2

T he grandfather clock that echoes throughout the entire castle begins to strike, telling me it’s ten minutes until class. I’ve been staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror for the past ten minutes while Mel and Poppy argue about their hair.

Mel leans on the sink beside me, twirling her black hair around a finger while glaring at her twin. “I still don’t think you should have cut it,” she says, using one extremely long, sharp nail—which could pass for a dangerous weapon—to flick her sister’s short curls just above her shoulders. “Why did you dye the ends pink? You look like… What is it the humans call it? A Barbie doll.”

She glances at me for confirmation, and I give a short nod.

Poppy scowls at her sister, eyes glowing yellow. “Mortals dye their hair, and the professors want us to be capable of living amongst them come graduation. You grew your nails to resemble blades, so what’s the harm in me coloring my hair?”

“You look ridiculous. Sera has brown hair and she’s human. And what are you doing with your eyeliner? You’re not a cat,” is her twin’s reply.

Ignoring Poppy’s building rage, she turns to me. “We’ll meet you at class, Sera.”

“Try not to kill each other on the way.”

My forest-green eyes stare back at me as I finish washing my hands. My friends have changed their appearances a lot in the past four weeks. Being around me definitely doesn’t help their new obsession with looking human—every day, they ask me multiple questions about what it’s like to be powerless and if I’m scared to die of old age.

I’ve grown used to their questions though. At first, the whole immortal aspect of the students made me uneasy, but now, although some of my classmates are terrifying, I’m just focused on getting the hell off this island.

A month. An entire month of this and I still have no answers as to why I’m here.

The halls are busy when I exit the bathroom, students making their way to class in a rush, some glaring at me as I try to get through the crowd.

Someone materializes in front of me, and a solid shoulder hits mine. The abrupt collision is hard enough that I fall to the ground, a rush of air escaping my lips and my books scattering across the floor.

The same person who appeared in front of me a month ago on the beach is staring down at me—dark brows, white hair that falls over his left eye, tall enough to make me crane my neck.

I scowl at the large presence as he squats closer to my level, elbows resting on his thighs. His eyes dance at the sight of me on my knees before him, trying to gather my things.

“You should watch where you’re going. This seems to be a daily occurrence now.”

He moves a few strands of hair covering my eyes and face, tucking them behind my ears. Although the act is soft, the expression and the way he’s looking at me tells a different story.

“See you in class, mortal.”

I seethe, slapping him away and gathering my things as he straightens his spine, smirking down at me. “Stop touching me. And I already told you to stay out of my way.”

He looks down at me, eyes flashing from green to silver, the way they always do when he stares at me. His teeth are clenched—I can tell from how tense his jaw is.

I’ve still to find out what type of immortal he is. Regardless, he doesn’t scare me.

As if he’s read my mind, he lets out a soft laugh and glances over his shoulder at the incoming professor. The corridor empties as she approaches.

“Seraphine Winters!”

She waves her hand, and invisible fingers wrap tight around my throat, yanking me to my feet as I choke.

“Stop causing trouble and get to your class!” Her voice lowers as she turns to face my bully. “I can only apologize for her clumsiness, Mr. Dalton.”

“No apologies needed,” he says in a deep tone, dragging his gaze up and down my body while I struggle. Dimples dent deep as he smirks. “I think the human likes being on her knees for everyone. Maybe she should stay there. It seems to be the only place she belongs.”

Dane Dalton is his name. He’s the son of the headmistress and the biggest dickhead in the academy, and if I had the chance, I’d kill him with my bare hands. As if being trapped here isn’t bad enough, Dane has some unnecessary rage towards me, like I’ve ruined his entire life just by breathing the same air as him.

He laughs down at me before fixing his crisp white cuffs and vanishing on the spot, taking his friends with him.

The teacher grimaces at me then releases her invisible hold. I drop to the ground once more—painfully. I try not to say a nasty comment as her heels click away from me.

Welcome to Quarrierton Academy, where violence is praised, and the weak and mortal are punished.