The arrival
If there's one thing I've learned, it's that being perfect is exhausting. But being late? That's unacceptable. Especially on the first day of graduation orientation at Sterling Academy.
The morning sun stabbed through my curtains like it had something personal against me. I sat bolt upright, heart racing, and cursed under my breath—well, not out loud. A Sterling doesn't curse. Or sweat. Or show up late.
But the clock blinked 9:36 AM.
"Shit," I heard myself whisper.
My satin hair ribbon—the one my mom used to brush gently through my hair when I was little—lay coiled like a snake on my vanity. I snatched it up, heart aching. I hadn't dreamed of her in months. Her laugh echoed somewhere behind my ears, and for a moment, I didn't want to leave my room at all.
But I had no time to mourn. I was missing orientation. And if I missed orientation, I'd miss the chance to pick my team. I rush down the staircase and find my father in the kitchen eating breakfast. I ask him to drive me there and he agrees.
I always hated goodbyes. Even the small ones, like waving to the barista who knew my name, or the neighbor who always smelled like peppermint. But this—leaving home for good—felt like something was ripping me in half.
Sterling Academy towered in the distance, wrapped in early morning fog like it was keeping secrets. Louisiana heat clung to my skin, but the chill crawling up my spine came from somewhere deeper. This wasn't a normal school, and I wasn't a normal girl.
My father, Matteo, tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "Are you ready, Sofia?"
Was I? I nodded anyway. He gave me a tight, proud smile, the kind he only used when he didn't know what else to say. We both knew this was where I was supposed to be. He'd worked so hard for me to get here. Still, part of me wanted to turn the car around, race back to our creaky old house and pretend none of this was happening.
The towering iron gates stretch open like arms ready to swallow me whole. Beyond them, tall stone buildings loom, elegant and ancient, with ivy crawling like veins up their sides. Students rush past in tailored uniforms, faces sharp, eyes knowing. They belong. Me? I'm not so sure.
My name is Sofia Bianchi, and I'm seventeen years old. Half-human, half... something else. Not vampire. Not witch. Just other. My mom used to call it "a blessing wrapped in mystery meat." Whatever that means. I adjusted the ribbon on my hair, the only thing I had left from my mother. She left when I was twelve, vanishing like stars before sunrise. No goodbye. No note. All she said was "you'll understand" and that she'll come back someday. After that day, I stopped trusting promises. Her favorite ribbon. Mine too.
The Academy gates loomed tall and sharp like they could cut you open. Students bustled around, dragging luggage and wielding power like it was just another school supply. Vampires, witches, shapeshifters—half the student body didn't even try to look human.
Dad—Matteo—dropped me off with a firm handshake and a rare, almost invisible smile. He's not the hugging type. But he cares in his own way. And I didn't cry. Not until he drove off.
“Crap," I muttered, hiking up my blazer sleeves as I half-sprinted past the main hall portraits. Headmistress Nadia would kill me if I missed orientation. My boots echoed down the corridor, and my braid bounced behind me, as if mocking me for oversleeping.
There's something about sprinting through marble hallways while wearing a satin bow that makes you feel like the main character—until you realize you're late as hell. The doors of the Hall of Circe loomed ahead—arched in ivy and magic, marked with the names of every Sterling graduate.I shoved open the assembly doors and froze.
Every chair was filled. Teams had already been formed. Crap.
Headmaster Martin Mander's eyes landed on me. His clipboard lowered a fraction. "Miss Bianchi," he said dryly, "So glad you could join us. How generous of you."
Laughter rippler through the students. I held my chin up. "Apologies. Won't happen again."
At the front of the hall, Headmistress Nadia's expression tightened—her smile sharp as broken glass.
I was too late.
The ceremony had started, and the last team was being called.
"...And finally, Squad 340," the Headmaster's voice rang out. "Assigned: Sofia Bianchi, Victor Louis, Amanda Stone, Georgina Brown, Nia Lin, Carter Vale, and... Jolene Graves."
And then... a guy in the corner, black hair, arms crossed, gaze locked on me like I have giant zit on my forehead.
Victor.
That's the guy the Academy wouldn't shut up about last year. Dueling prodigy. Cold. Heartbroken by Mandy. Rumored to be related to House Louis, one of the oldest vampire bloodlines.
Of course he was on my team.
"Great," I muttered under my breath.
“Squad 340," Martin announced. "Assigned by Council, sanctioned by Nadia. You'll begin mission prep tomorrow. Congratulations, Miss Bianchi. You're their new lead."
And just like that, the entire room turned to stare.
Welcome to your worst first day.
One of the girls—Mandy, I remembered her name—arched an eyebrow at me like I'd walked in wearing my pajamas.
“You're late, golden girl," she said. "Way to make an entrance."
Victor, tall and pale with black hair like ink, gave me a faint smile. The kind that made my stomach drop. I nodded, trying not to look as rattled as I felt.
Assigned. Not chosen.
I swallowed my pride and joined them, trying to tell myself this was fine. Normal. Not the end of my perfect plan.
But something in the air shimmered—like static before a storm. And deep in my chest, I could feel that this wont just be a year of missions, this would be a year of fear.
Something had changed.
And nothing would ever be the same again.
