Ever-Dawn Academy

*I CONSIDER THIS BOOK COMPLETE. THERE WILL BE A SECOND BOOK, BUT THIS ONE IS FINISHED BEING WRITTEN IF THAT MAKES SENSE!*

Mia

If there’s one thing I hate, it’s being taken out of my comfort zone! And Ever-Dawn Academy is sooo far out of my comfort zone. I clutch the strap of my worn duffel bag tighter, my knuckles going white.

“You’re doing that thing again,” Sofia says beside me, her voice cutting through my spiral of anxiety. “The thing where you look like you’re about to bolt.”

“I’m not bolting.” I scoff. “I’m just... observing.”

“Uh-huh.” Sofia Hart, my best friend since we were placed in the same foster home at fourteen, loops her arm through mine. Her confidence is a living thing, warm and steady, and I lean into it like I always do. “Mia, we’ve been over this. This place is our fresh start. No more group homes, no more moving every six months, no more...”

“No more being the weird orphan witch that nobody wants,” I finish, the words tasting bitter. “I know.”

Sofia squeezes my arm. “That’s not what I was going to say, and you know it.” I do know it. But seventeen years of rejection has a way of burrowing under your skin, making a home in the spaces between your ribs. The Tenebrosity Supernatural Welfare Department might have finally placed us somewhere permanent, but permanence is a concept I’ve never quite been able to trust.

The gates to the academy swing inwards with a groan that sounds life-like. “Dramatic much?” I mutter, and Sofia laughs; that bright, unrestrained sound that first made me love her.

Students move in clusters across the lawn; vampires with their predatory grace, werewolves with their barely-contained energy, fae with their otherworldly beauty, and witches like me.

The East Wing dormitory is all dark wood and stained glass, the kind of place that belongs in a gothic novel. Our room is on the second floor, and by the time we climb the stairs; no elevator, because of course not, I’m out of breath. Vampire and werewolf students pass us with barely a glance, their supernatural stamina making the climb look effortless.

Room 237 is bigger than anywhere I’ve ever lived. Two beds with deep purple comforters, two desks, a shared bathroom, and tall windows that overlook the academy grounds. It’s not home, but it’s ours.

“Dibs on the bed by the window,” Sofia calls, already throwing her bags onto it.

“You can have it.” I set my duffel down on the other bed, my fingers trailing over the soft fabric. Everything here feels expensive. Like it was designed for people who belong. I’ve never been good at belonging.

“Okay, so,” Sofia says, spinning to face me with that gleam in her eye that usually means trouble. “Orientation isn’t for another hour and a half. Want to grab some food first? I’m starving.”

My stomach chooses that moment to growl, answering for me. We skipped lunch on the road, too nervous to eat, and now I’m regretting it. “Food sounds good,” I admit. “Though I’m pretty sure academy cafeteria food is universally terrible, supernatural or not.”

“Only one way to find out.” Sofia’s already heading for the door, and I scramble to follow her, grabbing my phone and shoving it in my pocket.

The cafeteria; or dining hall, as the fancy placard outside calls it is massive. High vaulted ceilings, long tables that look like they belong in a medieval banquet hall, and floor-to-ceiling windows that let in the perpetual twilight. It’s already half-full of students, the noise level a dull roar of conversation and laughter.

“Not terrible,” Sofia says, surveying the food stations. “Actually looks pretty decent.”

She’s right. There are multiple stations offering different cuisines, a salad bar that actually looks fresh, and even a dessert section that makes my mouth water. I grab a tray, suddenly ravenous, and start loading it up with pasta, garlic bread, and a chocolate chip cookie that’s probably bigger than my hand.

“Comfort food?” Sofia asks, eyebrow raised.

“It’s been a long day.” I don’t mention that comfort food is also anxiety food, that I’m still wound so tight I might snap. She knows anyway. We navigate through the tables, looking for somewhere to sit. Most of the groups are already established; vampires with vampires, werewolves with werewolves, the occasional mixed group that looks like they’ve known each other for years. Sofia spots an empty table near the windows and starts heading that way.

I’m following her, balancing my overly-full tray, when someone steps backward directly into my path.

I don’t have time to stop. Don’t have time to do anything but watch in horror as I collide with a wall of solid muscle and leather, my tray tipping forward, pasta and sauce and garlic bread flying through the air in what feels like slow motion.

The chocolate milk I’d grabbed at the last second; because apparently, I’m five years old. It arcs through the air in a perfect stream, splashing across black fabric and pale skin. Oh no! I stumble backward, my now-empty tray clattering to the floor, and look up. And up.

The guy I’ve just dumped an entire lunch on is massive. Easily six and a half feet tall, broad-shouldered, and currently dripping with chocolate milk and marinara sauce. His leather jacket; expensive-looking, well-worn, is splattered with red and brown. His black t-shirt underneath is soaked through. Even his dirty-blonde hair has sauce in it.

But it’s his eyes that make my breath catch. Emerald-green, currently narrowed into slits of pure fury, fixed on me with an intensity that makes me want to disappear into the floor.

A vampire. Obviously. The pale skin, the predatory stillness, the way every other student in the immediate vicinity has gone quiet and taken a step back.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His voice is low, dangerous, vibrating with barely-contained rage.

“I. I’m so sorry, I didn’t see,” I start, but I’m cut off by laughter.

Three other guys are standing a few feet away, and they’re losing it. One of them is actually doubled over, clutching his stomach.

“Oh shit!” One of them wheezes, a dark-haired vampire with a wicked grin. “Krypt, you just got taken out by a,” He looks at me, taking in my small stature, my purple and pink hair, my wide eyes. “By a pixie!”

“Damien, I swear to god.” The guy; Krypt, says, clenching his jaw.

“She’s like, what, five feet tall?” Another one chimes in, this one with red hair and freckles that somehow make him look more dangerous, not less. “And she just absolutely destroyed you. This is the best day of my fucking life!”

“Shut up, Finn!” Krypt’s hands are clenched into fists at his sides, and I can see the muscles in his jaw working. Chocolate milk drips from his hair onto his shoulder.

I should offer to help clean up, or pay for dry cleaning, or literally anything other than standing here frozen like a deer in headlights. But my mouth has apparently disconnected from my brain, because what comes out is; “maybe if you weren’t standing in the middle of a walkway, this wouldn’t have happened.”

The laughter stops. Sofia makes a sound beside me that might be a whimper.

Krypt’s eyes, which I didn’t think could get any more intense, practically see my soul now. He takes a step forward, and I have to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. Up close, he’s even more intimidating; all sharp angles and contained violence, tattoos creeping up his neck in intricate patterns, the scent of leather and something darker.

“Excuse me?” His voice is soft now, which is somehow worse than the anger.

I should back down, apologize profusely and run away. That would be the smart thing to do.

But I’ve spent seventeen years being small, being quiet, being the girl who apologizes for existing. And something about his attitude, about the way he’s looking at me like I’m an insect he’s considering crushing, makes that familiar sarcastic defense mechanism kick in.

“I said,” I repeat, forcing my voice to stay steady even though my heart is hammering, “maybe you should watch where you’re standing. This is a cafeteria. People walk through it. With food. It’s kind of the whole point.”

One of his friends; the dark-haired one, Damien, makes a choking sound. “Oh shit.”

“Do you have any idea who I am?” Krypt asks, and there’s something almost curious in his tone now, like he can’t quite believe I’m still talking.

“Should I?” I fire back. “Let me guess; you’re someone important, someone powerful, someone who’s used to people falling all over themselves to get out of your way. Well, congratulations. I’m new here, so I didn’t get the memo about bowing down to,” I gesture vaguely at him, at his sauce-covered leather jacket and dripping hair, “whatever this is.”

For a moment, nobody moves. The entire cafeteria has gone silent, everyone watching to see what happens next. I can feel Sofia’s hand on my arm, trying to pull me back, but I’m rooted to the spot.

Krypt stares at me, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, deliberately, he reaches up and wipes chocolate milk off his cheek with his thumb. The movement draws my attention to his hands; large, covered in tattoos that extend past his wrists, and currently clenched with enough tension that I can see the veins standing out.

“You’re going to regret that,” he says quietly.

“I already regret it,” I snap back, gesturing at the mess on the floor, at my empty tray, at the lunch I no longer have. “That was my food. And now I’m hungry and you’re being a dick about an accident.”

Something flashes in his eyes. Surprise, maybe. Or respect. It’s gone too quickly for me to tell.

“A dick?” He repeats, and there’s an edge to his voice that makes my skin prickle. “Princess, you have no idea what I’m capable of being.”

“Don’t call me princess.” The words come out sharper than I intend. “And I don’t care what you’re capable of. I said I was sorry. It was an accident. If you can’t handle that, then maybe you should eat somewhere else!”

The red-haired vampire; Finn, lets out a low whistle. “She’s got balls, I’ll give her that.”

“She’s got a death wish,” the third vampire mutters, a blonde guy who’s been quiet until now.

Krypt ignores them both, his entire focus on me. We’re standing close enough now that I have to crane my neck back to look at him, close enough that I can see the flecks of gold in his green eyes. The way his jaw is still clenched tight enough to crack teeth.

“What’s your name?” He asks, and it sounds like a demand, not a question.

“Why do you want to know?”

“So, I know who to make miserable for the rest of the semester.”

Despite the fear coursing through me, despite the very real sense that I’ve just made a very powerful enemy, I feel my chin lift. “Mia. Mia Goode. And you’re Krypt, apparently. Short for Kryptos, I’m guessing? Very mysterious. Very brooding. I’m sure it works great on people who are impressed by that sort of thing.”

Sofia’s grip on my arm tightens to the point of pain. “Mia,” she hisses. “Stop talking.”

But I can’t seem to stop. It’s like every year of swallowing my words, of making myself smaller, of letting people walk all over me has built up into this moment, and it’s all coming out at once.

Krypt’s lips curve into something that’s not quite a smile. It’s colder than that. More dangerous. “Mia Goode,” he says, tasting my name like it’s something bitter. “I’m going to remember that.”

“Great. I’ll remember you, too. You’re the asshole who can’t handle getting a little sauce on his precious leather jacket.”

For a second; just a heartbeat, I think I see something other than anger in his expression. Amusement, maybe. Or interest. But then it’s gone, replaced by that cold, controlled fury.

“You’re going to wish you’d kept your mouth shut,” he says.

“And you’re going to wish you’d learned some manners,” I shoot back.

He stares at me for another long moment, and I force myself not to look away, not to back down, even though every survival instinct I have is screaming at me to run. Then, without another word, he turns and walks away, his friends scrambling to follow him.

The cafeteria slowly comes back to life, conversations resuming in hushed whispers. I can feel eyes on me, hear the murmurs starting up.

“Did she just?”

“Doesn’t know who he is...”

“Completely insane!”

Sofia spins me around to face her, her eyes wide. “Mia. What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know.” My hands are shaking now, the adrenaline starting to fade and leave me feeling weak and slightly nauseous. “He just; he made me so angry, and I couldn’t...”

“That was Kryptos Ozul,” Sofia says, her voice tight. “Do you understand? That was Krypt. He’s. Mia, he’s dangerous. Like, actually dangerous. There are rumors about him, about things he’s done. And you just; you just antagonized him in front of half the school.”

“He antagonized me first,” I mutter, but the words sound weak even to my own ears.

“He’s a vampire, Mia. A powerful one. And you’re.”

“A nobody witch with no family and no connections,” I finish. “I know. Trust me, I know.”

Sofia’s expression softens. “That’s not what I was going to say.”

“But it’s true.” I look down at the mess on the floor; my spilled lunch, the sauce and milk spreading across the tile. A cafeteria worker is already heading over with a mop, looking annoyed. “I should clean this up.”

“I’ll help.” Sofia squeezes my arm. “And then we’re going to figure out how to keep you alive for the rest of the semester, because I’m pretty sure you just made the worst enemy possible on your first day.”

As we kneel down to help clean up the mess, I catch sight of Krypt across the cafeteria. He’s at a table with his friends, and even from here, I can see the tension in his shoulders. The way he’s gripping his water bottle hard enough that I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter.

One of his friends; Damien, says something, and the others laugh. Krypt doesn’t. He just sits there, staring at nothing, sauce still dripping from his hair. And then, as if he can feel my gaze, he looks up. Our eyes meet across the crowded cafeteria.

There’s something in his expression I can’t read. Something intense and unsettling that makes my breath catch. Not quite anger anymore. Something else. Something that makes my skin prickle with awareness.

He doesn’t look away. Neither do I. It’s Sofia tugging on my arm that finally breaks the moment. “Come on,” she says. “Let’s get you some more food. And then we need to have a serious talk about survival strategies.”

I let her pull me away, but I can still feel his eyes on me. Can still feel the weight of his stare like a physical thing.

I’ve been at Ever-Dawn Academy for less than two hours, and I’ve already made an enemy of someone who looks like he could destroy me without breaking a sweat. Great start, Mia. Really stellar.

Krypt

I’m going to kill her. Not literally; probably, but the thought is incredibly appealing as I sit at our usual table, chocolate milk drying sticky in my hair, marinara sauce staining my favorite leather jacket, and my friends laughing their asses off at my expense.

“I can’t believe,” Damien wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes. “I can’t believe that just happened. Krypt, your face. Your face when she...”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll rip your throat out,” I growl. He laughs harder. Finn is no better, practically howling with amusement. Even Silas, who’s usually the serious one, has a grin on his face.

“She called you a dick,” Finn says, like I need the reminder. “To your face. In front of everyone. And then she told you to eat somewhere else.”

“I was there,” I snap. “I remember.”

“Do you think she knows who you are?” Silas asks, finally getting himself under control.

“She said she was new.” I grab a napkin and try to wipe the sauce out of my hair, but it’s useless. I’m going to have to shower. Again. I already showered this morning, and I hate disrupting my routine. “Clearly she doesn’t know anything about the social hierarchy here.”

“She’s about to learn,” Damien says, his grin turning wicked. “I give her a week before she’s begging for mercy.” The thought should satisfy me. But instead, I just feel... irritated. Restless. Mia Goode.

Even her name is ridiculous. Sweet and innocent, like something out of a fairy tale. She looks like something out of a fairy tale too; tiny and delicate with that purple and pink hair, those wide blue eyes, skin so pale I could probably see her veins if I got close enough. Which I won’t be doing. Because she’s infuriating.

The way she stood there, barely reaching my chest, and had the audacity to talk back to me. To call me out. To act like I was the one in the wrong when she was the one who dumped an entire lunch on me. Nobody talks to me like that. Nobody has talked to me like that in years!

And the worst part? The absolute worst part? Some small, traitorous part of me found it... interesting. “You’re thinking about her,” Damien observes, his amusement fading into something more curious.

“I’m thinking about how to make her life hell,” I correct.

“Sure you are.” He leans back in his chair, studying me. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this worked up over someone. Usually, you just ignore people who annoy you.”

“Usually, people who annoy me don’t dump food on me in front of the entire cafeteria.”

“Fair point.” Finn is still grinning. “But you have to admit, it was kind of impressive. She didn’t back down even when you went full intimidation mode. Most people would have pissed themselves.”

“She’s either brave or stupid,” Silas says.

“Stupid,” I say firmly. “Definitely stupid.” But I’m not sure if I believe it. Because there was something in her eyes when she looked at me; not fear, exactly, though that was there too. Something sharper. More defiant. Like she was daring me to do my worst.

Like she’d already survived worse than anything I could do to her. The thought bothers me more than it should. I look across the cafeteria and find her immediately. She’s kneeling on the floor with another girl, probably her friend; helping clean up the mess. Her purple and pink hair falls forward, hiding her face, but I can see the tension in her shoulders.

She’s scared. Good. She should be. And then she looks up, and our eyes meet. For a moment, everything else fades away. The noise of the cafeteria, my friends’ laughter, the sticky discomfort of sauce in my hair; all of it disappears, and there’s just her. Those wide blue eyes, currently filled with something I can’t quite name. Not fear. Not defiance. Something else.

Something that makes my dead heart stutter in my chest. What the hell? I force myself to look away, to focus on the table in front of me, on anything other than the strange feeling that just washed over me. It was nothing. A moment of curiosity, that’s all. She’s new, she’s interesting in the way a puzzle is interesting, and once I figure her out, once I put her in her place, this weird feeling will go away...

“So,” Damien says, drawing out the word. “What’s the plan? How are we making the new girl’s life miserable?”

I should have an answer. Should already be plotting revenge, thinking of ways to make her regret ever speaking to me. That’s what I do; someone crosses me, I make them pay. It’s simple. Effective.

But when I open my mouth to respond, what comes out is; “leave her alone.” Three pairs of eyes turn to stare at me.

“What?” Finn asks.

“I said leave her alone.” I stand up, grabbing my tray even though I haven’t touched my food. “She’s not worth the effort.” It’s a lie, and from the looks on their faces, they know it. But they don’t call me out on it, just exchange glances that I pretend not to see.

“I’m going to shower,” I announce. “I smell like a fucking Italian restaurant.”

I leave before they can respond, dumping my tray and heading for the exit. I can feel eyes on me as I walk; everyone watching, waiting to see what I’ll do, how I’ll retaliate against the girl who dared to embarrass me. They’ll be disappointed.

Because the truth is, I don’t know what to do about Mia Goode. I don’t know why the thought of actually hurting her makes something in my chest twist uncomfortably. Don’t know why I can still see her face in my mind, defiant and scared and trying so hard to be brave. She’s nothing to me. A nobody witch with cotton-candy hair and a death wish.