The Vampire King’s Son
The tension in the training hall was palpable, the air thick with anticipation as students squared off against one another in sparring matches. Lyra stood on the edge of the circle, her pulse pounding in her ears.
Her opponent, a wiry vampire with sharp features and an even sharper grin, lunged at her with blinding speed. Lyra dodged, her wolf instincts sharpening her movements. She struck out with a calculated kick, sending him sprawling to the floor.
A chorus of murmurs rippled through the crowd.
“Impressive,” someone said, their tone laced with intrigue. “But… odd.”
Lyra straightened, her breathing steady despite the pounding of her heart. She forced herself to ignore the gazes boring into her as she stepped back, retreating to the edge of the circle.
“Your technique is unconventional.”
The voice was deep, smooth, and commanding. Lyra turned sharply, her silver eyes meeting piercing crimson ones. The owner of the voice stood tall and confident, his dark hair tousled just enough to suggest he didn’t care about the effect it had.
Adrian.
She recognized him instantly—Adrian Drakos, the Vampire King’s son. His name carried weight like thunder, spoken in whispers across the academy halls.
Adrian’s gaze was unrelenting, his presence magnetic in a way that made Lyra’s wolf stir uneasily beneath her skin. She felt exposed under his scrutiny, as though he could see past her carefully constructed facade.
“I’ve never seen a vampire fight quite like that,” Adrian continued, his lips curling into a faint smile. “It’s… raw.”
Lyra swallowed hard, forcing herself to maintain her composure. “I like to keep things interesting,” she replied, her voice steadier than she expected.
Adrian stepped closer, his movements deliberate, like a predator closing in on its prey. Lyra’s heart pounded as her wolf surged forward, a warning growl threatening to rise in her throat. She bit it back, her nails digging into her palms.
He stopped just short of her, his crimson eyes locking onto hers. “Interesting,” he murmured, his tone laced with something that sent a shiver down her spine.
The sparring session ended, but Adrian didn’t leave. As the students dispersed, he moved with quiet precision, intercepting Lyra just as she reached the corridor.
She froze as he cornered her, his hand braced casually against the wall beside her head. His presence was overwhelming, his scent sharp and distinctly vampire, though not unpleasant.
“What are you?” Adrian asked, his voice low and smooth. “And don’t say vampire—I’ll know if you’re lying.”
