didn't belong. The students moved through the corridors with effortless grace, their voices ringing with easy confidence, their laughter carr

meant to be he

ce. I had no intention of drawing attention to myself, but wandering around like a lost child wasn't helping my case. I approached a girl

-do you know where the St

the conversation with another girl as if I didn't exist. My stom

ied again, this time with a group o

, I'm look

is lips, not loud, but loud enough. The others smirked, their laughter hushed but pointed. I wasn't stupid.

little

dark tousled hair that curled slightly at the ends. His blazer was crisp, though his tie hung loose like he couldn't be bothered with formalit

. Two entwined serpents, fangs bared, circling a dag

ss bloo

mily known for their cunning, their ruthlessness. A lineage that

tudying me as if deciding how much fun he wanted to have. T

my stomach clench, but I did

"Go down two flights of stairs, past the first set of iron doors, and you'll see a hallway li

ed. "T

nothing as I turned and walked

ant sound of footsteps growing sparse. The grand, open halls narrowed into dim corridors, and t

ushed past them, revealing a long corridor lined with paintings. For a brief

ticed the

rk eyes. Not just portraits. Not just art. Their gazes felt alive, unblinking, follo

esitated, my instinct screaming to turn around, and I listened and decided to turn around and leave, but before I could do that out of the blues, I heard voices co

ady set. The girl's pr

ower, controlled. "She's more

What trial? And who was "the

rtbeat picking up as t

suspect anything, we d

beneath my boot creaked and as I was redirecting my feet out of nowhere, a hand clamped around my wrist. My br