I dragged myself up from the bathroom floor, my knees trembling under me, my chest still tight with the weight of everything that had just happened. I couldn't stay there. If my father heard that I had missed class, it wouldn't be simple punishment, it would be slow, painful, and deliberate. Worse than anything Olivia or Darius had done. That alone forced me to move.
My hands shook as I peeled off my mud-soaked clothes. The fabric clung stubbornly to my skin, heavy and cold, as if it didn't want to let me go.
I turned on the tap and began scrubbing them in the sink, hard too hard.
my fingers quickly turning red from the pressure. Brown water swirled down the drain while my tears slipped quietly into the basin, mixing with the dirt.
I scrubbed like I could erase it all, like I could wash away the memory, the shame, the sound of my own voice in that video. But the stains didn't fully come out. They never do.
I wrung the clothes out and pulled them back onto my body, the damp fabric clinging uncomfortably to my skin. Then I gathered my hair and twisted it into a tight bun, ignoring the sharp sting where Olivia had ripped strands from my scalp.
I could still feel the rawness there, the faint stickiness of dried blood. I didn't look in the mirror. I already knew what I would see, and I couldn't face it.
When I opened the door, Maria stood up immediately. She didn't speak. Her eyes found mine, wide with pain and something deeper, helplessness, maybe even guilt.
Then she stepped forward and pulled me into a tight hug. For a moment, I let myself lean into it, just for a second, letting the warmth ground me before it slipped away.
Then she pulled back without a word. She understood. If anyone saw her with me now, they would turn on her next. That's how this worked.
I lowered my head, shame burning through me, my fists clenched tightly against my skirt as I walked to class.
The moment I stepped inside, the teacher's voice cut through the room. "Mrs. Ivy Richardson, you're late." The entire class turned to look at me at once, and I felt it instantly, they knew. Of course they knew.
Their eyes crawled over me like I was something dirty dragged in from outside.
My gaze shifted without thinking, landing on Darius. He sat beside Olivia, completely at ease, a faint smirk on his lips as if nothing had happened, as if I had meant nothing.
Sasha and her friends stared at me too, their expressions sharp, warning me to stay quiet, to keep my head down.
"I… I'm sorry, Miss Sarah," I stammered, forcing the words out. "I fell into the mud. I had to clean up." A few students laughed under their breath.
"You clumsy girl," she snapped. "Do not repeat this, or I will report you directly to your father."
The words hit instantly. Panic rushed through me. "No—" I moved without thinking, dropping to my knees and clutching her legs. "Please… not my father… I'm sorry, I'm really sorry…"
The room fell quiet, not out of sympathy, but interest. Watching. Waiting.
"It's fine," she said coldly, pulling away from me like I disgusted her. "Take your seat."
I stood slowly, my legs unsteady, and walked to my desk.
The lesson began, but I didn't hear a single word. The teacher's voice blurred into meaningless noise. Maria slid notes toward me, trying to help me keep up, but I barely looked at them. My mind had already drifted somewhere else, somewhere darker, quieter.
Something inside me had gone still, and that silence felt more dangerous than the chaos before it.
****
The bell rang, and I was on my feet immediately. I grabbed my bag and walked quickly out of the classroom, then faster, until I was almost running.
I just needed to get away. "Ivy! Wait!" Maria called after me. I stopped, but I didn't turn until she caught up, breathing hard.
"Why do you let them treat you this way?" she asked, her voice shaking.
"I'm fine," I said automatically.
"No, you're not."
Something in me snapped at that. "What do you want me to do?" I shot back, my voice rising before I could stop it. "What can I do?" She went silent.
"I don't care what happens," she finally said, voice shaking. "I don't care about what you did… I'll never be ashamed of you."
Her lips trembled as she forced the words out.
"We're best friends," she added softly, almost pleading now, "forever. Okay?"
For a moment, I didn't answer.
I patted her on the shoulder, nodded then i turned away and kept running.
****
When i got home, the house was already alive with preparation. Tonight was the feast.
Every other week, important vampires gathered under this roof, laughing, drinking, feeding like it was nothing, this was tradition where my father, the vampire lord reinforces his power and made sure things were in order.
I was supposed to help, but I had nothing left to give.
Not even the strength to pretend. I went straight to my room and collapsed onto the bed. "Let the helps handle it," I muttered under my breath.
Voices drifted through the house as the evening deepened. Laughter, the clink of glasses, low conversations. Then suddenly, my door burst open.
Layla stood there, her expression twisted with irritation. "The feast already started, queen of the house," she sneered. "You're lucky Dad is too busy to notice you didn't help." I didn't respond.
"Talk," she snapped. "Or did you lose your voice?"
"Leave her alone!" Anthony's voice cut in sharply from the hallway. Layla rolled her eyes and walked away, her footsteps fading down the corridor.
A second later, Anthony stepped inside.
He closed the door behind him, and just like that, the tension in the room shifted. Unlike the others, he didn't fill the space with pressure, just presence.
Anthony was Father's first son. Layla's older brother and my step brother.
The heir to everything.
He didn't stay in the mansion like the rest of us. Most of his time was spent at the "MASACAR VAMPIRE COLLEGE". where he was being trained and perfected for succession.
Power, control, discipline… everything Father valued, Anthony was expected to embody.
And somehow…
He was the only one who defended and loved me.
"Ivy…" His voice softened as he walked toward me.
He pulled me into a careful hug, like I was something fragile, something that might shatter if he held on too tightly.
For a moment, I didn't move. I didn't know how to respond to something that felt… gentle.
Then he pulled back slightly, his hand rising to touch my forehead.
His expression tightened instantly when his fingers brushed against the bruise.
"Did Father do this?" he asked, his voice dropping.
"No," I whispered. "This is from College."
His expression darkened instantly. "That's enough. I'm going there tomorrow"
"It doesn't matter," I interrupted quietly. He paused. "It'll be healed by morning. You know that right?." He didn't argue, but he didn't look convinced either.
"I'm fine," I added, forcing the words out. "Please don't get involved." He studied me for a long moment before sighing and pulling me into another hug.
"If you need me, you call me," he said softly. "Anytime." I nodded. He left shortly after, closing the door gently behind him.
I patiently waited.
The night grew deeper. The voices downstairs grew louder. But I wasn't thinking about the feast. I was watching the clock, waiting, counting, until it finally struck midnight.
I walked to the window, and opened it. Cold air rushed in, brushing against my skin, sharp and clean. I stepped out and let go. My body shifted, dissolving into something lighter, darker, no longer solid, no longer bound. I became movement, shadow, a silent presence carried by the wind.
I moved quickly through the mid-night moon until I reached Darius's house. I hovered just outside his window, hidden in the darkness, watching. He was laughing, relaxed, sitting on a video call with Olivia.
His voice was low, easy, intimate like nothing had happened, like I hadn't existed at all.
I watched him carefully, memorizing every detail. The way he smiled. The way he leaned back. The way he looked completely untouched by everything he had done.
Something inside me hardened.
When the call ended and the room went dark, I moved. I slipped inside like a quiet breath of cold air, unnoticed at first. But then the atmosphere shifted. Just slightly.
He felt it.
He froze, then reached quickly for the lamp. Light flooded the room.
"Who's there?" he demanded, his voice no longer steady.
Before he could turn fully, I was already in front of him.
My eyes burned, My fangs extended fully, the hunger rising fast now, sharp and uncontrollable after being buried for so long.
He stumbled back, his face draining of color.
"I… Ivy?" he whispered. "What are you doing here?"
I stepped closer, slow and deliberate, my gaze locked onto his.
"Traitor," I said quietly.
My lips curled slightly, exposing my teeth.
"Your blood…" I continued, my voice low and cold, "…will taste like betrayal."
And then i lunged.