. "Point taken. Still, it's better than our old school. At least here we can dream about dating a brooding vampire prince." "Not interested," Lyria said, though she couldn't quite deny the strange pull that centered in her chest when one of them passed, their presence stirring something deep inside her that she couldn't quite explain. She brushed the thought aside as another voice called her name, and she turned to see Callan Ashford jogging towards her, his sandy blond hair falling into his eyes and his lopsided grin instantly putting her at ease. Callan was her boyfriend, though their relationship was still new and tentative, and he wasn't especially tall or muscular, but there was something solid and dependable about him that Lyria liked. "Hey," he said, brushing a quick kiss against her cheek. "Ready for the first day of madness? “As ready as I’ll ever be,” Lyria replied, feeling a little more at ease with Talia and Callan by her side as the three of them navigated the labyrinthine halls to find their lockers and classes. Lyria couldn’t help but notice the lingering stares of some of the vampire students, and one boy, in particular, with silver hair and piercing green eyes, seemed to look right through her. Turning quickly aside, a senseless rush of fear mixed with curiosity. As noon approached, Lyria fell into the rhythm of the day, but the undercurrents of friction in the social dynamic of the school couldn't be wholly avoided as she and her friends took a table along the windows in the large dining hall, where the sun shone in but seemed to mute in the presence of the vampires. “Do you think they really drink blood here?” Talia whispered, nodding toward a table of vampires that seemed to command the room. "Probably," Callan said. "But only the synthetic stuff. They're not allowed to feed on humans anymore. "Doesn't mean they don't," Talia said, her voice dropping lower. "I heard a rumor that one of the vampires at the academy got expelled last year for biting a human." Lyria listened to their conversation, but her attention wandered, the room filled with a cacophony of voices, and her ears latched on to the quietest sounds - the rustle of fabric, the faint hum of a heartbeat - and she shook her head to gather herself. "Lyria?" Callan's voice pulled her back. "You okay?" "Yeah," she said quickly. "Just tired. You've been tired a lot lately," Talia said, her brow furrowing. "Are you sure those pills your parents make you take aren't making it worse?" Lyria stiffened. "They're fine. It's just. part of my condition." Talia looked like she wanted to press further, but Callan nudged her. "Give her a break, Talia. First day and all," he said, and Lyria shot him a grateful smile. Her last class of the day was history, a subject she generally liked, and the teacher, a strict woman named Ms. Thorn, started off by saying, "The treaties that ended the centuries-long war between humans and vampires. "Shadowridge Academy was founded to foster unity," Ms. Thorn said as her voice boomed across the room. "Here, humans and vampires learn side by side, preparing to lead the next generation into a future of cooperation." Lyria bit back the urge to roll her eyes, because if the divide in the dining hall had made one thing clear, it was that unity was more an ideal than a reality. As the lecture wore on, however, she felt a strange sensation-like there was an itch under her skin-and turning her head to scan the room, she saw the silver-haired vampire from downstairs was in her class; his green eyes were narrowed slightly as he watched her. She looked away, concen­trating on her notes, but the sensation didn't leave. It wasn't just the staring; it was as if she could feel his presence, an energy humming the air between them, and when the final bell finally rang, she hastened out of the room, hoping to flee. Outside, it was the cooling evening breeze, relieved from the stifling classroom air. Lyria made her way towards the bus stop where Callan and Talia were waiting. "You survived," Callan said with a grin. "Barely," Lyria replied, her mind still fresh with the silver-haired vampire. "Don't forget we have that party this weekend," Talia said. "You're coming, right?" "Perhaps," Lyria replied, not too sure she was ready yet for more socializing, especially as the scene would no doubt be dominated by the vampires. But as they spoke, she felt that peculiar tingling sensation on the back of her neck. She turned, but the street behind them was empty, yet the feeling that someone was watching her did not go away. Later that night, as she lay in bed, Lyria replayed the events of her day over and over in her mind. Her mind continued to wander back to the vampires-the strange energy she felt, the unease that settled in her chest. There was something her parents weren't telling her, and always different, even among humans, she learned to push those feelings aside. Now impossible to ignore at Shadowridge, she reached under her pillow for the vial of suppressants, rolled one between her fingers a moment before setting it back in the vial, and for the very first time, wondered what would happen if she didn't take the suppressants.