TWELVE: THE IMPRINT
1755 Words
[KIERAN POINT OF VIEW]
"Who in their right mind invented these stupid things? Look at this—choking devices disguised as fashion!" Cael wrestled with his tie like it was a venomous snake, groaning loud enough to echo through the hideout.
"You're supposed to wear it around your neck, not strangle yourself with it," I muttered, adjusting the stiff collar of my own uniform in front of the cracked mirror.
"Oh, shut up," Cael grumbled, the tie hanging crookedly as he flailed with it. "I'm a fighter, not some schoolboy doll."
Zelira finally snapped, marching over. "Hold still, idiot." She tugged the tie straight, pulling it so tight Cael gagged dramatically.
"Zel!" he coughed, clutching at his throat. "Trying to kill me before we even set foot in class?"
Her smirk was wicked as she patted the now-perfect knot. "There you go, almost makes you look civilized."
Cael slumped back, muttering under his breath. "Rogues and blades, I can handle. But neckties? That's where I draw the line."
Zelira shot him a withering. "Please. You whine more about fabric than you do about open wounds. Maybe I should just strangle you with it and save us all the noise."
Cael coughed dramatically, clawing at the knot while grinning. "See? This is why no one's ever gonna marry you, Zel."
I leaned against the wall, watching them with a faint smile tugging at my lips.
For a moment, the weight pressing on my chest eased.
Their banter, their ridiculous bickering—it was familiar.
The brief humor did little to cut the tension pressing in on us.
The morning air inside our hideout was heavy, the silence carrying the weight of what lay ahead.
I turned back to the mirror, tugging at my collar again.
The fabric felt wrong—too clean, too polished, like a costume I had no right to wear.
For a fleeting moment, my reflection blurred into another memory: the academy I'd grown up in, not this human place.
Our days there had never been about neat ties or spotless uniforms. We learned to cage the monster under our skin, to shift without tearing ourselves apart.
Classes were filled with snarling, blood, the sting of silver, and lessons on how to fight hunters who would rather see us dead.
Discipline, dominance, survival—that was the core of our schooling.
Not... algebra or human literature.
But now here I was, wearing a blazer, trying to blend into a world that had no idea what kind of predator was sitting quietly among them.
On the small table lay the real card we had found, edges still smudged with dirt from the forest.
I picked it up again, staring at her face.
Liora Şilen.
The name still burned in my chest.
Zelira adjusted her blazer with precise, sharp movements.
Thanks to her and to her connection. She had handled everything in just a days.
The forged papers, the enrollment, even our placement in the same section as Liora.
Cael finally wrestled his tie loose enough to breathe, then slumped back in his chair with a groan. "But seriously—do we really need to act like students? We could just march in, find the girl, and be done with it. Faster. Easier."
Zelira rolled her eyes. "Then what? Announce ourselves to every teacher and student? You think Elric won't notice three strangers snooping around his hunting ground?"
I straightened my blazer, meeting Cael's gaze in the cracked mirror. "We're not only there for her. Elric will come for her—it's only a matter of time. If we want to stop him, we have to be there first. Close enough to protect her... and close enough to catch him."
Cael drummed his fingers against the table, still restless. "So, blend in. Pretend we're normal. No fights, no claws, no broken bones in the middle of the hallway."
Zelira's eyes narrowed. "Exactly. We're in human territory now. One mistake, one slip, and it won't just be Elric we're fighting—it'll be every human who sees something they shouldn't."
Cael groaned dramatically. "Rogues would be easier than algebra..."
Zelira ignored him, smoothing her blazer one last time. "Honestly, I like this uniform better than the ones we wore back at the pack school. At least these don't smell like damp training mats." She glanced over at me, lips pressing into a thin line.
Before I could ask, she crossed the room and set something on the table in front of me. Glasses.
I frowned. "What's this?"
"Put them on," she ordered, reaching up to brush a hand through my hair, flattening the wild strands I hadn't bothered with.
I caught her wrist lightly, scowling. "Why do I need to wear this? Do I look blind to you?"
Zelira arched a brow. "No. You look intimidating. Too sharp, too much alpha in your face. If we walk into that school with you looking like this, you'll have every human girl whispering, every boy glaring, and worse—every teacher wondering why you don't belong." She nudged the glasses toward me again. "Tone it down. Blend in. Nothing about you can stand out, Kieran. Not here."
Cael snorted, leaning back with a grin. "Translation, you're too handsome for your own good, future alpha. Consider it camouflage."
Zelira shot him a look sharp enough to cut.
I sighed, sliding the glasses on. The world blurred slightly at the edges, but Zelira's expression softened just a fraction as she stepped back, studying me like she was painting over a dangerous sign with something plain.
"Better," she murmured. For a moment, I almost smiled.
"Never thought I'd see the day," Cael muttered from the corner, already dressed. He twirled the school identification card Zelira had forged for him and smirked. "The future alpha of the Nightfang pack... playing college student, what a downgrade."
I arched a brow, smirking.
"Coming from the Beta's son who can't even fix his tie? I'm not the only one playing college student here."
Cael froze mid-adjustment, glanced down at his messy tie, then back at Kieran. His eyes widened in mock horror. "Wait—so that means... I'm downgraded too? Damn it. I thought I was the undercover hot guy, not the struggling freshman."
Zelira snapped her book shut, her glare sharp enough to slice him in half.
"Hot guy? Please. You look like you lost a fight with your closet."
Cael clutched his chest dramatically, stumbling back a step. "Ouch. Right in the ego. You wound me, Zel."
I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose, then slung my bag over my shoulder.
Faint smile tugged at my lips as their banter echoed around us. "Let's go," I said, and they fell into step beside me.
Hindi Then we finally stepped out of the hideout, the weight of our disguises heavier than the uniforms themselves.
The forest gave way to the winding road that led us straight to the gates of Lunaris School.
The moment the building came into view, even I had to pause.
It towered above us, its stone walls gleaming under the sun, wide archways lined with banners that rippled in the breeze.
The place looked less like a school and more like a palace carved for the children of the rich.
The kind of world that had nothing to do with us.
"Damn," Cael muttered, whistling low. "Looks like we walked into a castle. Bet they charge extra for breathing their air."
Zelira adjusted her bag higher on her shoulder, unimpressed. "Focus. We're not here to admire the architecture."
Cael ignored her, leaning close with a grin. "If she studies here, then Liora Şilen isn't just rare-blooded—she's got money too. Rich girl in a palace-school." He elbowed me, his smirk widening. "You're really lucky, Kieran. Of all the people who could've saved your life, it just had to be her."
I didn't reply. My eyes kept roaming over the glass windows and tall towers, but the awe quickly curdled into irritation.
The students scattered across the courtyard—laughing, gossiping, flaunting their neat uniforms and expensive bags—reminded me of wolves circling in a pack, all sharp edges beneath their smiles.
Zelira's lips curled as her gaze swept over them. "Palace school? Not even five minutes in and I already hate it here. Look at them—spoiled, loud, and walking like the ground owes them something."
They had no idea. No idea of the blood staining the forest just outside their gates.
No idea that danger had already seeped into their world.
Then we followed the flow of students deeper into the courtyard until the chatter sharpened, a cruel edge cutting through the laughter.
The crowd thickened near the center, bodies pressed tight in a circle.
Zelira's eyes narrowed, disbelief flickering across her face, though her tone stayed flat, unimpressed. "Seriously? This is what passes for entertainment here? Humans—always finding new ways to prove how pathetic they can be."
Cael craned his neck, curiosity sparking. "Doesn't sound like a welcoming committee."
The three of us pushed through, the ring of students parting just enough for the scene to bare itself.
One girl knelt on the ground, her uniform smeared with dirt, her bag flung aside like garbage. Jeers and laughter rained down with every object thrown—crumbled papers, bottles, scraps of food.
But she didn't beg. Didn't plead. Her shoulders trembled, not from fear, but from the strain of someone refusing to shatter.
But then—she lifted her head.
The world stopped.
Her eyes—wide, defiant, burning through the grime—locked with mine.
In that instant, something inside me snapped.
Heat tore through my chest, rushing through my veins like fire. My pulse thundered so hard it drowned out the jeers, the laughter, even my own thoughts.
The ground felt unsteady beneath me, my breath torn from my lungs.
Imprint.
It wasn't gentle. It wasn't soft. It was brutal—like chains snapping into place, like the universe itself had chosen and it didn't care if I was ready.
Her face seared into me, every detail branded into my soul as if I had always known her.
The world dimmed until there was only her—her eyes, her defiance, her trembling shoulders.
I hadn't expected it. I hadn't even believed it would happen to me this way. But now... there was no undoing it.
Every instinct screamed the truth I could no longer fight.
Liora Şilen.
Mine.
- Writer
