Blood Ties, Velvet Lies

Norman hides a monstrous secret—he's a vampire, the son of an ancient, feared lineage. When the ones he loves most become targets in a hidden war between bloodlines, he’ll risk everything to protect them—even if it means revealing the monster within. But how long can love survive when the truth bleeds through?
Or An alternate universe where Norman is secretly a vampire and he has to protect Emma and Ray without them finding out.

Notes:

I've made many changes in between. So there may be some mistakes. Though I have proofread it. I apologize for the mistakes.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Norman had always been a little off.

Not in a bad way—he was smart, charismatic, kind. Just...off.

Too perfect. Too graceful. Too pale.

He walked like he was gliding. Moved like he didn’t have bones. And even under the fluorescent lights of the school hallway, his skin seemed to glow with a cold white hue. His hair, too, was an impossible white—clean and bright like fresh snow. Most people figured it was bleached.

Emma and Ray knew better.

He’d told them in middle school, calm and unbothered, “I have albinism. It affects pigmentation, that’s all.”

Emma had gasped, full of concern, while Ray had just shrugged. That was years ago, and after a few follow-up questions and a Google search on Emma’s part, they dropped it. Norman never brought it up again.

Now, in their second year of high school, the three were still inseparable. The classic trio. Ray, with his dark sarcasm and constantly tangled black hair. Emma, a bundle of sunshine and endless curiosity. And Norman, pale and perfect and hiding more than either of them realized.

---

Lunch was loud. Emma was louder.

“GUYS,” she slammed her tray down dramatically, rice spilling onto the table. “Listen. Hear me out. What if we all go to that haunted house festival this weekend? It’s for charity!”

Ray barely looked up from his book. “No.”

Norman tilted his head. “Haunted house?”

Emma nodded enthusiastically. “Yup! They say it’s really creepy. Like, full on jump scares, fake blood, actors chasing you with chainsaws kind of deal.”

Ray rolled his eyes. “Sounds like my idea of hell.”

“It’ll be fun!” she grinned, leaning across the table. “Norman, back me up?”

Norman paused, then gave her a small, placating smile. “Sure. If you really want to go, I’m in.”

Emma fist-pumped.

Ray groaned. “Traitor.”

---

Later, when the cafeteria had emptied and Emma was pulled away to student council duties, Ray and Norman lingered. Norman had barely touched his food. A single untouched bottle of tomato juice sat beside his tray.

Ray’s eyes flicked to it. “You’re seriously still drinking that?”

Norman gave a light chuckle. “Better than soda.”

“You always drink it. Doesn’t that get old?”

Norman swirled the bottle gently. The liquid clung to the sides like it was thicker than it should be. “Some things have...lasting appeal.”

Ray frowned, but let it go.

---

Norman liked the quiet.

He liked the way the empty halls echoed beneath his steps after dark. He liked how the shadows stretched long in the gym when everyone was gone. He liked that at night, he didn’t have to pretend so hard.

The classroom windows cast silver moonlight across the floor, and Norman sat alone at his desk, eyes glowing faintly in the dark.

His bag sat open. Inside, nestled in a secret pocket, were glass vials of blood, taken from a private supplier in town. Animal. Clean. Controlled.

He never drank from humans. He’d sworn that. Not after what happened to—

He clenched his jaw.

A sudden sound broke the silence.

Footsteps.

His head snapped up. He was certain he’d been alone.

Then came a voice, low and lazy: “You forgot your phone, dumbass.”

Ray.

Norman stuffed the vial back into his bag quickly, just as Ray stepped in, holding up the device. He looked around, squinting. “What are you even doing here?”

“Forgot my notes,” Norman lied smoothly. “You came all the way back just for my phone?”

Ray shrugged. “Emma made me. She said you’d wander into the forest and die without GPS.”

Norman smiled. “Sounds like her.”

Ray stared at him for a second longer than normal. “You look tired.”

Norman blinked. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Ray said casually. “You don’t eat. You barely sleep. You’re cold all the time. I know you said it’s because of your condition, but—”

“Ray,” Norman interrupted gently, “I’m fine.”

A beat passed.

Then Ray looked away and tossed him the phone. “Whatever. Just don’t pass out during the haunted house, alright? I’m not dragging your corpse out of a fog machine.”

Norman’s lips twitched. “No promises.”

That night, Norman stood under the moonlight outside his apartment, watching the clouds drift.

He could smell them.

Not the clouds.

Emma and Ray.

Their scents were warm, alive. Emma like cinnamon and sunlight. Ray like old books and rain.

Norman closed his eyes and willed his fangs not to extend. He clenched his fists until the hunger passed.

They didn’t know.

They couldn’t know.

Because if they did, everything would change.

And Norman would lose the only two people who ever made him feel human.

---

The haunted house sat on the edge of the forest, looking more like a crumbling mansion than a festival attraction. It was all broken shutters and ivy-choked bricks, the kind of place local kids dared each other to enter on Halloween.

Ray stopped dead in front of it.

“This is the charity event?” he asked flatly. “Emma, are you sure this isn’t just a cult headquarters?”

Emma bounced on her toes, eyes sparkling. “It’s supposed to be immersive! Look at how realistic it is!”

Norman stood behind them, silent.

His instincts were screaming.

The air stank of blood. Real blood. Not the sticky corn syrup kind. Thick and metallic, warm and human. It clung to the walls, the porch, the doorknob.

This wasn’t a game.

This was wrong.

But Emma was already dragging Ray by the wrist toward the entrance. “Come on! If we finish it fast, I’ll buy you both hot chocolate after.”

Ray muttered something under his breath, but followed.

Norman hesitated at the doorway. His pupils contracted.

The entire house was laced with an aura only vampires could sense. It wasn’t just the scent of blood—it was the mark of claim. Territory. An unspoken warning written into the very air: This belongs to me.

Another vampire had made this place.

A trap.

For humans.

And Emma and Ray had just walked in.

---

Inside, it was pitch black.

Fog machines hissed. Old floorboards groaned beneath their feet. Distant screams echoed through the halls, but Norman could tell… they weren’t acting.

Not all of them.

The blood was fresh. Less than an hour old.

He had to keep them safe.

“Stay close,” he said, voice sharper than usual.

Emma glanced back. “You okay?”

“Just... a bad feeling.”

Ray raised a brow but didn’t argue.

They passed through narrow halls filled with shadows and cheap Halloween props. But the longer they walked, the less staged it all felt. There were no guides. No signs. No emergency exits.

And then they reached the hallway.

That was when Norman saw him.

Tall. Lean. Standing at the end of the corridor, eyes glowing red. Fangs visible. His skin was pale, but not sickly—predatory. His gaze landed on Emma first, then Ray.

Then Norman.

The vampire’s lip curled into a knowing grin.

Emma blinked. “Whoa. His costume is crazy realistic—”

“Don’t move,” Norman said softly.

Ray stiffened. “That guy… something’s off.”

Norman stepped between them, blocking the vampire’s view.

He made sure neither Emma nor Ray could see his face.

Then—quick as breath—Norman let his eyes flare red.

Just for a second.

A silent message passed between them.

They’re mine.

The other vampire faltered. His grin faded. He bared his fangs in irritation, but dipped his head in submission.

Emma and Ray couldn’t see it.

They didn’t know the rules.

They didn’t know Norman had just claimed them as his.

---

A second later, the vampire stepped aside.

The hallway was clear.

Emma laughed nervously. “Okay, that was weird. Is he an actor?”

Ray didn’t answer. His eyes stayed on Norman.

Norman turned to them, voice steady. “Let’s go. Now.”

They hurried out. Through the hall. Down twisting corridors. Back into the cold night air.

Once they reached the sidewalk, Emma collapsed onto a bench, catching her breath. “Okay… that was way more intense than I expected.”

Ray didn’t sit. He kept watching Norman.

“You knew something was wrong,” he said quietly. “Before we even walked in.”

Norman didn’t flinch. “I just… had a bad feeling.”

Ray stared a second longer, then looked away. “Right.”

Emma stretched her arms. “Okay! Hot chocolate?”

Norman smiled. “Sure. My treat.”

---

Later that night, when he was finally alone again, Norman stood on his balcony and clenched the railing hard enough to dent the metal.

Another vampire in town.

One bold enough to feed this close to humans.

And now he knew Norman had something to protect.

That made Emma and Ray targets.

Norman looked at the city below, then to the moon above.

He could keep lying.

He could keep pretending.

But sooner or later, the truth would find them.

And when it did, blood would follow.

---

It started the next week.

Subtle things.

A shift in the air.

A new smell in the hallway—faint, metallic. Norman was the only one who noticed. A whisper of blood. Not fresh enough to alarm anyone human. But for him, it was unmistakable.

The vampires were here.

Not just one.

Four.

He could feel them like pressure under his skin. Like heat in a cold room. One had a scent like ash and rust. Another like wine and old paper. The third moved too fast to track. And the fourth…

Norman’s jaw clenched.

The fourth was watching Emma.

---

They started appearing in class.

Transfer students, all from the same "academy abroad." They were beautiful in that way vampires often were—almost too perfect. Sharp faces. Glossy hair. Eyes just a little too bright.

Emma was fascinated. “Is it just me, or did our school suddenly get a ton of hot people?”

Ray didn’t even look up. “Probably a cult.”

Emma laughed. “You always say that.”

Ray shrugged. “Because I’m always right.”

Norman forced a smile. “They’re probably not here for long.”

His eyes scanned the room. One of them—tall, red-eyed, too still—was sitting in the back of the class, staring right at him.

Norman stared back.

A silent message passed between them again.

I know what you are.

I know what you’re hiding.

We’re not finished.

---

By Thursday, Emma had already talked to all four of them. Of course she had. She was sunshine wrapped in human form, and they circled her like moths to a flame.

The one with silky dark hair, who called himself Adrian, had taken a particular liking to her.

“He asked for my number,” Emma said, swinging her legs under the lunch table. “Said he wanted help getting used to school. Isn’t that cute?”

Ray rolled his eyes. “It’s suspicious. Who even says that?”

Norman didn’t speak. His hands were tight around his bottle of tomato juice.

Emma nudged him. “You okay?”

He looked up. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

That was the thing about lying.

It got easier the more you did it.

---

That night, Norman confronted them.

He waited until the school was closed, then found them in the music room, where the walls were lined with soundproofing and dust-covered instruments.

They were already waiting for him.

Adrian smiled like a snake. “You’re not hiding very well, old blood.”

Norman didn’t return the smile. “Why are you here?”

A shorter girl with curls and gold eyes leaned against the piano. “Heard a rumor,” she said sweetly. “That you were protecting humans.”

The tallest vampire scoffed. “How pathetic.”

Norman stepped forward. “They’re not your prey.”

Adrian’s smile sharpened. “Then whose are they?”

Norman’s fangs slid out before he could stop them.

“They’re mine.”

Silence fell.

Then laughter.

“Oh, he’s serious,” said the girl, giggling. “Cute.”

“We won’t bite,” Adrian said, stepping closer. “Yet. Just curious. It’s not every day we find one of our kind hiding in plain sight—especially one pretending to be human.”

“You’re not welcome here.”

“And you think you can stop us?”

Norman’s voice dropped low. “Try me.”

They stared each other down.

Eventually, Adrian raised his hands. “Fine. We’ll behave. For now.”

“But accidents happen,” the other vampire said with a grin. “Especially around girls who smell that sweet.”

Norman’s hands clenched. “If you go near her—”

“You’ll what?” Adrian murmured. “Expose yourself? Lose the only thing that lets you blend in? You’re outnumbered, Norman. We’ll be around.”

And just like that, they vanished into the night.

---

The next day, Emma found a rose in her locker.

A black one.

With a single drop of blood on the petal.

She blinked, tilting her head. “Weird. Must be some weird festival prank?”

Norman stared at it.

Ray frowned. “That’s not funny.”

Emma laughed it off, stuffing the rose into her bag. “Creepy, but kind of cool?”

But Norman’s smile didn’t return.

This wasn’t a game anymore.

They were hunting.

And he was the only thing standing between his friends and a fate worse than death.

---

Norman knew the moment it happened.

The air around Ray had changed.

It was subtle, but unmistakable. A shift in scent. The way their eyes lingered on him too long. How their voices dropped when they spoke near him, like they were discussing something no human should hear.

Two of them.

The shorter girl with golden eyes—Lucia. She had an eerie sort of sweetness, like honey laced with poison. And the other one—Cyrus. He was silent, unreadable, but there was something possessive in the way he looked at Ray. Like he was staring at something already his.

Norman had seen it before.

They didn’t want to kill Ray.

They wanted to turn him.

Make him their Eve.

An eternal partner. A vampire’s chosen.

And Ray didn’t have a clue.

---

"Did you know vampires have soulmates?"

Norman froze mid-step.

The halls were empty. After-school silence stretched between them. Lucia stood by the window, sunlight streaking her curls with gold.

Norman’s fists clenched. "Humans aren’t playthings."

Lucia smirked. "Of course not. That’s why we only choose the best ones." She turned, eyes flashing. "Ray is special. We can all tell."

Norman’s stomach twisted. "He’s not yours."

"You don’t even want him, do you?"

Norman’s breath hitched.

Lucia smiled wider, fangs glinting. "No claim. No bond. No mark." She tilted her head. "Poor thing. Must be lonely."

A quiet chuckle came from behind Norman.

Cyrus.

Leaning against the lockers, arms crossed. "You’re selfish, Norman. You don’t want him, but you won’t let anyone else have him either."

Norman’s throat burned.

They were serious.

This wasn’t about a passing interest. This wasn’t some vampire game. They wanted Ray. For eternity.

"I’m warning you," Norman said softly.

Lucia’s eyes gleamed. "You’re outnumbered."

"You’re out of your mind."

Cyrus chuckled again. "Maybe. But we always get what we want."

Lucia twirled a strand of hair. "We won’t bite yet. He’s still human, after all."

"But when the time comes…"

Cyrus’s smirk deepened. "I wonder who he’ll choose?"

Then they vanished.

Leaving Norman standing alone.

---

That night, Norman barely slept.

This was worse than he thought.

It wasn’t just Emma in danger now. It was Ray.

And if Norman didn’t stop them…

Ray wouldn’t just die.

He’d be turned.

And he’d be theirs.

Forever.

---

The next day, Ray leaned against the lockers, bored. "You’re staring."

Norman blinked. "What?"

"You’ve been watching me like I’m about to drop dead."

Norman forced a chuckle. "Just tired."

Ray frowned.

Across the hall, Lucia and Cyrus stood together, whispering. Watching.

Norman felt his fangs ache.

They weren’t going to stop.

And Ray had no idea what was coming.

---

Ray didn’t know what was coming.
Didn’t know that every smile Lucia gave him, every time Cyrus stood just a bit too close, wasn’t coincidence.
Didn’t know that he’d already been marked—metaphorically—for something far darker than death.
He just thought everyone was being weird. Especially Norman.

“Dude,” Ray muttered, cracking open his locker, “you’ve got to stop hovering.”

“I’m not hovering.”

“You’re literally standing behind me while I get my math book like a stalker.”

Norman didn’t move. His eyes flicked over Ray’s shoulder. Lucia was further down the hallway, chatting with Emma about something stupid and harmless. Cyrus was leaning against the vending machine, sipping a soda he definitely didn’t need. They looked normal.

Too normal.

Ray raised an eyebrow. “Is this about the new kids? You’ve been acting like they’re going to stab us in our sleep.”

Norman forced a smile. “No. Just tired, like I said.”

Ray narrowed his eyes. “Right. Because tired people stand behind you breathing down your neck.”

Emma skipped over a moment later, shoving Ray lightly with a grin. “Lucia’s so cool! She said she used to go to school in France. She’s been helping me with pronunciation in chem.”

“She pronounced ‘fluoride’ like ‘floo-rahhd’ and I wanted to die,” Ray deadpanned.

Emma just laughed. “You’re so dramatic. What about you, Norman? You talk to her yet?”

Norman’s smile faltered. “No. I’ve had enough of that type.”

“What type?”

Ray cut in before Emma could keep going. “The type that makes you feel like you’re being hunted when they smile.”

Norman’s head snapped to him.

Ray blinked. “Kidding. Mostly. She’s... weird, though.”

Norman looked away. “Yeah. Weird.”

---

Later that week Lucia met Ray in the courtyard after last period. She leaned against a tree, her golden eyes soft.
“You’re always alone,” she said gently. “You don’t talk much.”

Ray shrugged. “I talk when I have something to say.”

She tilted her head. “I like that.”

He glanced at her, vaguely uncomfortable. “Thanks?”

Lucia stepped a little closer. “You’re different from the others. There’s a stillness in you. A sharpness. Most people look but don’t see—you see.”

Ray stared at her. “Okay. That’s… poetic. Are you in the literature club or something?”

She laughed, voice smooth like melted sugar. “You’re funny too.”

He shifted his weight. “Is that all you came to say?”

“No.” She reached out like she was going to touch his arm—but didn’t. “I just wanted to know you better.”

He frowned. “Why?”

She smiled. “Because I think we’re going to be close, Ray.”

---

Norman watched everything from the rooftop. His knuckles were white. He could smell the intent radiating off her.
Cyrus was nearby too, pretending to scroll through his phone while keeping his gaze fixed on Ray.

They were circling him like wolves.

And Ray…
Ray didn’t know.
Didn’t see the trap under the silk.

Norman closed his eyes. If he said something now, Ray would think he was insane. There was no way to explain this without revealing himself. Without breaking the fragile glass of their friendship.

But the moment Ray said yes to either of them—
It would be too late.

Eves weren’t made overnight.
They were chosen.
Lured in.
Bitten during a blood moon.
Bound forever.

And the next one was only two weeks away.

---

That night, Norman cornered Lucia and Cyrus again.

“You’re not touching him.”

Lucia leaned on the stair railing, lips curled. “We haven’t touched him at all. Yet.”

Cyrus glanced up from a red-bound book. “Why do you care so much, Norman? You’re not even close to him. You’re not even human.”

“He’s mine.”

That hung in the air like static.

Lucia’s grin widened, slow and mocking. “So say it, then. Mark him. Bite him.”

Norman’s silence answered for him.

Cyrus shut the book. “Thought so.”

Lucia stepped forward, voice sickly sweet. “We’re not going to hurt him, Norman. We like him.”

“Your version of ‘like’ ends in fangs and chains.”

She laughed. “Chains are optional.”

Norman’s breath hitched.

“Two weeks,” Cyrus said. “We’re patient. He’ll come willingly.”

“Stay away from him.”

“Or what?” Lucia purred. “You’ll tell him what you are?”

Norman’s hands were shaking. “I’ll stop you. One way or another.”

They just smiled.

---

The next day, Ray sat beside Norman at lunch.

He opened his juice, looked over, and sighed. “Okay seriously. What is your deal lately?”

Norman blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You’re weird. Weirder than usual. Possessive. Glaring at people. You’re not even this intense during exam week.”

Norman stared at the table. “I just… don’t like those new kids.”

“Okay, but why?”

Norman looked up, eyes flickering with something Ray couldn’t place. “Because they’re dangerous.”

Ray frowned. “You say that like you know.”

Norman didn’t answer.

“Seriously,” Ray pushed. “If something’s going on—”

“I’m handling it.”

Ray narrowed his eyes. “Norman—”

“I promise.”

Ray fell silent. He still didn’t get it. Didn’t know he was already on the edge of something ancient, twisted, and irreversible.

And Norman couldn’t tell him.

Not yet.

Not until he figured out how to save him.

---

Adrian was charming in that lowkey, unreadable way that made people lean in without realizing it. He wore clean white shirts and black jeans like a model in a brooding catalog. His hair always seemed perfectly disheveled. Emma didn’t notice any of that, of course—she just thought he was cool.

“He taught me a card trick,” she beamed, pulling a bent playing card from her sleeve and holding it up to Ray. “I don’t know how, but it works every time.”

Ray raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “I can do magic too. Watch—” He flipped through his physics book. “Now you see the will to live. Now you don’t.”

Emma snorted and shoved him.

Across the field, Norman stood a little too still, watching with narrowed eyes as Adrian joined Emma again, followed by a girl with long black curls and red lipstick. The girl’s name was Selene—another transfer from that so-called "elite academy" in France. Same story. Same lie. Same scent of death under perfume and charm.

They were all here now.

Lucia. Cyrus. Adrian. Selene.
All four.

Norman’s stomach twisted.

---

Ray didn’t do new people.
He didn’t trust easily.
But... Cyrus had casually handed him a rare Japanese vinyl last week. He remembered Ray had mentioned liking that artist once during class. That kind of detail-keeping? That was weird. But also kinda flattering.

And Lucia...

“Have you ever read Le Horla?” she asked, walking beside him down the empty hall.

Ray blinked. “Maupassant? Yeah.”

Her smile deepened. “It reminded me of you.”

“…thanks?”

“No, I mean that in a good way. You think deeply. You know how to look behind things.”

Cyrus appeared beside them out of nowhere. “And you don’t belong here.”

Ray paused. “Excuse me?”

Cyrus grinned lazily. “I mean in this school. You’re sharper than the others. They dull you.”

Lucia added, “You’d fit better with us. We come from places where people are more… awake.”

Ray didn’t reply. But something about that did appeal to him. The top academy they’d come from sounded incredible—international projects, private libraries, total freedom in curriculum.

Maybe that’s why, when they invited him to join them after school at the cafe down the street, he said yes.

---

Norman knew.
He didn’t even need to hear it. He sensed it.

Ray was laughing with Lucia.
Emma was talking to Adrian like they’d known each other for years.
Selene was twirling Emma’s hair around her finger and asking her what her blood type was—as a joke, of course.

Norman sat on the stone bench, quiet as a grave.
To Emma, he just looked thoughtful. To Ray, maybe a little zoned out.

But to them, to the vampires—
His eyes were blazing.

Lucia met his gaze from across the quad.
She smiled sweetly.

He smiled back.
Dead calm.
Deadly.

---

Inside, a different kind of storm brewed.

Norman cornered Cyrus when he slipped into the art wing alone.

“Back off.”

Cyrus arched an eyebrow. “From what?”

“You know exactly who.”

“Ah. Your little friend.” He smiled, tilting his head. “You haven’t claimed him.”

“I will.”

“You won’t,” Cyrus said, brushing invisible dust off his shirt. “You don’t want him to know what you are. And if he doesn’t know... then he’s fair game.”

Norman stepped closer, voice low. “If you go near him again—”

“Or what?”

Norman’s irises flickered—just for a second. Crimson.

Cyrus’s smile vanished.

“Fine,” he muttered, stepping back. “We’ll wait. We’re very patient. But if you haven’t bitten him by the blood moon…”

His voice trailed off. He didn’t need to finish.

---

Meanwhile, Emma was still obliviously sipping strawberry lemonade at the cafe with Adrian, talking about her childhood and laughing like nothing was wrong. Selene looked on with interest.

Ray sat at the opposite table with Lucia and Cyrus, flipping through a French poetry book Lucia had brought him.

He didn’t see the way her eyes glowed faintly behind her lashes when he smiled.
He didn’t see the way Cyrus’s fingers twitched, resisting the urge to touch his wrist.
He didn’t hear what they whispered in a language older than English when he left for the bathroom.

But Norman saw it all.
From the other side of the street.
Unblinking.
Seething.
Silently planning the next move.

---

Norman never hated crowds until now.

Students rushed past him in between classes, laughing, chatting, bumping shoulders, chewing gum too loudly. So many faces. So many scents. But only four of them were wrong.

Four vampires in a sea of humans.
And out of every single person in this goddamn school—why them?

Why Emma?
Why Ray?

Emma, whose blood practically glowed with warmth. Whose laugh made people feel safe. Sweet, bright, completely unaware Emma.

And Ray—
Ray, who didn’t let people in. Who kept the world at arm’s length with barbed wire and sarcasm. Until they came along. Until Lucia and Cyrus wormed their way in with old poetry and mystery and offers of a world Ray had always secretly wanted.

Norman clenched his jaw.

Adrian and Selene weren’t interested in romance. They were hungry.
Lucia and Cyrus, on the other hand…
They wanted something worse.
They wanted permanence. Bond. Eternity.

Ray didn’t know what it meant to be an Eve.
Didn’t know what came after the bite.
Didn’t know he wouldn’t even stay Ray anymore.

Norman couldn’t let that happen.

So he stepped in.

---

It started subtly.

He made Ray help him with a physics project that didn’t exist. Dragged Emma into “practice” for an event she wasn’t even part of. He’d show up outside classrooms, claim he needed help with notes, that he wanted to hang out, that they should all grab food—just the three of them. Like old times.

And it worked. Mostly.

The vampires watched. Silent. Unamused.
Lucia’s smiles were growing thinner.
Adrian had stopped waving.

But Norman didn’t care.
He didn’t care if they hated him.
He didn’t care if he looked obsessive.
He had two goals now:

1. Keep Emma breathing.
2. Keep Ray human.

---

But then…
The confrontation came.

It was after school. The sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the quad. Ray and Emma had pulled him into the empty art room. Just the three of them.

Emma had her arms crossed. Ray’s brow was furrowed.

“What’s going on with you?” Emma asked first. “You’ve been… weird lately.”

Ray leaned against the table. “You’ve always been kind of a control freak, but this is next-level.”

Norman didn’t answer right away.

Emma stepped closer. “You don’t want us hanging out with the transfer students. Every time we talk to them, you show up with some excuse. Are you jealous? Or is there something you’re not telling us?”

Ray’s voice dropped a notch. “Yeah, Norman. What’s your problem?”

Norman didn’t flinch under their questioning.
Didn’t break eye contact.
Didn’t let them see the real answer.

Instead, he smiled. Small. Just enough sadness in it to tug at heartstrings.

“I guess I’m just… insecure.”

Emma blinked. “What?”

“I know I don’t talk about it,” he said softly, voice perfectly measured, “but I’ve always felt weird. With my skin, and hair, and eyes. I have albinism, and I—I know you guys don’t care. But sometimes I look at myself and I think, ‘Of course they’d rather hang out with people who look… normal. Who belong.’”

He gave a short, breathless laugh. “Adrian looks like a movie star. Lucia, Selene—they’re beautiful, mysterious. You’re drawn to them. And I guess I just panicked. I didn’t want to be left behind.”

Ray straightened slowly. His expression shifted from confusion to something more troubled. “Norman…”

Emma’s voice wavered. “Why didn’t you ever tell us this before?”

Norman looked down, twisting his hands in just the right way. “It’s stupid. I didn’t want to seem dramatic. And I guess I hoped… if I never brought it up, I could pretend it didn’t matter.”

It was dramatic.
It was manipulative.
And it was working.

---

Inside his mind, Norman was screaming.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
He hated doing this. He hated the softness in Emma’s voice and the rare flicker of guilt in Ray’s eyes. They were falling for it because they cared. Because they were kind.

And I’m using that kindness against them.

But what choice did he have?

Adrian had been talking about Emma’s blood like it was wine.
Lucia was reading Ray’s aura like a lover memorizing scripture.

Norman couldn’t tell them the truth.
Couldn’t tell them there were monsters in their classrooms with teeth and hunger and centuries of patience.
Couldn’t tell them he was one of those monsters, too.

So he played the only card he could.

“If they feel guilty, they’ll stay.
If they feel guilty, they’ll stay close.
And if they stay close, I can protect them.”

Even if they hated him later.

Even if they should.

Emma stepped forward and grabbed Norman’s hand. Her eyes were wide and glassy.

“Hey. Don’t say that. Ever. You’ve always been the most beautiful person I know.”

Ray rubbed the back of his neck, awkward. “Seriously. We’ve never cared about that. You’ve always been… you. No one makes me feel safer than you do.”

Norman’s throat tightened. Stop. Please stop. Don’t be so good to me. It makes this worse.

But he only smiled a little, eyes glistening. “Thanks. That… means more than I can say.”

More than you’ll ever know.
More than I deserve.

“Come on,” Emma said, tugging on his hand. “Let’s go get snacks. My treat.”

Ray bumped Norman’s shoulder. “But we’re talking about this more later. No more bottling stuff up, got it?”

Norman nodded, letting them pull him toward the exit.
He walked between them—Emma on one side, Ray on the other.

He didn’t deserve it.
Not their loyalty.
Not their comfort.

But he would burn the world down to keep them safe.
Even if it meant lying through his teeth.

---

The idea came to Norman quietly—soft as snow, cold as dread.

“A sleepover,” he said, the word light and casual as it left his lips. “It’s been forever since we all hung out like that.”

Emma lit up instantly. “Yes! Finally! You guys are always bailing on me when I suggest it.”

Ray raised an eyebrow. “Because your idea of a sleepover is horror movies and five types of sugar.”

“Exactly.” She grinned. “So when are you two free?”

Norman forced a smile, eyes flicking to Ray. “Tomorrow night?”

Perfect timing.
Two days before the Bloodmoon.
His last chance.

---

It was Emma’s house. Bright and safe and full of warm smells and laughter. The kind of place where evil shouldn’t exist.

They watched movies. Played stupid games. Ray got chocolate on his shirt. Emma laughed so hard she snorted. And Norman played along—smiling, teasing, leaning back like he wasn’t counting every hour until the sky turned red.

He hadn't been able to sleep the night before. Or the night before that. Not since he heard it:

“Mark him by the Bloodmoon.”
Lucia’s voice. Sweet. Deadly.
Cyrus had leaned in, eyes gleaming.
“Or we will.”

They didn’t need permission. They just needed timing.
And Ray—Ray was still walking around like he had time. Like he was safe.

He wasn’t.

Norman sat on the edge of the sleeping bag, watching Emma curled up on the couch. She’d passed out first, as usual. A bowl of popcorn balanced dangerously on the armrest beside her. Her breathing was soft and even.

Ray had fallen asleep second, stretched out half on the rug and half on a pillow, one arm thrown over his face to block the flickering TV light.

Norman didn’t sleep.
He couldn’t.

He just… sat there.

And watched Ray breathe.

---

Normans inner monologue screamed.

You don’t have to do this.

You should never do this.

This is a betrayal.

This is protection.

This is wrong.
This is the only thing standing between Ray and eternity with two monsters who think he’s theirs.

He gripped the edge of his sleeves, nails digging into his own wrists. He hadn't fed on a human since that incident. He never would have again, if this hadn’t happened. If Ray hadn’t been targeted. If the Bloodmoon wasn’t rising in two days.

If he wasn’t going to lose him.

He remembered Cyrus’s smile. Lucia’s gaze on Ray’s throat.
Their voices, laced with hunger and promise:

“Your little human’s cute. I wonder if he’ll cry or moan when we mark him.”

Norman’s fingers curled into fists.

They’ll ruin him. Twist him. Own him.

I won’t let them.

His eyes dropped to Ray’s sleeping form.

But you will? Is this any better?

Norman trembled, cold and wired and cracked down the middle.

I won’t take much. Just enough to leave the mark. The kind that tells other vampires: ‘He’s mine.’
That’s all. That’s all. He won’t even feel it. He won’t even remember.

His breath hitched.

You’re a monster.

Then I’ll be the kind of monster that protects what he loves.
---

He moved in silence, knees brushing the rug. Every shift of weight felt like it echoed through the room, but Emma didn’t stir.

Ray’s face was half-hidden by his arm. Peaceful. He always looked younger in sleep. Softer.

Norman gently lifted the sleeve of Ray’s shirt. Lowered the collar just enough. The pale curve of his neck was smooth and unmarked—pure human skin.

Not for long.

Norman leaned down. Slowly. His fangs pressed against his bottom lip like they knew what was coming.

He inhaled.
And bit.

Ray twitched faintly. A short, nearly inaudible gasp in his sleep. But he didn’t wake.

Norman’s fangs slid in smooth, like piercing the skin of a fruit. Warmth filled his mouth instantly—Ray’s warmth. His blood was unlike anything he’d ever tasted.

Sweet. Sour. Sharp.
Like green apple candy melting into a tang of iron.

It took everything in Norman not to drink deeper. Not to bite again. His hands trembled as he pulled away, his lips stained red.

Ray stirred.

Norman froze, blood on his tongue, panic racing in his chest.
But Ray only rolled slightly, breathing steady. Still asleep.

Norman sat back. Heart pounding. He wiped his mouth and examined the bite.

It wasn’t deep.
Wasn’t messy.
Just enough.
Just enough to mark him.

A clean crescent of twin punctures—already closing, already fading, but glowing faintly to any vampire’s eye.

A warning. A claim.

He’s mine.

Norman sank back into the corner of the room, knees pulled to his chest. His mouth still tasted like Ray. His heart felt like it was burning.

He was a liar. A monster. A coward.

But Ray was safe.

For now.

---

The morning after the sleepover arrived with gray skies and a sharp chill, as if the universe had rolled over in its sleep and pulled the clouds tighter. The streets were damp from an early drizzle, and the wind held a biting edge that snuck through jacket seams.

Ray arrived at school rubbing the side of his neck, fingers constantly drifting to the skin beneath his collar. He winced slightly every time his backpack shifted against it.

Emma nudged him with her elbow. “What’s up with you?”

Ray let out a low groan. “I think I slept weird or something. My neck is killing me.”

She gave him a look. “Slept weird, huh? You passed out on the floor like a crime scene victim.”

“Exactly. Your floor is evil.”

Norman walked just a step behind them, silent, but his eyes flicked toward Ray’s fingers every time they moved to touch the bite.

It wasn’t bleeding. It had healed fast—faster than a wound should—but it was still sensitive. Ray wouldn’t remember the bite, not consciously, but his body did. And Norman could hear it in his pulse—elevated, confused.

He hated this.

He hated himself.

But worse than that would be losing Ray.

---

The school rooftop was empty—students weren’t allowed up here without a pass, but that had never stopped certain people.

Norman stood near the railing, the cold wind tousling his white hair, his uniform jacket unbuttoned. Pale skin, perfect posture, a face carved from porcelain—he was a vision of calm.

Until Lucia appeared from the stairwell, followed by Cyrus.

Both of them wore smiles that didn’t reach their eyes.

Lucia’s long hair was tied back in a neat twist, her blazer crisp and perfect, like she’d just stepped out of a designer catalog. Her lips were red today—not lipstick. Blood red.

Cyrus leaned against the door, arms crossed. He didn’t bother pretending to be human. His eyes glowed faintly in the shadows, cold and calculating.

Lucia was the one to speak first.

“You really bit him.”

Norman didn’t flinch. “He was in danger.”

“You’re a hypocrite.” Cyrus’s voice was smooth, like glass scraping stone. “You lecture us about self-control. Then you break our deal the second you get jealous.”

Norman’s eyes didn’t waver. “I didn’t turn him into my Eve.”

“No,” Lucia said, voice sharper now. “You just claimed him. Without his consent. Without explaining anything. That’s worse.”

Cyrus stepped forward. “You know what that kind of mark means. It’s territorial. Primitive. Filthy. And now we can’t touch him.”

Norman’s smile was cold. “Exactly.”

Lucia’s eyes narrowed. “That’s your play? To stall us? You think you can just delay this?”

Norman’s voice dropped, low and formal. “According to the International Vampiric Accord, Section 3, Subsection D, Article 47—‘In the event that a registered vampire places a recognized claim mark on an unawakened human, and said human is not converted into their bonded Eve within the next full Bloodmoon, all other vampires must honor a mandatory one-month non-engagement period. This includes attempts of conversion, hunting, and romantic coercion. Violation of this law is punishable by a tribunal of peers and may result in permanent exile or execution, depending on intent.’”

Silence.

The wind howled.

Lucia’s eyes burned. “You memorized the damn article?”

“I helped write the draft for the European branch when I was twelve,” Norman said, his tone razor-sharp. “I remember every word.”

“You’re bluffing,” Cyrus snapped. “He’s not even your Eve.”

“Not yet.” Norman stepped forward, eyes gleaming like frost under moonlight. “But he’s not yours either. You had your chance. And now—by law—you are forbidden from approaching him for thirty days.”

Lucia hissed. “You think that’ll stop us?”

“I think you’ll stop yourselves,” Norman said, voice ice and steel. “Because neither of you are stupid enough to risk exile. And certainly not over a boy who doesn’t even know what you are.”

Cyrus took another step forward, but Norman didn’t move. The wind caught his jacket, making it flare slightly, like wings.

Lucia grabbed Cyrus’s arm. “Enough.”

Cyrus growled. “He won’t stay yours forever.”

“No,” Norman said, gaze cutting. “But he’ll stay safe. For now.”

---

Ray rubbed his neck again and winced.

Emma leaned closer, whispering, “Are you sure you didn’t get stung by a spider or something?”

“Do spiders have fangs?” Ray muttered, then blinked. “No, wait, that’s a dumb question—yes, they do.”

Emma frowned. “Is it like… bruised or swollen?”

“I can’t see it properly. It’s weird. It hurts, but not like an injury. More like… something’s wrong.”

Norman, across the room, stared down at his notes, pencil unmoving.

Ray’s fingers brushed the side of his neck again. Two faint pinpricks.

And under his breath: “Feels like a bite.”

---

The sun hung low in the sky, bleeding amber light through the windows as the final class ended. The entire building seemed quieter than usual, as if even the walls were holding their breath.

Ray slung his bag over his shoulder, still rubbing his neck. “I’m heading home. My neck’s still acting up.”

Emma was already halfway down the hall. “Wait! Aren’t we grabbing snacks first?”

Ray gave Norman a look—mildly exasperated, like he was used to this dynamic. “Are you coming?”

Norman didn’t answer immediately. His gaze lingered on the end of the hallway—on Adrian, leaning casually against the wall, and Selene, who had just finished whispering something into Emma’s ear with a too-gentle smile.

They were getting bolder.

And tonight was the Bloodmoon.

“No,” Norman said at last. “You guys go ahead. I’ve got something to finish.”

Emma blinked. “You okay?”

Norman smiled, that perfectly rehearsed, gentle smile. “Always.”

---

The science lab was empty, bathed in the pale red glow of the Bloodmoon filtering through the blinds. The school was almost fully closed for the night.

Adrian sat on a desk, legs crossed at the ankle, sipping blood from a crystal flask like it was wine. Selene stood near the window, moonlight trailing down her silver hair, her icy eyes unreadable.

Norman walked in without knocking.

Adrian raised his brows. “You know, you’re starting to act less and less like the quiet top student everyone loves.”

“I stopped caring what humans think when you set your sights on her,” Norman said.

Selene tilted her head. “We haven’t done anything.”

“But you will,” Norman said quietly. “Soon.”

Adrian shrugged. “She smells sweet. Sunshine and strawberries. It’s not our fault your little human friend glows like a walking snack.”

Norman’s eyes were sharp. “This isn’t about hunger.”

“No,” Selene admitted. “It’s about pleasure. The thrill. You’ve been drinking synth-blood too long, Norman. You’ve forgotten what it feels like to taste something warm, real—to drain a soul that trusts you.”

Norman’s fists clenched, though his face remained still. “You think this is a game?”

Adrian smiled. “Isn’t it always?”

Norman stepped forward. “I’m invoking a territorial decree.”

Selene blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” His voice was ice. “Section 6, Article 19: In the event that a vampire’s human companion is targeted for predation by another vampire, the original vampire may invoke a protective bond, which extends for a Bloodmoon cycle if publicly declared in the presence of the aggressors."

“You’re bluffing again,” Adrian said flatly.

Norman reached into his coat and pulled out a thin metal seal. Etched with ancient vampiric script. Silver. Recognized by every vampire authority.

He dropped it onto the lab table with a clink.

“No. I’m not.”

Selene narrowed her eyes. “A protective bond? You’ll be bound to her until the next Bloodmoon. That’s over a month. You won’t be able to hunt. Feed. Not from anyone.”

Norman’s voice lowered. “I’m aware of the cost.”

Silence stretched.

Adrian leaned forward. “Why her? You’re not in love with her.”

“No,” Norman said, calm and unblinking. “But she’s mine.”

Selene laughed. “Even worse than love. Possession.”

“No,” Norman said, “responsibility.”

Adrian stood, now visibly annoyed. “You’ll regret this. The Council won’t like it.”

Norman stepped into Adrian’s space, just close enough that the tips of their shoes almost touched. His voice dropped to a whisper, just for the vampires to hear.

“I already regret a lot of things. Letting you two walk into this school was one of them. But I will not let you touch her. I’ll go down first.”

His eyes flared—bright crimson for just a moment, like lightning striking in a snowstorm.

Adrian’s mouth curled into a smirk, but he stepped back.

Selene sighed. “So dramatic, as always. Fine. She’s off our list… for now.”

---

Norman sat outside the dorm, head leaning back against the wall, throat aching from restraint, from everything.

He’d gone too far now.

He was bound to Emma. Marked Ray.

His own kind would start to ask questions soon. But for now, both of them were safe.

Inside Ray's dorm, Ray sat cross-legged on his bed, chewing a chocolate bar.

“My neck still hurts,” he muttered.

Emma glanced up. “Maybe it’s a stress thing. You’ve been tense lately.”

“Maybe,” Ray said, rubbing the spot again. “Feels like something’s under the skin, though.”

Norman, listening from outside, let out a slow breath.

Just a little longer. He just had to survive a little longer.

---

Norman receives a summons from the Council. It’s delivered in the form of a raven with a silver sigil sealed in bloodwax—a rare and terrifying message only high-ranking vampires receive. The Council knows Norman invoked Section 6, Article 19, and they are not pleased.

Location: The Crimson Hall — Undisclosed underground location

The Chamber was cold.

Even for a vampire.

A round table carved from obsidian sat at the heart of the room, each seat filled by one of the seven Council members. Red-glass chandeliers lit the chamber in an eerie glow, illuminating the crests and relics of vampire houses long extinct.

Norman stood alone in the center of the circle. No guards. No chains. Just seven pairs of eyes watching him like he was already prey.

High Councilor Varion was the first to speak. His voice echoed, low and smooth like silk soaked in venom.

“Norman. Age 18. Born into the pure line of the Northern Frostbloods also called Velkers. Enrolled in the human sector by choice. We summoned you here to answer a single question.”

He leaned forward.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Norman didn't flinch. “I invoked Section 6, Article 19. It was legal.”

Councilor Mireya, who always wore a mourning veil, laughed coldly. “Legal, yes. Wise? No. You bound yourself to a human girl during a Bloodmoon and marked another without following through. Tell me, child, do you enjoy playing with ancient laws like fire?”

Another Councilor, Soran, tapped the table. “You marked a human boy. Claimed a girl. Both without disclosure. Why?”

Norman met their eyes. “Because I had no choice.”

A heavy silence followed.

“Explain,” Varion said. Not a request—a command.

Norman nodded once.

“Four vampires transferred into my school from the French Academy. They targeted my closest human companions—Emma and Ray. Selene and Adrian planned to feast on Emma. Lucia and Cyrus planned to turn Ray into their Eve.”

There was a ripple of energy around the chamber. Even the Council rarely used the term Eve lightly.

Mireya’s tone sharpened. “And you believed a Bloodmoon binding would deter them?”

“It has,” Norman replied. “So far.”

“‘So far’ is not permanent,” growled Councilor Rhaziel. “Do you realize the danger you've put yourself in? The entire concept of Eves is sacred. If Lucia and Cyrus proceed, they’ll break ancient laws.”

“Not if I beat them to it,” Norman said, eyes flashing.

A pause.

Then Varion’s lips curled into something unreadable.

“You intend to claim the boy?”

“I will do what’s necessary to protect them both,” Norman said. “That’s my answer.”

Mireya stood. Her veil drifted around her like smoke.

“The Council does not take lightly to youngbloods warping law to their convenience.”

Norman lifted his chin. “Then punish me.”

He let them see his eyes. Crimson. Pure-blood. Not a drop of synthetic in sight.

“I’ll take the consequences. But don’t touch them.”

Varion narrowed his eyes. “You speak of consequence like you understand it. Very well.”

He picked up a knife carved from a single black fang and held it over a scroll of blood-parchment.

“I sentence you to Surveillance. Two enforcers will be stationed in your territory for one month. You will report all vampire contact. You are forbidden from turning your marked human into your Eve during this cycle without formal request and evaluation.”

Mireya leaned in.

“Should your humans die under your watch, Norman, their blood will stain your soul. Forever.”

Norman didn’t blink.

“Understood.”

Varion carved a final stroke into the scroll. “Dismissed."

Norman exited the Crimson Hall and stepped out into the cold moonlight, breath unsteady.

Surveillance. That was better than exile. Better than forced detainment. But not by much.

And it meant only one thing:

He was running out of time.

The Council had thrown a chain around his neck—and Lucia, Cyrus, Adrian, and Selene would smell it.

He needed a new plan.

Because the next time the Bloodmoon came… either Ray and Emma would be safe.

Or he’d burn the whole vampire world down trying.

---

Location: Norman’s Apartment | Morning After the Council Summons

Norman had barely closed the door behind him when he smelled them.

Ash and iron.

He turned, slowly.

Two figures sat in his living room like they owned it—one lounging on the window sill, the other calmly reading a book that hadn’t been printed in over 200 years.

The man on the windowsill was tall and sharp, like someone carved from marble and dipped in night. Eyes golden, almost glowing. His suit was too nice for a high school district. The woman across from him had silver hair falling in perfect coils down her back, her face emotionless as she flipped a page with her gloved hand.

“Norman.” the man drawled, grinning lazily. “Council said you were pale, but they didn’t mention pretty.”

Norman didn’t react. “You’re the enforcers.”

The woman shut her book with a soft click. “We prefer Observers. Less hostile.”

“Names?” Norman asked, staying near the door. Not because he was scared. Just calculating.

The man jumped down from the sill with fluid grace. “I’m Elias. And the quiet one is Selin.”

Selin didn’t look up. “We’re not here to chat.”

“I gathered,” Norman said, crossing the room and dropping into a chair with carefully practiced boredom.

Elias chuckled, circling him like a predator with too much time. “So, the infamous Frostblood heir finally went soft on a couple of humans, huh? Can’t say we didn’t see this coming.”

Selin finally met Norman’s gaze. Her eyes were like polished steel.

“You invoked a protective law. We’re here to make sure you don’t abuse it.”

Norman kept his voice level. “I won’t.”

Elias leaned closer. “Then you won’t mind us tagging along. Watching. Listening. Maybe even joining you at school. Just to make sure everything’s… balanced.”

Norman’s lips twitched in a smile. “You’ll blend right in.”

Selin rose. “Here are the terms, in case your memory is still damp from the Council's boot on your neck.”

She handed him a small scroll.

Council Law: Section 12, Article 4 – Surveillance Enforcement
“Upon invoking Section 6, Article 19 (Marking of Human by Non-Bonded Vampire), said vampire shall be placed under the observation of two neutral Council enforcers for a period no less than one lunar cycle. The enforcers shall:

1. Accompany the subject during all relevant interactions involving the marked human.

2. Report all attempts at bonding, feeding, or interference with competing vampire parties.

3. Refrain from direct involvement unless law is broken or the human is in danger.”

Failure to comply will result in Immediate Tribunal Summons.

Elias grinned. “Basically, don’t screw up.”

Norman stood. “Do either of you know what Adrian, Selene, Lucia, or Cyrus are planning?”

Selin’s gaze sharpened. “Not our job to care. We’re here for you, not them.”

Norman's jaw clenched. “If they make a move on Emma or Ray—”

Elias cut in, too fast and too amused. “Then we get to see what you’ll do. Theatrics are always fun.”

Selin added, “And if you break the rules while trying to protect them, we report that too.”

Norman breathed slowly, carefully, like he wasn’t already burning inside. “Noted.”

Selin walked to the window. “We’ll meet you at school. Try to smile. You're just a teenager, after all.”

And with that, they were gone.

But the scent of ash and iron lingered.

---

Later that Day in the School Hallway Ray rubbed his neck with a wince as they walked toward their next class.

“Seriously, what the hell bit me?” he muttered. “Feels like I slept with a stapler.”

Norman froze for half a second. “Mosquito?” he offered weakly.

Ray rolled his eyes. “A mosquito that left a perfect ring of puncture marks?”

Emma raised a brow. “Are you sure you didn’t scratch yourself on a branch again?”

Norman forced a laugh, but his stomach twisted. The mark was visible now. Barely. Just enough for vampires to recognize it—and just subtle enough that Ray hadn’t connected it to anything… unnatural.

And now Elias and Selin were watching. Always watching.

He was running out of moves.

---

Norman went behind the old music room after school. It was a secluded hallway—the kind of place no one really used anymore. Old lockers lined the cracked tile floors, and broken instruments had been abandoned behind frosted glass. The perfect place for something not meant to be seen.

Norman got the message in his locker: “Come alone. Now.”

He did. Of course, he did.

Lucia and Cyrus were already waiting, leaning against the wall like they’d never known weakness. Lucia’s hair shimmered under the flickering light. Cyrus looked like someone carved from ice and shadow, his eyes gleaming a deep, lustrous red as Norman entered.

“Finally,” Cyrus murmured. “Thought you’d hide behind your enforcers.”

“They’re not bodyguards,” Norman said smoothly. “Just observers.”

“And yet,” Lucia said with a purr, stepping forward, “you seem so confident with them nearby. Almost as if you forgot what we are.”

Norman didn’t flinch. “Vampire Law, Section 6, Article 19,” he said calmly. “Once a human is marked by a vampire, no other vampire may initiate courtship, coercion, or emotional manipulation of said human for a duration of thirty-days. Violation results in automatic tribunal. And trust me—you do not want to be called in front of the council.”

Cyrus’s jaw twitched. “You think that law scares us?”

“No,” Norman said. “I think the consequences should.”

Lucia took another step forward, gaze glowing faintly. “We’re not backing off, Norman. Marking Ray delayed us, but don’t think it’ll stop us. You didn’t make him yours on the Bloodmoon, which means the claim isn’t eternal. We’ll wait the month. We can be patient.”

Norman’s fists clenched behind his back. “He’s not yours.”

Lucia’s voice dropped to something dangerous and reverent. “He’s perfect, Norman. Have you looked at him? That mind. That fire. That loneliness he hides so well. He’s every bit the Eve we’ve waited centuries for.”

Cyrus’s grin widened, sharp and cold. “Count your days, Frostblood.”

Lucia leaned in close, her breath a whisper of winter on his cheek. “The moment your protection ends—we’ll be there.”

And then they vanished like shadows cut by light.

The second they were gone, Elias and Selin stepped from the other end of the hallway. No footsteps. No warning. Just there.

Elias gave a slow clap, his gold eyes glittering. “Not bad. Quoting Article 19 to a pair like them takes nerve. Or suicidal boredom.”

Selin tilted her head. “You didn’t escalate. You held to the law.”

“I don’t need praise,” Norman muttered, his voice low.

“Not praise,” Selin replied. “Just facts. You bought yourself time. Use it wisely.”

Norman said nothing. He turned and walked away.

---

The apartment was too quiet. The kind of quiet that made every old floorboard creak louder, every gust of wind outside feel like a warning.

Norman sat at his desk, ancient books and digitized Council law files spread across his screen. Scrolls of vampire legal jargon, rituals, bonds, enforcement codes—some in languages no human tongue had spoken in centuries.

He’d marked Ray. That gave him 28 days.

He’d invoked protective custody on Emma. That gave him 45 days.

But after that… nothing.

They’d come for Ray again. They’d come for Emma with more hunger than ever. And there was no law to stop them after the windows closed.

Unless…

He flipped through a dusty old volume.

“Article 26, Subclause 9: A vampire may place a human under permanent Sanctuary status via High Council appeal if said human’s death would result in destabilization of vampire-human relations, or if the human is considered essential to vampire equilibrium within a feeding-neutral zone.”*

That was a long shot. It required evidence, leverage, and political maneuvering.

He kept searching.

“Section 11, Ritual Bonding: Two vampires may bond themselves to the same human with the human’s willing consent during a Solstice or Bloodmoon ceremony. Said bond is irreversible once completed, and renders the human off-limits to all external courtship attempts.*”

He stared at that one longer than he meant to.

It meant… if he and someone else—Emma, maybe—bonded with Ray, no one could touch him. Ever.

But Ray didn’t know a thing.

And Emma didn’t even know vampires were real.

Norman leaned back, dragging a hand over his face.

He was running out of moves. Out of time. Out of options.

A vampire never felt fear the way humans did. But Norman wasn't like the others. He remembered what it was like to be weak. To be small. To be terrified.

He wouldn’t let Ray feel that.

He wouldn’t let Emma bleed.

Even if he had to burn for it.

---

Ray’s laugh was soft, and infrequent, like a rare flower blooming in moonlight. But today, it rang in the hallway—just a fleeting chuckle as he walked with Emma and that insufferable Norman.

Lucia watched from the second-floor window, her crimson eyes narrowed.

Norman had marked him. She could smell it. The faint, bitter trace of blood—burned onto Ray’s neck like an invisible brand. It wasn’t visible to human eyes, but to her, it glowed like ink under moonlight.

So that’s how you want to play it, she thought.

“I could bite his wrist,” she murmured to herself. “Just a little. Make him want it.”

But no. She wasn’t foolish. Not like some of the youngbloods. She knew the law. She’d read it a hundred times. Norman had bought himself twenty-eight days of peace, but not forever.

She would wait.

Lucia leaned back against the cold glass, lips curling into a smirk.

“Mark him all you want, Norman. He’s not yours. Not yet. And on the twenty-ninth day, I’ll come dressed in silk and ruin.”

---

His fingers moved with precision as he cleaned the blades inside his locker—not for killing. No. These weren’t weapons. They were tools of artistry. Of fear. The kind he used when he used to hunt.

Cyrus hadn’t hunted in over a century. He’d adapted, played nice, followed the Council’s laws. Drank substitutes. Mingled with humans. Pretended.

But Ray stirred something in him he hadn’t felt in years.

Not hunger. Not quite.

Purpose.

Ray had that weight in his eyes—like he’d already lived too long, even in a teenager’s body. He was sharp, broken in the right places, full of shadows Cyrus wanted to claim and wrap in velvet.

He hadn’t even touched Ray, and already he was spiraling.

Lucia would make him hers. Cyrus wasn’t against it. They were partners. A bonded pair. Turning Ray together would be exquisite.

But Norman—

Cyrus grit his teeth.

Norman had the audacity to mark him. To claim him like some caged thing.

Count your days, he had said. And he meant it.

---

“Emma’s eyes remind me of firelight,” Adrian murmured, his voice soft as he perched on the rooftop, sketchbook in hand. His charcoal stick moved across the paper, carving her outline.

Unlike Cyrus and Lucia, Adrian didn’t crave Eve.

He craved flame.

Emma had something raw in her soul, a golden light that wouldn’t stop burning. Most humans dulled over time. Not her. She glowed like a hearth during a storm.

The wanted to taste that light. Just once.

Selene said they had to wait. That the timing wasn’t right. The council was watching. Norman had made his move, so they had to bide theirs.

But Adrian didn’t want to wait.

He looked at his sketch. The wild hair. The bright grin. The pure, unguarded laugh.

“She’d taste like summer,” he whispered. “Like oranges and sparks and heat.”

---

Selene was cold. Always had been. Even when she was a child, warmth had never found her.

She sat under the bleachers now, knees drawn up, watching Emma from a distance.

She didn’t hate Norman. Not truly. He was old blood, powerful, careful.

But she resented him.

He had everything—his mark on Ray, his favor with the Council, and his damn noble reputation. Selene wanted to crack it all open and watch what spilled out.

But more than that… she wanted to see Emma afraid.

Selene didn’t understand Emma. Didn't understand that softness, that empathy, that sunshine. It irritated her. How one girl could make so many people orbit like she was gravity.

Selene wanted to end that orbit.

Adrian wanted a taste. Selene wanted to shatter.

They’d both get what they wanted.

Eventually.

---

That night, all four of them gathered in the old chapel ruins on the edge of town. Moonlight filtered through shattered stained glass, throwing color across cracked stone.

Lucia stood with her arms crossed, crimson eyes blazing. “He’s stalled us.”

Cyrus sharpened a blade, slow and methodical. “For now.”

Adrian sketched a new portrait of Emma, hands smudged in charcoal. “She’s glowing again. I want her.”

Selene crouched on the edge of the altar. “We’ll wait. We’ll smile. We’ll let Norman think he’s won.”

Then Lucia stepped forward, voice low and rich with promise.

“But the second the laws expire…”

Cyrus: “He’ll watch us take what he thought was his.”

Selene: “He’ll scream with that pretty voice of his.”

Adrian: “And then maybe, just maybe, I’ll paint the moment his heart breaks.”

The wind howled through the broken chapel.

Time was running out.

And monsters always kept the best for last.

---

Norman stood alone on the roof of the east wing, staring out at the horizon as gray morning light bled across the sky.

It was too early for students to be awake. Too early for teachers to patrol. But not too early for a vampire who hadn’t slept in centuries.

His hands were curled into fists inside his coat pockets, white-knuckled, trembling slightly.

They had marked Ray with their attention. They had stalked Emma like wolves watching a lamb.

And Norman couldn’t understand it.
Why them?

There were hundreds of students in this school. Some smarter. Some sweeter. Some lonelier. Some more willing.

But somehow, it was always Emma.
It was always Ray.

And he was tired.

---

He confronted them in the old greenhouse.

The sun streamed in through cracked glass and dust, illuminating the curling vines that had overtaken the building long ago. The door creaked as Norman stepped inside.

Lucia and Cyrus were there, leaning against a broken stone bench like royalty in exile. Adrian sketched quietly by the window. Selene sat on the windowsill, one leg swinging lazily.

They looked up as he entered, the air tightening instantly.

“I have a question,” Norman said, voice flat.

Lucia tilted her head, feigning curiosity. “You’re always so polite, Norman. Go ahead.”

His pale eyes gleamed in the light. “Why them?”

Selene raised a brow. “Pardon?”

“You heard me. Out of all the humans here—why Ray and Emma?” His voice cracked slightly on their names, and he hated that. He tightened his fists again. “What is it about them?”

Adrian smiled. “They shine.”

“They burn,” Selene corrected.

Cyrus stood slowly, running a hand through his dark hair. “We’re not idiots, Norman. Don’t pretend they’re ordinary. You know what they are. Even if they don’t.”

Norman’s eyes narrowed. “They’re human.”

Lucia laughed softly. “Are they?”

He didn’t respond.

Because there was something off. Deep down, he knew. Ray was brilliant—intuitive in a way that made even the Council nervous. He had an ancient heaviness about him. A tragic kind of soul.

And Emma—Emma felt like spring incarnate. The kind of person who changed everyone around her. Healed them. She was light, warmth, the kind of love that even vampires were drawn to.

Cyrus stepped closer.

“Do you know how many centuries we’ve walked this earth, Norman?” he asked, voice quiet. “Do you think we haven’t seen a thousand Emmas and Rays? We have. But not like them.”

Norman’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Then leave them alone.”

Lucia’s red eyes flashed. “Mark him all you want. Delay the inevitable. But we’ve tasted it. Their souls, their scent—”

“You haven’t touched them,” Norman snapped.

Lucia smiled like it was a challenge. “Yet.”

---

Norman left the greenhouse with his blood boiling.

He walked blindly through the halls, too furious to think clearly. The fluorescent lights flickered above him, but he didn’t care.

Why them? he thought again.

Was it just their brightness? Their souls? Their humanity?

Or was it something else?

Was it fate?

He hated that word. Hated how powerless it made him feel.

For years, Norman had survived by controlling every variable. Every moment. Every risk. He planned, calculated, adjusted. And he won.

But Emma and Ray—he couldn’t control them. He couldn’t stop their light from drawing predators like moths to flame.

And the worst part?

He didn’t even know if he could keep them safe once the laws expired.

---

Back in class, Ray rubbed his neck.

Norman’s eyes twitched.

The mark had held. Barely. But the Bloodmoon was over. And the clock was now ticking down on Emma’s protection, too.

Twenty-seven days. That’s all he had left.

Twenty-seven days to find a loophole.

Twenty-seven days to outplay four ancient vampires.

Twenty- seven days to protect the only two people who had ever mattered to him.

---

The library was deserted.

It was Sunday evening, and the rest of the school was either asleep or out enjoying the final day of the weekend. But Norman sat alone beneath the flickering antique chandelier, surrounded by ancient tomes and records—most of which no human would even know existed.

The shelves weren’t labeled. They didn’t need to be. He remembered every title, every page, every dusty whisper of vampire law burned into his memory from the years he spent with the Council. Back when he had no friends. Back when he’d believed power was safety.

He was beginning to think he had been wrong.

Because power didn’t mean control.

And if he couldn’t find a way to protect them—not just for a month, not for some temporary reprieve—but permanently—then he would lose them. Either to death… or to something even worse.

---

He pulled out the crimson-bound copy of Codex Nocturna: Revised Laws of the Sanguine Court, placing it gently on the table.

Volume II. The thick one.

He flipped quickly, pages blurring until he found the one he needed.

ARTICLE 52.3 – “Temporary Claim.”

In the case where a vampire marks a human without binding them as an Eve during the Bloodmoon, a standard buffer of 30 human days is enforced. No other vampire may approach the marked human with romantic or transformational intention during this time. Violation of this clause results in penalty by Council blade.

Thirty days. No loopholes there. That law was airtight. He knew—they’d made it airtight for cases like this.

But what about the intent? Could he argue that Lucia and Cyrus had shown signs of coercion before he marked Ray? If he could prove predatory manipulation… maybe the Council would extend the buffer?

No. Too risky. Too subjective. And vampires were great at pretending to be innocent.

He turned the page.

ARTICLE 53.8 – “Long-Term Protection of Human Vessels.”

A human may be listed under official Protection Status for a maximum of 49 consecutive human days if deemed at risk due to vampire courtship, feeding, or abduction. Protection must be formally filed with the Council under documented threat.

That explained Emma’s protection. He’d pulled every favor and used every last ounce of leverage he had left to get her that. But Ray—

Ray didn’t qualify.

Because there wasn’t a “documented threat” yet.

Because Norman had protected him too well.

A bitter smile touched his lips. How ironic.

---

He leaned back in the old library chair, eyes scanning the spines of older volumes.

There had to be something. A clause. A footnote. A technicality.

He stood and walked to the far wall. The restricted section.

He didn’t need a key. He was the key.

The shelves creaked as he pulled out a blackened leather book so old it barely had a cover left. The first generation of vampire law. Before revisions. Before the court became bureaucratic and polished.

He flipped through slowly this time. Eyes scanning for terms: “Eve.” “Protection.” “Consent.” “Bond.” “Ownership.” “Marks.”

And there—one line made his breath still.

ARTICLE 19.7 – “Resonant Soul Clauses.”

In exceedingly rare circumstances, a human’s soul may display a resonance incompatible with multiple transformations. In such cases, if a vampire claims resonance via partial bond, all future bond attempts are rendered invalid unless the original claim is removed voluntarily. Resonance claims require minimal consumption of blood and intent—thus not requiring a full Eve conversion.

Norman blinked.

This… this was it.

Ray’s soul—he remembered the taste. That green-apple sharpness, the rare texture, like light trying to fight through shadow. It was unique. Resonant.

If Norman claimed a resonance bond and filed it, it could invalidate all future Eve attempts—for everyone else.

Even if he never made Ray his Eve.

He stared at the page, heart thudding.

There were risks. It would be challenged. It would raise red flags. He’d have to prove the soul resonance in front of Council Enforcers. And Ray might end up being questioned. Watched. Maybe even studied.

But… he wouldn’t be taken. Not forcibly turned. Not devoured. Not corrupted.

Norman exhaled slowly.

It was better than nothing.

---

He began preparing the documents that same night. Quietly. Cautiously.

Forging the right Council contacts. Writing up the partial resonance report. Using his position, his age, his reputation—whatever he could.

And when the forms were nearly complete, he wrote down one line in his neat, immaculate script.

Name of Human Soul (Resonant Claim): Ray

He stared at it for a long time.

And then whispered to himself,

“I’ll keep you safe, Ray. Even if you never know why.”

---

The parchment was shaking in his hand.

Not visibly — no one would notice. Norman’s control was too precise, his facade too composed. But inside his ribcage, his bones felt hollow with pressure. With stakes. With the weight of Ray’s safety depending on this moment.

This wasn’t like when he filed for Emma’s protection. That was politics, favors, strings pulled in the shadows. This… this was law. Old law.

Law so ancient and untouched, it might as well be sacred scripture.

He stood alone before the Sanguine Verification Tribunal, a chamber so old it was carved into the mountain beneath the Council’s northern stronghold — unseen by most vampires in the modern world.

Three Enforcers sat above him, behind a desk of obsidian stone veined with silver. Their robes marked them as neutral adjudicators, bound by law, not loyalty.

Behind them, a glowing sigil pulsed on the back wall — the Emblem of the First Night, the symbol of the primordial code of vampire-kind.

Norman bowed, expression empty.

“Petitioner Norman, 129th lineage of Velkar, submit your Resonant Claim for verification,” intoned the middle Enforcer, his voice a chorus of low notes folded into one.

Norman stepped forward and placed the sealed parchment on the pedestal.

“Claim submitted for: Ray. No surname listed.”

“Resonance nature?”

“Partial bond. Not Eve. Minimal consumption,” Norman replied crisply. “Enough for soul signature recognition.”

The Enforcer on the left raised an eyebrow. “Soul resonance laws are rarely invoked. You understand the scrutiny that will follow.”

“I do.”

“Do you understand that false Resonant Claims result in execution, regardless of lineage?”

“I do.”

“Then proceed to evidence.”

---

The first attempt was rejected.

Not enough proof. His description of Ray’s blood and soul wasn’t considered unique enough. They requested more detailed flavor profile breakdowns, emotional response charts, and a signature analysis.

The second attempt was worse.

They called in a secondary witness to review the file. Selin. One of the Enforcers assigned to watch him.

Selin tilted his head after reviewing Norman’s data and asked, “Are you in love with this human?”

Norman’s mask didn’t falter. “Irrelevant to the claim.”

“Mm.” Selin smirked faintly. “But still, useful to know.”

Rejection. Again.

---

Norman stayed up every night after that, digging through old resonance cases, tweaking his language, removing any hints of romantic bias. He reframed the bond as a rare harmonic dissonance, pointing out Ray’s soul bore identical traits to only two recorded humans in the last 300 years.

He called it “Sanguine Variance Type 5-C.” That made it sound clinical. Coded. Legitimate.

He created a spectrum of resonance match rates between vampire blood and human souls. His own rating with Ray was a 97.9% imprint match. Near perfect.

He included soul-ripple memory imprints: how Ray’s blood triggered both protective instincts and emotional echoes, indicating a hybrid resonance.

He wrote 67 pages. Cited 14 precedent cases. Cross-referenced them with ancient legal scrolls.

On the fifth attempt, the petition went to Council Vote.

He was summoned to the same chamber.

This time, the air felt thicker. He could feel the presence of Elias and Selin behind him, sitting in the shadow seats for enforcer observation.

The Tribunal Head read aloud:

“Resonant Claim filed by Norman, Velkar line, under Article 19.7 of the Sanguine Codex, has passed all preliminary scrutiny. The Council of Verification votes now on legal authentication.”

A pause. Silence deep enough to feel like drowning.

“In favor… five votes.”

Norman’s fingers clenched.

“Opposed… two.”

Another pause.

“One abstained.”

The sigil on the wall behind the Council pulsed crimson.

“Majority passes. The Resonant Claim has been legally verified."

Norman exhaled — not visibly. Not dramatically. But deeply.

Ray was his.
Not in a way that would ever take away Ray’s humanity or choice.
Not in a possessive way.
But in a way that meant no one else could touch him.

No vampire could mark him. No one could steal him. Not without violating one of the oldest laws still upheld by the Council.

And now Norman had eternity to figure out how to tell Ray why.

After the Council left, Elias and Selin approached quietly.

“Well,” Elias muttered, arms folded. “You got what you wanted.”

“You worked for it,” Selin added, more impressed. “Five failed cases in the last century. You’re the first to make one stick.”

“Let me guess,” Elias added dryly. “You still aren’t going to tell the boy?”

Norman turned to them slowly. “Ray doesn’t need to know.”

Selin tilted his head, genuinely curious. “Why not?”

Norman stared at the dim torchlight licking the chamber walls. “…Because this was about protecting him. Not keeping him.”

---

The confrontation came exactly when Norman expected it to.

Right after dusk, in the far courtyard behind the main school building — where few students wandered and the shadows clung to the garden walls like living things. The sun had dipped below the trees. Golden light lingered only in memory.

Cyrus stepped into view first, sharp and tailored as always. His grey-blue eyes glinted like polished knives beneath his silvery lashes.

Lucia followed, her long dark coat billowing behind her like a cape, the heels of her boots striking stone like warning bells.

Norman stood at the stone railing, waiting.

"You're very clever," Cyrus said calmly. “I’ll give you that.”

Lucia tilted her head, arms folded across her chest. “We were counting days. Twenty-eight of them, to be exact.”

Norman didn’t flinch. “Then count again.”

Lucia narrowed her eyes. “Don't play coy.”

“I’m not.”

Cyrus stepped forward. “You filed a Resonant Claim. According to our understanding, it gives you another month of protection. A temporary deterrent.”

“And after that, we were prepared to step back in,” Lucia said. “Pick up where we left off.”

“You should have read the fine print,” Norman said smoothly, voice cold. “The protection granted by a verified Resonant Claim isn’t automatically time-limited.”

A pause.

“What?” Cyrus said flatly.

Norman straightened, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve. “Article 19.7.4 of the Sanguine Codex: ‘Upon legal verification of a Resonant Claim, the bonded human is immune to pursuit, coercion, or romantic provocation by other vampires for the full length of the claim, as specified by the petitioner at the time of verification. No vampire shall challenge this unless the bond is proven to have dissolved by death, rejection, or expiration.’”

Lucia blinked, slowly. “What was your duration, Norman?”

Norman smiled, a pale and dangerous thing.

“Indefinite.”

The silence that followed was heavy.

Cyrus’s posture tightened. “That’s a loophole.”

“It’s law,” Norman replied.

Lucia’s lip curled. “You would abuse such an ancient rite?”

“I didn't abuse anything,” Norman said, eyes gleaming. “I followed protocol. I proved resonance. The Council approved it.”

“You’re claiming him for eternity,” Cyrus snarled. “You think that won’t cause questions?!”

“It already has,” came a dry voice behind them.

Lucia and Cyrus turned sharply.

Elias and Selin stood side by side, watching from the garden archway like silent sentinels. Elias leaned lazily against the stone, arms folded. Selin looked faintly amused.

“Article 19.7 is legally sound,” Selin said. “And unless you're prepared to challenge the Council's judgment, I’d suggest you stop… screaming about it in public.”

Cyrus gritted his teeth. “You two just going to stand there and let him do this?”

“What exactly has he done?” Elias asked coolly. “Protected a human from manipulation and coercion? You’d have done the same if you had gotten there first.”

“He played the game smarter,” Selin added, smirking. “That’s all.”

Lucia stepped forward. “You think we’ll just forget about him?”

“No,” Norman said, stepping closer too. “I think you’ll remember he’s off limits. That you’ll remember the last time someone broke a Resonant Claim ended in blood. And Council dismemberment.”

Cyrus’s jaw clenched. “Mark my words. You may have protected him for now. But the moment that claim breaks—”

“It won’t,” Norman said, voice steel. “So don’t waste your breath.”

Lucia’s eyes darkened. “He’s perfect, Norman. That quiet strength, that mind… You really think someone like him belongs to you alone?”

Norman’s face was unreadable. “I’m not claiming ownership. I’m claiming protection. What he feels, what he chooses — that’s not your business.”

She stared at him for a moment longer, then turned sharply and walked away.

Cyrus lingered one more second. “Count your days, Norman. Eternity is a long time to hold someone who hasn’t chosen you yet.”

Then he left too.

---

Selin walked forward slowly, amused. “Nicely handled.”

Elias nodded once. “Still, you’ve stirred the nest.”

“I don’t care,” Norman murmured.

Elias tilted his head. “And what about the girl?”

Selin crossed his arms. “You haven’t made a move yet. Adrian and Selene are still circling her like wolves.”

“I’ll find a way,” Norman said.

“You going to file another Resonant Claim?” Selin asked.

“No,” Norman muttered. “Emma isn’t… It’s not the same.”

Elias hummed, not asking further.

They didn’t need to. Both enforcers were watching now. Not just observing — but invested.

What Norman would do next wasn’t just interesting. It might change everything.

---

For once, Norman let himself sleep in.

The morning sun streamed through the half-open curtains of his bedroom, warm against his usually pale skin. He woke slowly, his limbs heavy but relaxed. No messages. No calls from the Council. No confrontations waiting for him in the hallway.

For the first time in weeks, everything was quiet.

He turned over and stared at the ceiling, letting himself believe — if only for today — that he wasn’t a vampire, that the shadows hadn’t been inching closer to the people he loved, that blood and politics weren’t tangled in his heart.

His phone buzzed once.

Emma: Get ready, loser. We’re kidnapping you. You’ve been Weird and Stressful lately. Today is Norman Appreciation Day.

A second buzz.

Ray: I didn’t agree to the name but yeah. We’re outside. Come down or I’m throwing rocks at your window.

Norman let out a laugh. A small, real one.

He texted back one word: Coming.

---

They didn’t have a plan. That was the point.

Emma had stolen her mother’s beat-up car. Ray had a playlist of oddly specific indie songs he would never admit to liking. And Norman, still tired, still healing from weeks of tension, let himself stretch out in the backseat as they sped toward nowhere in particular.

“First stop?” Emma grinned. “Breakfast. Or well—brunch. Because Norman sleeps like a vampire.”

Norman snorted in the back.

“If the shoe fits,” Ray muttered from the passenger seat.

Emma glanced in the rearview mirror. “Hey, seriously. You okay?”

Norman looked up. “Yeah. Actually… yeah.”

---

The day passed like something out of a fading dream.

They got pancakes from a place with sticky tables and mismatched mugs. Emma ordered something with way too much whipped cream. Ray stole her strawberries when she wasn’t looking.

Norman just watched.

He watched Emma laugh so hard she snorted.

He watched Ray pretending not to enjoy himself.

He watched their hands brush when they reached for the syrup at the same time. The way they leaned into each other without noticing.

This was what he fought for. This warmth. This light. Them.

After brunch, they wandered around the city. Emma dragged them through secondhand bookstores and weird crystal shops. Ray found an old, dog-eared copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray and wouldn’t stop reading dramatic quotes out loud. Norman just walked with them, occasionally brushing shoulders, occasionally getting bumped into on purpose by Emma.

No one was trying to steal them away.

No one was watching.

The world was just them for once.

---

They ended the day at a park with old swings and low-hanging clouds.

Emma sat between the two of them on the grass, her head on Ray’s shoulder. Norman sat on her other side, leaning back on his hands, watching the sky shift.

“It’s gonna rain,” Ray murmured.

“Good,” Emma said. “I like the rain.”

Norman didn’t say anything.

Ray turned toward him slightly. “You really doing okay?”

Norman hesitated. Then nodded. “Better now.”

Emma looked up at him. “You don’t have to be perfect, you know.”

Norman met her eyes.

She smiled, soft and knowing. “We’d love you even if you were a mess.”

Ray didn’t say anything, but he nudged Norman with his knee.

And that was enough.

---

When the first raindrop hit Norman’s cheek, he didn’t move.

Neither did Emma. Or Ray.

They sat there in silence as the rain began to fall, gentle and cold. The world felt cleaner. Softer.

Norman tilted his head back and let it wash over him — this rare, fleeting peace.

For the first time in so long, he let himself believe that maybe — just maybe — they could have more days like this.

And maybe… he could protect that future, no matter what came next.

---

The library was dead silent.

Even at night, the old vampire archives beneath the council tower throbbed with the buzz of invisible wards and cold, humming power. Norman sat alone in the dim light of a flickering crystal orb, pages spread around him like broken wings.

Ancient scrolls, digitized codes, legal texts from centuries ago, treaties older than any living human.

None of them helped.

Ray was safe now. Forever.

The moment the Council stamped that document — Article 19.7: Resonant Soul Clause Recognition — the second his name was etched in vampire law beside Ray’s, Cyrus and Lucia’s smug little plan had collapsed. There was nothing they could do anymore. Ray was off-limits. Indefinitely.

But Emma…

Norman’s jaw clenched as he skimmed another worn parchment. Nothing. Not even a loophole. Not a whisper of a law that could help.

Because Emma was human.

Because humans were food.

Because the only way to protect her long-term was to either claim her as an Eve — and he couldn’t — or turn her into one of them. And he would never do that to her.

Emma, who smiled like sunrise and laughed like thunder. Emma, whose soul was all fire and gold and soft mercy. He couldn’t rip that from her.

Ray was different. Ray carried shadows in his blood, and Norman had never said it aloud, but some part of him always knew Ray could survive this world.

But Emma…

Emma would shatter.

And Norman couldn’t bear to be the one who broke her.

He pushed back from the table, stood up, and ran his hands through his hair. His pale reflection stared back from the crystal orb’s mirrored surface — too white, too hollow, too tired.

His voice cracked when he muttered to no one, “There has to be something. Anything.”

But there wasn’t.

There were no clauses, no emergency rites, no legal bindings strong enough to protect her from what Adrian and Selene were planning — not unless she was turned.

And the Bloodmoon was coming.

Not just a regular feeding moon, either — a High Bloodmoon. A rare convergence that amplified a vampire’s thirst, charm, and ability to manipulate the mind. It made it easier to seduce. Easier to control. Easier to feed.

He had thirty-five days left.

Then she’d be open season.

---

Later that night, Norman sat outside on the rooftop of his dorm, wrapped in a hoodie, staring at the stars.

He could hear the soft buzz of Emma’s voice downstairs. She was probably showing Ray one of her stupid cat memes or talking about a new song. The window was open. She didn’t know he could hear.

He smiled. Barely.

Ray was safe.

But Emma...

“You’re going to die, Emma,” he whispered into the night. “And I can’t save you.”

---

He met with Elias and Selin two days later.

They sat in the councilroom’s antechamber, both watching him closely — Elias with curiosity, Selin with something sharper. Norman laid out everything: the archive results, the legal blockades, his failure to find anything binding to keep Emma under permanent protection.

Elias leaned forward. “So what do you plan to do?”

Norman didn’t answer right away. “I don’t know.”

Selin raised an eyebrow. “You’re the only vampire in history to mark a human with eternal claim without making them an Eve. The Council barely agreed to that. You’ve already shaken the system. Do you want to break it?”

Norman’s smile was thin. “If I have to.”

Elias watched him carefully. “And what if you can’t? What if Adrian and Selene come for her the moment her 33 days are up?”

Norman was silent for a long time.

Then, very quietly, he said, “Then I’ll kill them.”

Neither enforcer said anything.

Because they believed him.

That night, Norman sat on his bed in the dark, hands shaking.

He had no plan.

Just Emma’s smile in his memory, and a promise growing claws in his chest.

Thirty-three days left.

And no way out.

---

The knock came late at night.

Norman didn’t move at first, his hand frozen halfway to his mug of tea. He wasn’t expecting anyone. Emma and Ray had left hours ago, and he’d told Elias and Selin not to bother him for the rest of the night.

The knock came again. Slower. More deliberate.

Norman stood, every step echoing louder than it should’ve. He opened the door.

Barbara stood on the other side.

She looked like frost and iron, wrapped in a black cloak, her hair pinned into a severe braid, and her gaze colder than any winter storm.

“Norman,” she said smoothly, stepping into his apartment without waiting for permission.

His jaw tightened. “What do you want?”

“Your father wants to see you.”

Silence. A long, stretched silence that seemed to snap something inside him.

Norman closed the door slowly and leaned against it.

“He is not my father.”

Barbara raised a brow. “He raised you.”

“He used me,” Norman snapped, voice low but venomous. “He bred me for power. Treated me like an experiment. Don’t mistake that for parenthood.”

Barbara’s expression didn’t change. “You’re still of the Velkers bloodline. That gives him certain rights.”

“No,” Norman said sharply, stepping forward. “Don’t say that name here.”

For the first time, her eye twitched. He wasn’t afraid of her — not anymore. She’d trained him once. Taught him how to control his thirst, how to fight like a ghost, how to manipulate law like a sword. But she’d also stood by while Ratri — the High Lord Velkers, the oldest vampire alive — experimented on him like a lab rat. Fed him poisons, made him watch executions, tested the limits of his bloodline with cruelty disguised as duty.

And Norman had endured. Survived. Outperformed. He was stronger than any vampire his age — faster, smarter, more politically aware — because he’d been raised in a warzone of a palace, with a monster for a father.

“I told you,” Norman whispered, eyes gleaming in the moonlight, “I renounced that name when I left.”

“You can’t run from your blood,” Barbara replied.

“I’m not running. I’m burning the bridge.”

Behind her, two more presences entered the room — Elias and Selin. They’d felt the shift in the wards. They hadn’t expected company either.

Elias’s eyes widened. “Wait. Ratri? As in the Ratri?”

Selin blinked. “You’re his… son?”

Barbara answered smoothly, “Yes. Firstborn. Bred through the Velkers lineage with blood purity untouched for thirteen generations.”

Norman’s jaw clenched. “Don’t say that like it’s something to be proud of.”

Elias stepped back, visibly shaken. “That makes you—Norman, do you know how powerful that makes you?”

“I do,” Norman said flatly. “I know exactly what I am.”

Selin frowned. “Then why haven’t you used that power? You could’ve silenced Adrian and Selene, cast a binding on Cyrus and Lucia without even blinking. Hell, you could sit on the Council itself if you wanted to.”

Barbara nodded, folding her hands behind her back. “The High Lord wants to know the same thing. Why are you wasting your strength on two humans when you should be commanding armies? You are a Velkers. You are—”

“I AM NOT A VELKERS!”

The shout cracked through the air like a whip. The crystal lamp shattered behind them, light flickering out, drowning the room in shadow.

Norman’s fangs were out, eyes glowing a searing blue-white that pulsed with suppressed power.

“I will never bear that name again,” he said, voice trembling with rage. “I am not my father. I am not a goddamn weapon. I’m not some cold-blooded monster who sees people as tools. Emma and Ray — they’re my family. Not pawns. Not bloodbags. They’re mine. And I’ll protect them with or without your twisted power games.”

Silence again. Elias and Selin stared at him, stunned by the force of his voice — by the magic radiating off him like a storm barely held in check.

Barbara finally spoke, calm and unmoved. “Your father will not take no for an answer.”

“Then let him come,” Norman whispered. “I’ll kill him myself.”

---

After Barbara left, Elias and Selin stayed behind, quiet for a long time.

“You’re really his son,” Selin murmured.

Norman slumped into his chair, hand shaking slightly. “Yeah.”

Elias crossed his arms. “And you’ve been hiding that why?”

“Because I’d rather be known as nothing… than his.”

---

The world was quieter in the morning.

Not peaceful — no, peace was something Norman hadn’t known since childhood — but quieter. The kind of silence that followed a war cry. Tense. Still.

Norman walked to school with his shoulders rigid, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. The bite of the wind didn’t bother him — it never did. But everything else did. The weight of that name in his ears, Velkers, coiling around him like the old chains he’d sworn to break. Ratri’s name still tasted like acid on his tongue. Barbara’s visit had left a cold film over his skin that no amount of sunlight could melt.

He hated it.

He hated the way she’d looked at him — like he was disappointing, like he was meant for something greater, like loving two humans was beneath him.

And most of all, he hated the fact that some part of him still remembered how safe the power felt. That raw magic, that legacy of dominance and blood and history—it had always been there, just under his skin. And last night, when he’d shouted, when the lamp had shattered and the walls had trembled… it had responded so eagerly.

He didn’t want it.

He wanted Emma’s laugh echoing down the hallway.
He wanted Ray’s dry wit and the way he’d pretend not to care while still sharing his earbuds with him on long walks.
He wanted their lives, their warmth, their mortality.

“Yo.”

He looked up to find Ray standing in front of the school gates, coffee in hand, bag slung over one shoulder. Hair messy. Shirt half tucked in. Typical.

Ray blinked at him. “You look like you got run over.”

Norman managed a small smile. “Just a rough night.”

Ray held out the second coffee silently. “Thought you might need this.”

And suddenly, the tension cracked just a little.

Norman took the cup, fingers brushing Ray’s for a second longer than necessary. Warm.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Ray said, walking in step with him. “Emma's hyper. Like, more than usual.”

“She have sugar?”

“She had four donuts. I counted.”

As if on cue, Emma sprinted into view. “NORMAN!”

Before he could react, she crashed into his side, nearly knocking the cup from his hand. She looked up at him with wide eyes and a grin that could outshine the sun.

“Ray said you were in a mood,” she said. “So I got you something!”

From her bag, she pulled out—

“...a bag of marshmallows?”

She nodded. “You said once you liked the squishy kind. I remembered!”

Norman stared at her.

And then, for the first time that day, he laughed.

Not a polite chuckle. Not one of his calm, collected smiles.

A real laugh, low and sudden and so full of emotion it startled even Ray.

Emma beamed. “See! I knew that’d work.”

Norman rubbed his face. “You two are going to be the death of me.”

Ray shrugged. “Better us than some serial killer with daddy issues.”

Norman snorted into his coffee.

For the rest of the morning, it was easier to breathe. Emma chattered through class, drawing stars on Norman’s notebook while the teacher lectured. Ray passed sarcastic notes. The three of them ate lunch on the rooftop in a patch of sunlight, Emma lying between them like a sunbathing cat while Norman dozed and Ray read a mystery novel aloud in a dramatic voice.

It was… nice.

For a moment, Norman let himself forget the weight of his bloodline, the Council, Ratri, the looming storm.

For a moment, he was just a teenage boy with his two best friends.

And that — more than power, more than legacy, more than ancient names — that was what he would fight for.

Even if the whole world tried to take it away.

---

Day 31

The claim radiated faintly beneath Emma’s skin — invisible to human eyes but blindingly clear to Norman. It shimmered with enchantment, the Council’s protection in full force. No vampire could touch her, feed from her, or lure her through compulsion. It was a ward, a firewall, a fortress.

But it was temporary.

Just thirty-one days.

Norman stared at the number carved in the document he’d hidden beneath a stack of textbooks in his room. Thirty-one. It might as well have been a death sentence.

He’d tried everything. Loopholes, arcane petitions, historical exceptions. The laws weren’t built to protect humans forever. Vampires were predators. Feeding was sacred. Protection clauses were rare, limited, short-lived — and never renewable without noble-blood intervention.

Unless you turn her into one of us, the laws whispered. Mark her. Change her. Bind her.

But Norman refused. That was not her fate.

Day 28

The nightmares began.

He dreamed of Emma, her eyes wide and empty, skin pale with blood loss, crimson dripping down her collarbones. Adrian laughing in the shadows. Selene licking her lips. The protection mark melting off her arm like wax.

He woke up gasping every morning.

Elias noticed first.

“You’re restless,” he said one morning as they passed each other in the hallway at school. Norman pretended not to hear him.

“Still haven’t found a path forward?” Selin asked a few hours later. She stood beside the vending machine, watching him like a hawk.

“No,” Norman answered curtly, taking the juice box and walking away.

But they both knew he hadn’t given up.

They could feel the magic thrumming under his skin. He was searching, digging, burning through every possible route. And the silence from the higher houses? Deafening.

Day 23

Emma was still oblivious. That made it harder.

She still clung to his arm in the hallways, dragging him and Ray to lunch. She still laughed too loudly at his dry jokes, still played with his hair when he dozed off in the common room.

“I love how pale you are,” she told him, brushing his bangs from his forehead. “You look like a snow prince.”

Norman forced a smile, pulse pounding in his ears.

If only she knew the monsters her snow prince was trying to fight.

Day 18

Lucia and Cyrus had stopped their games. Ray was off-limits now. Forever. Norman had seen to that. And while they hadn’t forgiven him, they’d backed off. For now.

Adrian and Selene were different.

They waited. Smiling. Patient.

Selene brushed past Emma in the hallway one day and whispered, “You smell divine.”

Norman had nearly snapped her neck right there.

But the protection held. For now.

Day 15

“I still can’t believe you haven’t found anything,” Elias muttered as they watched Emma run ahead to grab ice cream after school.

Norman didn’t reply.

“You could use your bloodline,” Selin added quietly. “You’re Velkers. Ratri’s son. You could demand—”

“I won’t.”

Selin paused. “Even if it means losing her?”

“I’m not losing her.”

His voice cracked something in the air between them.

They didn’t speak of it again.

Day 10

There was something cruel about watching the days drop one by one, knowing nothing would stop it. Norman spent most of his nights alone now, surrounded by scrolls and court records, trying to unearth forgotten decrees. If he’d had the time, he might have gone to France. Or Romania. Or the old ruins buried under Cairo where the first blood contracts had been signed.

But he didn’t.

The countdown pressed like a vice against his ribs.

Day 6

Elias left a book on Norman’s desk during lunch. No words. Just a slim black tome titled "Archaic Vampire Pacts: Nullification and Submission Clauses."

Norman looked at him.

Elias didn’t meet his gaze.

Day 4

Emma gave him a handmade bracelet.

“It’s silly,” she said, cheeks flushed, “but I figured since we’re always together…”

Ray had one too. A matching one. Braided with red, white, and black thread.

Norman wore his like armor.

She had no idea she was counting down to slaughter. And he couldn’t tell her. Couldn’t explain what Adrian was, what Selene wanted, what the glow of her skin really meant.

Day 3

He found an obscure petition from 1837 that almost worked.

It had protected a child vampire’s human guardian from being turned — indefinitely — under a clause about family bonding and dependence.

Norman filed a magical appeal based on it.

It was denied.

Day 2

The mark dimmed slightly. A sign of approaching expiration.

Elias and Selin stood behind him as he leaned against the school’s rooftop railing, staring at the horizon.

“You really love her,” Selin said softly.

“Yes.”

“Even if it costs you everything?”

“It already has,” Norman replied.

The wind blew through his hair.

Thirty-six hours left.

And Norman was running out of time.

---

Norman didn’t speak as he moved through the hallway at school, fingers twitching in his coat pocket where he kept the parchment — the one that had the Council’s sigil slowly burning out, second by second. The number carved into its surface: 2 hours.

And then nothing.

No ward. No enchantment. No binding law. Nothing to keep Emma safe.

He had failed.

There was no loophole. No ancient rite. No borrowed favor that could stretch the time further.

So he did the only thing he could do.

He opened his phone and texted:

Norman: surprise sleepover. your place. now.

Emma: ??? wait what

Emma: is this like a code for something

Norman: no. this is me being serious. right now.

Emma: omg okay! bring snacks!!!

---

7:43 PM – Emma’s House

Emma’s house was still warm from the spring sun, lights low, the living room lit by the soft hum of fairy lights strung along the windows. She was barefoot, hair tied back in a messy bun, and her arms full of blankets.

“Okay,” she chirped, tossing two pillows on the floor. “This is random but also kinda fun. You okay?”

Norman looked at her.

She didn’t see it — the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes tracked every shadow, every flickering bulb in the ceiling. He nodded once.

“Where’s Ray?” he asked.

“I spammed him like twenty times,” Emma grinned. “He said he’s coming.”

And sure enough, ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

Ray stepped inside, hoodie slouched over his head, earbuds still in. “You didn’t say this was a panic sleepover,” he muttered, eyeing Norman’s expression.

Emma snorted and threw a blanket at him. “You showed up. That’s what matters.”

They settled in like old times — Emma wedged between them, wrapped in three layers of fleece, Ray curled sideways against the couch, and Norman leaning forward on the floor, spine rigid like a drawn bow.

The clock on the wall read:

8:57 PM.

Three minutes.

Norman’s eyes didn’t leave the second hand.

His breath slowed. His pupils dilated. The air in the room grew heavy with static. The edge of his mark tingled like someone was dragging a blade just beneath his skin.

Ray yawned. “Did you guys eat? I haven’t had dinner.”

Emma made a noise. “Oh crap. We forgot food. There’s, like… cereal? And some weird canned soup? No chips. No juice.”

“Norman,” she whined, nudging him with her foot. “Can you go grab something? You’re fast, right?”

Norman turned toward her, the clock now showing 8:59 PM.

“I’ll be fast,” he said quietly. “Lock the doors. Don’t answer anything. Not a sound. Not even the neighbors.”

Emma blinked. “What?”

“Promise me,” Norman said sharply.

She laughed, then nodded. “Okay, okay, I promise. Geez. Overreacting much?”

Ray didn’t say anything. He was watching Norman with narrowed eyes.

Norman slipped out the door with one last glance at the clock.

9:00 PM.

The protection ended.

---

9:01 PM – Living Room

“Norman’s been weird lately,” Emma said, stretching her arms as she grabbed the remote.

Ray flopped beside her. “He’s always been weird.”

They laughed, pressing buttons until the TV blinked to life.

The news was on.

A pale woman in a blazer stood on a rooftop, red-tinted moonlight behind her. The banner read: HIGH BLOODMOON ALERT – LEVEL RED.

Emma blinked. “Wait, what—”

“…again, this is not a simulation,” the reporter was saying, voice tight. “Due to Bloodmoon frequency and gravitational surge, disguised vampires in human society are unable to suppress their instincts.”

Ray straightened. Emma leaned forward.

“We are now advising all citizens to remain indoors. Do not engage. Do not trust anyone not already inside your home. Reinforce your doors, and do not attempt to travel—”

The reporter paused.

Her breath hitched.

Then, from the side of the screen, a blur of motion — a pale figure lunging from the shadows. The reporter screamed as teeth sank into her neck. The mic cracked. The screen jolted and shook violently before going black.

Then silence.

A hum.

A single message in bold white letters:

STAY INSIDE. THIS IS NOT A JOKE.

Emma dropped the remote.

“…Ray?” she whispered.

Ray had already moved in front of her, one hand on her shoulder, the other reaching for his phone.

“Where’s Norman?” he muttered.

They were completely alone.

And the Bloodmoon had risen.

---

The front door slammed behind them, wind whipping wildly as they sprinted down the empty street.

Ray didn’t question. Emma didn’t pause.

They had to go.

Norman was out there.

And something was terribly wrong.

The city felt wrong — silent but not still, like the calm before a storm, as though it held its breath waiting to lunge. The streetlamps buzzed faintly, casting long shadows over every building. From the rooftops, crows shrieked and scattered like something ancient was stirring beneath the pavement.

The Bloodmoon had fully risen.

And the scent of death was thick in the air.

---

Three blocks ahead — Norman stood alone in the middle of the street.

The wind curled around him like a living thing, dragging his coat like wings around his ankles. The cracked asphalt beneath his boots seemed to pulse faintly with energy.

Across from him stood two vampires. Adrian’s smirk was razor-sharp. Selene twirled a strand of pale hair between her fingers, eyes glinting in the red moonlight.

“Well well,” Adrian said mockingly. “Norman. All alone. With the protection expired and your little pets unsupervised.”

Selene took a slow step forward, her tone lilting. “Didn’t think we’d let this night pass without a visit, did you?”

Norman said nothing. His hands were clenched so tightly at his sides his knuckles were white.

“We thought you’d be busy,” Adrian sneered. “Maybe hiding under some human girl’s bed. But here you are… playing bodyguard like a lovesick mutt.”

Norman’s jaw twitched.

“Or maybe,” Selene murmured, “you’re just like the rest of us after all. The blood sings, doesn’t it? The craving. The high.” She laughed, low and dangerous. “It’s intoxicating, isn’t it? And you think you’re better.”

He still didn’t speak.

“You don’t scare us,” Adrian continued. “You think having a claim on a human makes you something? A name? You’re nothing. You’re a weakling pretending to be civilized.”
Selene stepped closer, voice low. “They trusted you. Those soft, breakable little things. And when they find out you’re just another monster…”

Selene stepped closer, voice low. “They trusted you. Those soft, breakable little things. And when they find out you’re just another monster…”

Adrian clicked his tongue. “The way Ray looks at you? Like you’re some kind of god? Emma, so bright, so foolish—what will she think when she sees the blood on your hands?”

Norman’s jaw tensed.

The ache in his gums pulsed—his fangs threatening to emerge.

Adrian’s smile widened. “Come on then. Show us. Sink your teeth in. Prove to yourself what you are.”

Norman’s head tilted, just slightly.

And then…

His fangs slid into view.

Long, sharp, pristine white

Crimson bled into his irises — slowly, deliberately, like ink dropped into clear water.

Selene stilled. Adrian’s smirked.

Norman took one step forward.

“I’ve tried to be civil,” he said at last, voice dark as smoke. “I’ve tried to follow the law. I’ve tried to protect them without hurting anyone.”

He took another step. Crimson flooded both eyes.

“But the truth is…” he whispered, “you don’t understand fear. Not yet.”

“Oh?” Selene smirked, recovering. “So what? You’re finally showing your fangs. Good. About time you stopped pretending to be human.”

Adrian grinned again. “Now your little humans will get to see what a monster you are.”

They laughed — cruel, taunting.

“Let them see you now,” Selene mocked. “Let them see your fangs, your hunger. Let them run from you like everyone else will.”

“You’re no protector,” Adrian spat. “You’re just another beast. And when they see what you really are, they’ll leave you too. Just like your family did.”

Norman froze.

Behind him, the faintest shuffle of feet on pavement. But he didn’t turn. Didn’t need to.

They were here.

They had seen.

Emma… and Ray.

His humans.

And Adrian had just made the fatal mistake of noticing them.

“Well, well,” Selene said slowly, eyes shifting past Norman’s shoulder. “Look who came running.”

Adrian grinned, fangs flashing. “Guess we won’t have to hunt them down after all.”

They began to move. Too fast. Fangs bared.

But then—

Norman’s eyes snapped open, and something ancient stirred in the depths of his soul.

A burst of energy surged around him. The air itself recoiled.

And then—his crimson eyes began to change.

Not fade.

Merge.

The red began to glow with a faint shimmer of blue, swirling like galaxies crashing into one another. They swirled until, slowly, impossibly—

They turned a brilliant violet.

Not just colored. Illuminated. Marked.

A color known only to one bloodline.

Selene stopped cold.

Adrian’s eyes widened.

He stepped forward, the power radiating off him in suffocating waves.

“Son of Ratri,” he said slowly, letting the words sink in, “and not by choice.”
“…No,” he breathed. “No, that’s not—”

“I am,” Norman said softly, voice like frost. “Norman Velkers-Ratri.”

“Impossible,” Selene whispered.

"Norman’s eyes flicked toward him, dead cold. “Is it?”

Selene took a shaky breath. “Y-You’re one of them? That line was supposed to be—”

“Extinct?” Norman finished. “Buried? Forgotten? Believe me. I wish it were.”

The ground cracked beneath his feet.

Son of the Highblood.

Heir to the First Fangs. Descendant of the Eldest Night.

The monster that monsters feared.

“I didn’t want to use this name,” Norman said, stepping forward as the wind howled around him, violet eyes gleaming like fire through fog. “Because I didn’t need it.”

His voice dropped to a whisper, deadly quiet.

“But if you touch them—”

He raised a hand.

“I will use every ounce of it to erase you.”

The street went silent.

The crows circled overhead.

Selene took a step back. Adrian's hand trembled at his side.

Behind Norman, Emma stared wide-eyed. Ray’s breath hitched.

They had seen everything.

They had heard everything.

And now they knew —

Norman was not human.

He was the heir to the most feared vampire legacy in existence.

---

The street was still trembling. The glow of Norman’s violet eyes hadn’t faded. Not yet. The silent hum of his power lingered in the cracks of the road, in the electricity that shimmered through the air, in the shallow breaths of the two vampires who had dared to challenge him.

Adrian’s cocky grin was long gone.

Selene’s fingers trembled at her side.

She grabbed Adrian’s arm with quiet urgency, her voice low but sharp.

“We need to retreat. Now.”

Adrian didn’t argue.

They took a careful step back.

But before they could vanish into the shadows, Norman’s voice rang out — quiet, cold, deadly.

“Make sure they all know,” he said, his tone like a blade drawn from silk. “Anyone who touches them — even looks at them with intent — will face an end worse than death.”

His eyes flared again, the purple blazing like fire in the dark.

“Let the whole bloodline hear it.”

Selene’s throat bobbed. “Understood.”

Then they were gone — vanishing into smoke, slipping into alley shadows without a trace.

And suddenly, the street was silent again.

Norman turned his back to where they’d stood. The violet in his eyes dimmed until only faint flickers of crimson remained, and then, at last, his eyes returned to that familiar, cold blue.

But he didn’t turn around.

He could feel them — the warmth behind him, the soft rustling of clothing, the cautious yet desperate heartbeat that always gave Emma away. The calm, steady one that belonged to Ray.

They were there.

They had seen everything.

He didn’t want to turn around and see disgust.

He didn’t want to look them in the eye and see fear.

So instead… he took a step forward.

Then another.

“Norman—” Emma called out, voice cracking.

He stopped. His voice came low, tight, unsteady. “Don’t.”

Emma grabbed his sleeve. Ray reached the other side, gripping his arm.

He yanked free. Not roughly. But enough to make them pause.

Norman’s head dropped slightly.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, barely above a whisper. “That I’m disgusting. That I lied to you. That I’ve been pretending all this time, hiding something monstrous. That I'm terrifyingly scary—”

“Scary?” Ray interrupted, voice sharp and full of disbelief. “Norman, my god, you’re divine.”

Norman blinked.

Ray took a step forward, hand curling into a fist at his side. “You think I give a damn about your fangs or your creepy ancient eyes? I’ve known you since I was a kid. I’ve seen every version of you — the quiet one, the angry one, the soft one who stays up to help us study, the one who always walks Emma home.”

Ray’s voice lowered, steady but filled with fire.

“You think any of that changed because you flashed some vampire lineage? Please. You could have horns and wings and breathe fire, and I’d still trust you more than anyone else.”

Emma stepped in too, her eyes wet but fierce.

“We’re not scared of you,” she said, voice thick with emotion. “Not your eyes. Not your scary evil Lord Vampire Dad. Not your name.”

Her lower lip trembled, but she didn’t look away.

“We were scared when you tried to walk away from us.”

Norman swallowed hard.

Emma kept going. “You looked at us like you didn’t deserve us. Like you expected us to leave.”

“I do,” he whispered.

“Well, we’re not,” Ray said flatly. “So deal with it.”

Norman finally turned around.

And the moment he did, Emma flung her arms around his waist. Ray didn’t hesitate to grab his shoulder, leaning into his side.

He stood there frozen, stunned. For someone who carried the blood of kings and killers, who wielded power with his voice alone — he looked so lost in that moment.

“You’re not alone,” Emma whispered. “No matter what you are.”

Ray’s voice was quiet, but firm. “And you don’t get to decide what scares us. We decide that. And we decided a long time ago that we aren’t leaving you.”

Silence.

Norman finally, slowly, let his arms come up — one wrapping around Emma, the other gripping Ray’s sleeve.

And just like that, the cold night air didn’t feel so suffocating anymore.

“…Let’s go home,” Emma said, her face buried in his chest. “We can talk more. You can explain everything. Or not. We just… we want to be with you. That’s all that matters.”

Norman hesitated.

Then he nodded, barely, the smallest motion.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Let’s go home.”

---

The living room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a lamp casting golden shadows across Emma’s floral curtains. The three of them sat on the floor—Norman on one end of the couch, back straight like he was preparing for war. Emma had curled up against the armrest beside him, eyes soft but unreadable. Ray sat cross-legged on the floor, right in front of Norman, his brows drawn low.

The air felt thick.

Like it was waiting.

Ray was the one who finally cut the silence.

“…So,” he began, eyes narrowing. “Velkers. Ratri. That’s what they called you out there. What does that actually mean, Norman?”

Norman’s hands were laced together. He was quiet for a moment.

Then, finally, he spoke. “The Velkers lineage is the oldest vampire bloodline in existence. Older than the Council. Older than the covens. It’s the purest, strongest bloodline in vampire history—and it’s also the one most feared.”

Ray didn’t interrupt, but his eyes flicked to Emma. She was watching Norman like he might vanish if she looked away.

“My father… Ratri… he’s the head of the Velkers bloodline,” Norman continued. “That makes me a direct descendant. I was born into power, into tradition, into expectation.”

He gave a bitter laugh.

“But I never wanted any of it.”

Emma reached for his hand slowly, carefully, and Norman let her hold it.

Ray’s voice was lower now. “So Adrian and Selene… they’re vampires too?”

Norman nodded. “Yes. And so are Cyrus and Lucia.”

Ray frowned. “So then… they all wanted to eat us?”

Norman’s eyes turned to Ray, sharp and cold. “No. It’s worse than that.”

Ray blinked. “…Worse?”

Norman’s voice dropped, barely more than a whisper.

“Adrian and Selene wanted to eat Emma. To devour her.”

Emma’s breath caught in her throat. Her grip on Norman’s hand tightened.

“They came to the school pretending to be students, waiting for her protection to run out. The moment it did, they were going to make their move. That’s why I called the sleepover tonight. Because I knew they were waiting.”

“And me?” Ray asked, voice tense now. “What about Cyrus and Lucia?”

Norman’s gaze darkened.

“They wanted to make you their Eve.”

The word sent a chill down Ray’s spine.

Emma whispered, “What… what does that mean?”

Norman drew a long breath. “An Eve is more than just a mate. In vampire culture, it’s someone chosen by a vampire or a vampire pair to become the eternal source of their power. Their obsession. Their companion, prey, and love. All in one.”

Ray’s face twisted. “So they wanted to—”

“They wanted to make you theirs,” Norman said, his voice quiet but deadly. “Bind you to them. Drain you slowly. Emotionally and physically. Keep you alive and addicted to their bite. It’s a twisted ritual.”

Emma looked horrified. Ray’s hands clenched into fists.

“I couldn’t let that happen,” Norman added. “So I did something drastic.”

Ray blinked. “You… bit me.”

The room went still.

Emma’s eyes widened. “You what?”

Norman looked at Ray now, unflinching. “At the last sleepover. You don’t remember it clearly—it’s not supposed to be remembered. I bit you to mark you. It invoked a thirty-day protection clause under vampire law. During that time, no other vampire could touch you without facing execution.”

Ray’s lips parted in stunned silence.

“And after those thirty days,” Norman continued, “I filed a Resonant Soul Clause. It’s rare. Nearly impossible to get approved. But if granted… it extends that protection indefinitely. For as long as I want.”

Emma whispered, “And it worked?”

Norman nodded. “Yes. Ray’s safe now. For eternity if I choose.”

Ray looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “So I’m safe… because you claimed me?”

“Yes.”

Emma's voice cracked. “And me?”

Norman turned to her, eyes softer now. “When Adrian and Selene got too close, I invoked a protection claim. It lasts forty-five days. Today was the last day. There’s no legal clause that can extend it. Not like Ray’s.”

Emma swallowed hard. “So I’m… not protected anymore?”

“No.” Norman squeezed her hand. “But after tonight—after what they saw—Adrian and Selene will spread the word. Every vampire in this city knows now. Knows what I am. Knows that you belong to me.

Emma’s eyes welled with tears.

“You’re not food. You’re Emma. And no one will dare lay a hand on you.”

Ray finally spoke again. “You did all that… without telling us.”

Norman looked tired. “Would you have believed me? Would you have stayed?”

“Yes,” Ray said, instantly.

Emma echoed him without hesitation. “Always.”

The weight of those words hit Norman like a wave.

Ray stood slowly, moving beside Norman on the couch. “And you bit me, huh?”

Norman’s expression shifted. “You were in danger.”

Ray shrugged. “You could’ve just told me.”

Norman gave him a look. “You would’ve let me bite you if I asked?”

Ray smirked faintly. “Well… maybe if you asked nicely.”

Emma groaned. “Not the time, Ray.”

Ray only laughed and leaned his head on Norman’s shoulder. “I’m glad you did it. I really am.”

Emma climbed into Norman’s other side and snuggled into his arm. “Me too. Just… no more secrets, okay?”

Norman looked down at them.

His love. His light.

He wrapped his arms around them both and finally—finally—let out a breath.

“No more secrets,” he whispered. “I promise.”

---

It was late.

The air was still, like the world had finally exhaled. The three of them lay tangled on the couch now, wrapped in the softness of silence and each other. Norman was in the middle, as always. Emma was curled up against his chest, her fingers tracing lazy shapes against the fabric of his shirt. Ray was lounging with his head on Norman’s lap, legs stretched out across the armrest, his eyes half-lidded but awake.

The tension from earlier had melted away, replaced with something gentler. Safer.

Real.

Norman’s arms were draped around both of them protectively, like if he let go, they might vanish.

They didn’t.

Emma’s voice broke the silence, soft and hesitant, but certain.

“…So, if we’re not keeping secrets anymore,” she said, “then I want to tell you both something.”

Norman tilted his head, looking down at her. Ray didn’t move, but his eyes flicked toward her curiously.

Emma sat up slightly, pushing herself onto her knees, her hands resting on Norman’s chest. Her heart was racing, but she smiled anyway. “I’ve been holding it in for a while, but after everything… I don’t want to anymore.”

She looked at Norman first, then Ray. Her eyes shimmered with honesty.

“I love you,” she said, voice trembling only slightly. “Both of you. Not just as friends. Not just because we’ve been through hell together. I love you. As in love love. And if that’s weird or too much or—”

“It’s not,” Norman interrupted, his voice soft but immediate.

Emma blinked. “What?”

Norman reached up and cupped her face gently, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “It’s not weird. It’s not too much. I love you too, Emma. God, I love you. I’ve loved you since we were kids.”

Her eyes flooded with tears again—this time, happy ones—and she leaned into his touch, laughing a little breathlessly. “That’s so unfair. You always beat me to saying it back.”

“I’m fast like that,” Norman teased, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Ray cleared his throat dramatically. “Okay, alright. Gross.”

Emma turned to him, grinning. “What about you?”

Ray raised a brow. “What about me?”

“You’re awfully quiet,” Norman said, eyes narrowing playfully.

“I’m always quiet.”

“Ray.”

Ray groaned and covered his face with one arm. “Oh my God.”

“Ray,” Norman repeated, nudging his shoulder with his knee.

Ray peeked out from under his sleeve with a scowl. “What?!”

Norman just smiled at him—gentle, expectant, warm. “Don’t make me say your name again.”

Ray sat up suddenly, his face flushed a deep red. “Okay! Fine! I love you both too, okay?! Don’t make me say it again.”

Emma clapped her hands, grinning so wide her cheeks hurt. “You do?!”

Ray huffed, arms crossed tightly, trying to hide how pink his ears had gotten. “Obviously. I’ve been stuck with you two idiots forever. Might as well be love.”

“Might as well,” Norman repeated, smirking. “How romantic.”

“Shut up.”

Emma lunged at Ray, wrapping her arms around him so tightly he almost toppled back onto the couch. “You big idiot! I knew it!”

“You’re suffocating me—”

“You love meee,” she sing-songed, squeezing harder.

Ray sighed dramatically, though he didn’t push her off. “Yeah. I do. You both drive me insane.”

Norman leaned down and brushed his fingers through Ray’s hair. “We love you too, Ray. You don’t have to pretend it’s a bad thing.”

Ray looked up at him, lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “You’re just annoying enough that I’ll allow it.”

Emma snorted. “This is the weirdest love confession ever.”

Norman chuckled. “Fitting, though.”

The three of them collapsed back onto the couch again, a tangled mess of limbs and warmth and shared heartbeats.

Emma tucked herself against Norman’s side, one hand reaching back to hold Ray’s. Ray let her, not saying anything, but giving her fingers a soft squeeze.

Outside, the world was dark and dangerous. But here, in the tiny glow of Emma’s living room, there was peace. No fangs, no threats, no secrets.

Just them.

Together.

Home.

---

It had been three days since everything changed.

Since the countdown ended.

Since Norman revealed what he really was.

Since Ray admitted he loved them back.

Since the three of them became something more — something real, something warm, something terrifyingly beautiful.

And now they were just trying to be… normal.

As normal as a human-human-vampire trio could get.

Emma had insisted on hosting them again. Her place had become their usual meet-up spot, complete with snacks, bad TV, and the occasional spontaneous group nap. It was warm and messy and full of laughter — everything Norman never thought he could have.

They were lounging in the living room, Emma leaning on Norman’s shoulder while Ray scrolled lazily through his phone, when the doorbell rang.

Emma frowned. “I’m not expecting anyone.”

Norman immediately tensed. “I’ll get it.”

Emma and Ray exchanged a look but didn’t stop him. Norman opened the door just a crack.

Then immediately groaned.

“Wow,” said a smug voice. “You’re so warm and welcoming, Velker Jr.”

“Don’t call me that,” Norman sighed, pulling the door open fully.

Standing there were two extremely attractive people. One was a tall, broad-shouldered man with short, silvery blond hair and piercing green eyes — Elias. The other was a woman with sharp cheekbones, a cocky smirk, and glowing silver-blue eyes — Selin.

Both looked like they had walked off the cover of some vampire fashion magazine.

Emma peeked over Norman’s shoulder. “Who are they?”

Elias grinned. “Oh, we’ve been dying to meet you.”

Selin waved. “Mind if we come in? We brought stories.”

Ray blinked. “Stories?”

Norman sighed and stepped aside. “Please don’t.”

“Oh no,” Elias said cheerfully, walking in. “We absolutely will.”

Emma and Ray scooted apart to make room on the couch as the two vampires made themselves at home like they owned the place. Selin flopped down next to Emma, Elias next to Ray.

“So,” Selin said, stretching her arms behind her head. “Where should we begin? Maybe the time Norman argued with the council for three hours straight and threatened to throw a table?”

Ray blinked. “You what?”

“I didn’t actually throw it,” Norman muttered.

Emma gaped at him. “You never told us that!”

“Of course not,” Selin said. “He was too busy pretending he’s emotionally stable.”

Ray raised an eyebrow. “So who are you two?”

Elias smiled. “We were assigned by the High Council as enforcers. To keep an eye on your very dramatic boyfriend here. Make sure he didn’t do anything… unapproved.”

“You mean like declaring protection on two humans?” Emma asked.

Selin grinned. “Bingo.”

“And stirring up half the vampire nobility?” Elias added.

“Or invoking ancient clauses no one has used in centuries?”

Norman groaned and rubbed his face. “Please stop.”

Emma leaned forward, eyes wide. “Wait. Wait. So you two were following him around this whole time?”

“Yup,” Selin said.

“We were the ones who told him the clauses might work,” Elias added. “He ran with it like a madman.”

Emma looked at Norman. “You never said you had bodyguards!”

“Spies,” Ray corrected, clearly amused. “This is so dramatic.”

Norman gave them both a helpless look. “I was trying to protect you. I didn’t want to drag you into all of that.”

Selin tilted her head. “He fought tooth and nail to keep you both safe. Even when the council told him it wasn’t possible. Even when they said he was breaking rules. He still did it.”

Emma stared at him.

Ray blinked slowly.

“…Norman,” Emma whispered. “You dummy.”

She lunged into his arms, hugging him tightly.

Ray smirked, scooting closer. “So all those nights you looked like you hadn’t slept?”

“Yeah,” Elias said. “He was pacing, researching, arguing with old vampires, biting his knuckles out of stress—”

“I did not—!”

Selin cackled. “Oh you so did. You were a wreck.”

Emma kissed Norman’s cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Ray leaned against Norman’s shoulder, suddenly quieter. “You went through all that… for us.”

Norman swallowed. “Of course I did.”

For a second, none of them said anything.

Then Elias stood, stretching. “Anyway, we just wanted to drop in and say hello. And embarrass your boyfriend.”

Selin winked at Emma. “You’ve got a good one. He’s probably one of the most powerful young vampires alive and still acts like he’s just a lovesick nerd.”

“I am a lovesick nerd,” Norman muttered.

“And now you’re our lovesick nerd,” Emma said, kissing his temple.

Ray nodded solemnly. “Poor you.”

Elias and Selin headed for the door, grinning. “We’ll be in touch,” Elias said. “Council wants a debrief soon. But don’t worry—Emma and Ray are off-limits now.”

“Thanks to you,” Selin added. “Velker blood or not, you earned it.”

As the door closed behind them, Norman leaned back and groaned. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

Emma and Ray immediately leaned in on both sides, squishing him in a cuddle sandwich.

“You’re amazing,” Emma whispered.

“You’re embarrassing,” Ray added, but kissed his jaw anyway.

Norman smiled, finally letting himself breathe.

He had them. And now, the world knew it too.

---

It had been almost a month since everything changed — since the three of them stopped running from the truth and finally started moving forward together.

The apartment was quiet, wrapped in the comfortable hush of early evening. Emma had fallen asleep on the couch, curled under a blanket, her cheek squished against Norman’s shoulder. Norman sat still so he wouldn’t wake her, one hand absentmindedly stroking her hair.

Ray sat cross-legged on the floor, a book balanced on his knees.

“…So if you get hurt, do you heal faster than humans?”

Norman blinked, glancing down. “Ray, is that your eighth vampire question today?”

Ray shrugged, not looking up from his book. “Maybe.”

“You’ve been reading Vampire Lore: Ancient and New for three hours.”

“It’s for research.”

“It’s a fantasy book.”

Ray raised an eyebrow. “And you’re a vampire. So clearly fantasy and reality are more linked than I thought.”

Norman sighed, amused. “Yes. I heal fast. Yes, I hate garlic but not for vampire reasons. No, I don’t sparkle.”

“Damn,” Ray mumbled. “That was my last hope.”

Norman chuckled softly, shifting to get more comfortable without waking Emma.

Ray was quiet for a moment before asking, in a quieter voice, “Do you… drink human blood?”

The air stilled a little.

Norman didn’t answer immediately. His eyes dropped to Emma’s sleeping face. Then back to Ray.

“No,” he said softly. “I survive on animal blood. Always have.”

Ray frowned, slowly closing his book. “Always?”

There was a pause. A long one.

“…No,” Norman said again, but quieter this time. “Not always.”

Ray’s brows furrowed. “When then?”

Norman hesitated.

He glanced at Emma again, then back at Ray.

And then, finally, he spoke.

“It was years ago. Before I met you two. Before I transferred here. I was still under Ratri’s care.”

Ray sat up straighter.

“He wasn’t like a parent,” Norman said. “He was a lord. A tyrant. I was his blood, so I was raised to be his legacy. But I never wanted that. I didn’t want the violence. The entitlement. The cruelty.”

His voice grew colder with each word.

“But he insisted. Said I needed to ‘understand the hunger.’ So he arranged a ‘test.’ Locked me in a gilded chamber with a human. Told me to feed.”

Ray froze. “…What?”

“She was terrified,” Norman whispered. “Screaming, shaking. Not much older than we are now. I begged him to let her go. He said she was a traitor to the court and her death was already decided. This was a ‘mercy.’ That I had to learn control.”

Ray’s voice dropped. “Did you…?”

Norman shut his eyes.

“I drank,” he said. “Because I was scared. Because I didn’t know what else to do. Because he was standing there, and I didn’t think I had a choice. I drank… and I stopped before I killed her. But I still hurt her.”

Ray didn’t speak.

Norman opened his eyes. “The worst part? When I stepped back, shaking, sick, she looked at me and thanked me. Because I didn’t kill her. Because I was kinder than Ratri.”

His hands clenched slightly.

“Ratri had her executed anyway.”

Ray’s breath caught.

Norman looked down. “That was the last time I drank human blood. I vowed I never would again. I left Ratri’s estate two months later and never went back.”

The silence sat heavy in the room. Emma stirred lightly in her sleep but didn’t wake.

Norman’s voice was barely audible. “That’s why I despise him. He made me into something I hated. And he was proud of it.”

Ray stood slowly and walked over. He sat beside Norman on the couch, brushing Emma’s hair gently from her face before looking at Norman.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“You don’t have to be.”

“I am anyway.”

They sat in silence.

Then Ray said, a little gruffly, “You know, if I’d known vampires were this complicated and traumatized, I probably would’ve asked even more questions.”

Norman huffed a soft laugh. “You still can.”

Ray leaned his head against Norman’s shoulder. “I will.”

They stayed like that — Ray at one side, Emma breathing softly on the other, all three of them held together in the quiet safety of shared truth.

And for the first time in a long time, Norman didn’t feel haunted by the past.

He felt forgiven.

---

The school gates stood open, rustling in the early morning breeze, the way they always had.

For a moment, Norman just stood there.

He let the sun hit his face. Felt the breeze tug at his hair. Watched students mill about, the normal chatter of human life rising around him.

It felt… surreal.

After everything that had happened — the High Bloodmoon, the reveals, the bloodlines, the near-losses — the world had gone quiet again. Peaceful.

Not many people traveled after the vampire truth leaked. Cities locked down, certain towns closed off. But here? Life found a way to continue.

Adrian, Selene, Cyrus, and Lucia had all dropped out before the semester resumed. Vanished without warning. Most assumed their families moved or they transferred out. No one questioned it. No one knew the truth.

No one knew Norman was a vampire.

And for now — he liked it that way.

He walked through the halls with Emma on one side, bouncing excitedly, and Ray on the other, sipping coffee and pretending not to be amused by her energy.

“Did you guys see the sunrise this morning?” Emma beamed. “It was like pink and gold, like the sky was blushing!”

Norman smiled softly. “It was beautiful.”

Ray raised an eyebrow. “You were awake at sunrise?”

Emma shot him a wink. “I was dreaming about my snow prince.”

Ray snorted into his drink. Norman turned faintly pink.

“Still with that nickname?” he muttered, glancing at her.

Emma clasped her hands together dreamily. “My snow prince. With his winter-white hair, soft smiles, and icy intellect.”

“You forgot ‘immortal bloodline descendant of ancient vampire royalty,’” Ray added dryly.

Norman gave him a look. “I preferred ‘snow prince.’”

Emma giggled, grabbing Norman’s hand. He squeezed hers gently, warmth blooming in his chest despite the nickname.

They reached their classroom door. Norman paused as Ray walked ahead to their seats. He glanced around and, when no one was paying attention, gently tugged Ray back by the sleeve.

Ray turned, blinking. “What?”

“I wanted to say something.” Norman lowered his voice. “About… what I did. With the bite. The eternal claim.”

Ray’s eyes flickered with surprise.

“I didn’t ask,” Norman said quietly. “And I should have. I was scared of what Cyrus and Lucia would do to you. I acted without thinking. And you were dragged into something permanent. I’m sorry.”

Ray stared at him.

Then he sighed.

“I knew something was off that night. You kept avoiding eye contact and blushing like an idiot.”

Norman gave a weak laugh. “It wasn’t my best moment.”

Ray glanced past him, then back again. “Look… I don’t like people making decisions for me. But if I had to be eternally bound to someone…”

He trailed off.

Norman tilted his head. “Yeah?”

“…I guess I’m glad it was you,” Ray muttered, looking away. “Even if you’re dramatic as hell about it.”

Norman’s eyes softened. “Thank you.”

Ray shifted. “Just don’t go biting people left and right. I like being the special one.”

A smile curled on Norman’s lips. “You are.”

Ray’s face went a little pink. “Gross.”

Back at their seats, Emma called, “Are you two being cute without me again?”

“Always,” Ray shot back.

“Rude!”

They slipped into their seats, laughter and teasing resuming like nothing had changed — and in a way, it hadn’t.

The world outside might’ve seen monsters and chaos and lineage wars.

But in this classroom, Norman wasn’t a Velker or a son of Ratri.

He was just Norman. Emma's Snow Prince. Ray's Vampire.

And that… that was more than enough.

Notes:

Norman: you're not food Emma.
Me: cackles while writing the line.
Maybe in every universe.. They end up escaping the fate of being food

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