Chapter 2 – Unwanted Attention.

If Eldermire had a heartbeat, it pulsed beneath the feet of the Supreme Council.

The morning after the Welcome Assembly, the school's hierarchy became painfully clear. Supernaturals ruled. Humans existed. And scholarship students like me? We were at the bottom of the food chain.

The Nobility, wealthy human students from powerful families walked like they owned the place. The Adept, the supernatural scholarship students, carried themselves with sharp pride, as if they had something to prove. But The Forsaken, my rank, were nothing more than ghosts. Unseen. Unimportant.

I should have been fine with that. Invisible meant safe. But ever since yesterday, something had shifted. People were noticing me.

And I didn't like it.

Whispers followed me through the hallways. Stares lingered too long. It wasn't blatant no one confronted me outright but it was there. A silent curiosity.

Sofia noticed it too. "Told you," she muttered as we walked toward the main courtyard. "People saw Raphael looking at you."

I rolled my eyes. "It was barely a glance."

Sofia snorted. "Mira, in this school, that's enough to start a civil war."

I sighed, adjusting the strap of my bag over my shoulder. I hadn't even spoken to Raphael beyond that weird moment in the hallway. And yet, somehow, my existence was already a conversation.

A group of students passed us, their eyes flickering my way before whispering among themselves.

I clenched my jaw.

I had one rule in this school stay under the radar. And somehow, I was already failing.

****

The main courtyard was one of the biggest open spaces on campus a sprawling area with stone benches, tall archways, and towering blackwood trees. Morning sunlight filtered through the branches, casting shadows over the checkered stone pathways.

Sofia and I found an open bench near the edge of the courtyard, away from most of the crowd. I let out a slow breath and pulled out my notebook. Maybe if I looked busy, people would move on.

"Alright," Sofia said, stretching her arms over her head. "What's your first class?"

"Literature."

She wrinkled her nose. "Boring. I've got Combat Training."

"Of course you do."

She grinned. "It's a good way to meet people. Plus, nothing says 'I like you' like punching someone in the face."

I smirked. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

Sofia opened her mouth to respond but before she could, the air around us shifted.

A heavy, unnatural stillness settled over the courtyard. Conversations dimmed. Movements slowed. It was like a silent command had passed through the air.

A familiar tension curled in my stomach as I kept my eyes on my notebook. I didn't need more reasons for people to stare at me.

But apparently, fate hated me.

Because just as I focused on my notes, a shadow loomed over me.

"Well, well," a voice drawled. "I don't believe we've met properly."

I looked up.

Azazel Morningstar.

Up close, he was too much.

Too tall. Too sharp. Too confident. His black curls framed a smirking face, his dark red eyes gleaming with something dangerous. He carried himself like someone who had never been told 'no' in his entire life.

Sofia stiffened beside me.

I kept my expression blank. "And you are?"

Azazel's smirk widened, like he was amused.

"The fact that you have to ask is adorable." He tilted his head. "You're the new human, aren't you?"

I crossed my arms. "And you're observant. I'm impressed."

He chuckled. "You've got bite. That's rare for a Forsaken."

I didn't respond. I didn't trust him.

Azazel wasn't like Raphael. Raphael's coldness was silent, unreadable. Azazel's was playful, predatory. He enjoyed making people squirm.

He watched me for a moment, his red eyes flickering with something unreadable. "Tell me, little Forsaken… why are people whispering about you?"

I tensed.

Sofia jumped in quickly. "They're not."

Azazel didn't look at her. His attention stayed locked on me.

I held his gaze. "I wouldn't know. Maybe they're bored."

A beat of silence.

Then Azazel grinned.

Sharp. Wicked. Amused.

"I like you," he said simply. Then he reached out too fast and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear before I could pull away.

A chill ran down my spine.

Azazel's touch wasn't gentle. It was intentional. Testing.

"See you around, little Forsaken."

Then he turned and strolled away, vanishing into the crowd as if nothing had happened.

Sofia exhaled sharply. "What the hell was that?"

I didn't answer.

Because as much as I hated it I had a feeling this wasn't the last time Azazel would come looking for me.

"I cannot believe you just survived that."

Sofia was staring at me like I had just high-fived death itself.

I frowned. "Survived what?"

She flailed a hand in the direction Azazel had disappeared. "That! Azazel freaking Morningstar Lucifer's heir just strolled up to you, flirted with you, and you" She threw her arms in the air. "acted like he was some random dude trying to sell you life insurance."

I rolled my eyes. "He tucked my hair behind my ear. Not exactly an assassination attempt."

Sofia groaned and grabbed my shoulders. "Mira. Listen to me. Azazel Morningstar does not talk to people like us. He doesn't look at people like us. And he definitely does not touch people like us unless he's about to kill them. And you" she jabbed a finger at my forehead, "just let him do it!"

I smirked. "Would you have preferred if I bit him?"

"YES."

A snort came from behind us.

We turned just as a boy flopped onto the bench beside me, throwing his legs up and stretching out like he owned the place.

"That," he said lazily, "was the best conversation I've eavesdropped on all morning."

I blinked. He wasn't human. That much was obvious.

He was tall and lanky, with messy dark blue hair streaked with silver strands, like someone had dipped him in moonlight halfway through birth and then decided, nah, that's enough. His sharp green eyes gleamed with amusement, and the mischievous curve of his lips made him look permanently seconds away from doing something he shouldn't.

He grinned. "Mirabel Rosan, right?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Who's asking?"

He let out a dramatic sigh. "Wow. Cold. And here I was about to offer you a free survival guide to Eldermire."

Sofia crossed her arms. "And who exactly are you?"

He tilted his head. "Gideon Locke. But you can call me Gideon the Magnificent."

Sofia squinted. "No."

"Fair." He shrugged. "Anyway, I figured I should introduce myself, seeing as we're both social rejects in this fine establishment."

I frowned. "You don't look like a Forsaken."

Gideon smirked. "That's because technically, I'm not. I'm Adept."

Sofia stiffened slightly. I had learned yesterday that the Adept he scholarship supernaturals weren't treated as badly as Forsaken, but they still weren't fully accepted.

I folded my arms. "So why do you look so happy about being at the bottom of the food chain?"

"Oh, I'm not at the bottom," Gideon said, flashing a sharp grin. "I'm just not where they want me to be."

I exchanged a glance with Sofia.

Gideon leaned forward, his green eyes gleaming with mischief. "See, Eldermire doesn't know what to do with me. My bloodline? Technically noble. My magic? Too strong to be ignored. My attitude?" He spread his arms. "An absolute nightmare."

Sofia snorted. "You don't say."

Gideon winked. "They don't want me up there" he tilted his head toward where the Supreme Council had disappeared "but they also really don't want me down here. So I just…" He made a see-saw motion with his hand. "Exist. Irritate the right people. Survive."

I arched an eyebrow. "So you're basically the glitch in their perfect system?"

His grin widened. "See, I knew I liked you."

Sofia sighed. "Why do I feel like I just gained two problems instead of one?"

Gideon threw an arm over my shoulders, smirking. "Relax. I promise to only be the second biggest problem in Mirabel's life."

I shoved his arm off. "And what's the first?"

He chuckled, standing up. "Oh, you'll find out soon enough."

And with that, he disappeared into the crowd.

Sofia and I sat there in silence for a moment.

Finally, she exhaled. "I hate that I kind of like him."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "You and me both."

****

The first official day of classes at Eldermire felt like walking into a different world.

Back in my old schools, class was class boring lectures, scribbling notes, half-heartedly pretending to care. Here? Every hallway hummed with something unnatural. The air itself seemed charged, like the very walls held secrets I wasn't meant to understand.

I split from Sofia after breakfast, heading toward my first class: Literature & Historical Texts.

Exciting.

Most of the students had already taken their seats when I walked in. I found an empty desk near the middle and sat down, keeping my head low. If I had learned anything in the last twenty-four hours, it was that attention at this school was dangerous.

I had just pulled out my notebook when a shadow fell over me.

"You're in my seat."

I glanced up.

The girl standing in front of me had the sharp, effortless beauty of someone born into power long dark hair, piercing blue eyes, an expression carved from ice. A Nobility student, clearly. Maybe even a Sovereign.

I sighed. "Pretty sure the seats aren't assigned."

A few students around us tensed. The girl's lips curled. "They are when I say they are."

Ah. One of those.

I was too tired for this. "Well, that's adorable, but I think I'll stay."

The temperature in the room seemed to drop. The girl tilted her head slightly, eyes flashing. Challenge accepted.

But before she could say anything, the professor walked in. "Take your seats," he called, barely glancing up from the stack of papers in his hand.

The girl gave me one last look a silent promise that this wasn't over then turned and stalked toward another seat.

Great. Day one and I already had an enemy.

The first half of the class was as normal as a class in a supernatural school could be. The professor droned on about the importance of historical records, citing old texts that supposedly contained the "foundation of supernatural law."

I was half-listening, doodling in the margins of my notebook, when something caught my attention.

A passage from the book we were assigned to read.

"Bloodlines are sacred, for within them lies the power of the past. The stronger the bloodline, the stronger the inheritance. But blood can be hidden, diluted, and even erased until fate demands its return."

A strange chill prickled down my spine.

I stared at the words. Blood can be hidden. Erased. Until fate demands its return.

It felt… too familiar.

I swallowed and flipped the page.

Whatever. It was just a book.

Next Class : Combat Training.

By the time I arrived at the training grounds, I was already mentally exhausted.

The training arena was massive an open-air coliseum-like space with stone floors and tall walls. Students were already gathered in groups, stretching, sparring, or waiting for instructions.

A sharp whistle cut through the air.

"All right, listen up!"

The instructor was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a scar running down his jawline Professor Callen, the Combat Master. He had the kind of presence that commanded attention, his dark eyes sweeping over the students like he was already picking out weaknesses.

"First years, you're with me," he said. "Pair up. I want to see what we're working with."

I sighed. Of course. Day one, and we were already fighting.

Students immediately started pairing off. I was about to look for Sofia when someone stepped in front of me.

A boy with sharp hazel eyes and a smirk that practically screamed trouble.

"Well, well," he drawled. "Looks like you're stuck with me, Forsaken."

I exhaled slowly.

Gideon.

Because of course it was.

I stared at Gideon. Gideon stared back.

"Well?" he said, cracking his knuckles. "Ready to get your ass kicked?"

I sighed. "You sound way too excited about this."

"Oh, I am." He grinned. "It's not every day I get to fight a Forsaken."

I folded my arms. "You realize I have zero combat training, right?"

His smirk widened. "That just makes it more fun."

I groaned, rubbing my temples. "I hate you."

"I love that you think that'll stop me from enjoying this."

Before I could come up with an appropriately scathing response, Professor Callen's voice boomed through the arena.

"First years, listen up! Rules are simple no killing, no permanent injuries, and if I say stop, you stop. Other than that? Anything goes."

A ripple of excitement went through the students. I, meanwhile, was fighting the urge to bolt.

Professor Callen's sharp eyes landed on me. "Forsaken girl."

I stiffened. "Mirabel."

His lips twitched. "Mirabel, then. You ever fought before?"

I exhaled slowly. "Not unless you count arguing with Sofia."

A few students chuckled. Callen did not.

He studied me for a long second, then nodded toward Gideon. "Locke, don't break her."

Gideon saluted. "Wouldn't dream of it, sir."

I highly doubted that.

Callen took a step back and signaled for us to begin.

I barely had time to think before Gideon moved.

Fast. Too fast.

One second he was standing in front of me, the next he was behind me.

I spun around just in time to see his smirk before he swept my legs out from under me.

The ground slammed into my back before I could even react.

I groaned. "Okay. Ow."

Gideon crouched next to me, grinning. "You lasted way longer than I thought."

I glared. "It's been three seconds."

"Exactly."

I growled and pushed myself up. "You're the worst."

He winked. "And yet, you're still standing here."

Not for long.

He moved again, and this time, I barely managed to sidestep. I could feel every set of eyes in the arena watching me.

The only human in a supernatural school.

Gideon wasn't even using his full strength. If he was, I'd already be on the ground again.

I clenched my fists. I hated this.

I hated the way people were watching. I hated the way I had no power here.

I hated that I was weak.

Gideon lunged again, aiming for my shoulder. I had no time to think just react.

I ducked. Barely.

"Not bad," he mused. "But still not good."

And then he vanished.

My stomach dropped. Where?

A sharp force slammed into my back, sending me sprawling forward. Dust kicked up around me as I hit the ground, my breath knocked from my lungs.

The arena erupted into laughter.

Heat rushed to my face. They were enjoying this. Watching the weak little human get tossed around.

Gideon held out a hand, looking far too pleased with himself. "Come on, Mira. Let's at least make it look like a fight."

I swatted his hand away and forced myself up, my muscles already aching.

No powers. No training. No chance in hell of winning.

But I refused to stay down.

I set my jaw. "Again."

In the end lost, horribly.

By the time Gideon swept my legs out from under me for the fifth time, I was breathless, sore, and ready to strangle him.

I lay on the ground, staring at the sky, trying to pretend that half the class wasn't laughing under their breath.

Gideon crouched beside me, grinning. "You alive?"

I groaned. "Unfortunately."

He offered a hand. This time, I took it, because dignity was overrated, and I was too exhausted to pretend otherwise.

As soon as I was back on my feet, the other students moved on, pairing up for their own fights. That's when things got interesting.

For the first time since arriving at Eldermire, I saw true supernatural power in action.

One of the Adept students a werewolf shifted halfway through a fight, his claws slashing through the air. His opponent, a vampire, dodged with inhuman speed, his eyes glowing bright crimson.

A Sovereign girl unleashed a blast of blue fire from her palms, her opponent throwing up a golden shield just in time to block it. The air crackled with magic.

Another student, an angel, shot into the sky, his massive white wings unfurling as he dodged a ground attack.

I stood there, frozen, completely entranced.

This wasn't just sparring. This was war training.

"Holy sh*t," I breathed.

Gideon smirked beside me. "Impressive, isn't it?"

I nodded slowly. "I knew Eldermire was different, but this… This is something else."

He chuckled. "You haven't seen anything yet."

Before I could ask what he meant, the air around us suddenly changed.

A sharp, electric tension filled the arena, sending a chill through my spine.

The other fights slowed.

All attention turned to the center of the training ground.

Because two people had just stepped forward.

Azazel Morningstar.

And.

Raphael Ash.

I didn't even realize I had stopped breathing until Gideon leaned in slightly, voice low.

"This always ends in a tie," he murmured. "Or Raphael wins."

A shiver ran down my spine.

I didn't know why, but seeing both of them together like this standing on opposite ends of the arena, their auras dangerously sharp made my skin crawl.

Azazel rolled his shoulders, grinning like a devil unleashed.

Raphael stood still. Calm. Cold. Completely unreadable.

"Begin," Professor Callen announced.

Azazel moved first.

I barely saw it. One second he was standing still the next, he vanished, his entire body flickering out of sight before reappearing behind Raphael.

I flinched, expecting the attack to land but Raphael was already gone.

Not dodging. Not stepping aside.

Just.

Gone.

A blur of motion.

Then

A deafening shockwave blasted through the air.

A black flame erupted from Azazel's hands, clashing against a sudden burst of golden light from Raphael. Fire against divinity.

The ground shook beneath us.

Gasps rippled through the watching students. Even some of the upperclassmen looked uneasy.

Azazel's smirk widened, his crimson eyes glowing.

"You're holding back, little brother."

I stiffened. Little brother?

Raphael didn't respond. His expression didn't change. But in an instant his wings exploded from his back.

The crowd gasped.

I did too.

They weren't like the other angels' wings I had seen before.

They were… both.

One pure white, feathered and glowing.

The other black as night, edged with something unholy.

Entwined together.

Like he didn't belong to either Heaven or Hell.

My breath caught. He's a Nephilim.

Azazel's smirk twitched. "There he is."

Then they clashed again.

Azazel lunged, his flames roaring hotter, his power shaking the entire arena. Raphael moved like light itself, golden energy crackling in his palm, his face still eerily calm.

A blur of fire and divinity.

A battle between two forces that should never coexist.

They were unstoppable.

Until

Professor Callen moved.

It happened so fast I barely saw it.

One second, the arena was filled with burning shadows and divine light. The next Callen raised his hand.

And everything stopped.

A crushing force rippled through the air, slamming into both Raphael and Azazel, forcing them apart.

They both skidded backward, landing hard.

"Enough," Callen's voice boomed.

The silence that followed was heavy.

The fight was over.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

Azazel chuckled, shaking out his arms, his grin still in place.

"Guess we'll have to finish this another time, little brother."

Raphael said nothing.

He simply folded his wings back, dusted himself off, and walked away.

Like none of this had mattered.

Like he hadn't just reminded the entire school why he was feared.

I swallowed hard.

Because for the first time since arriving at Eldermire…

I understood.

Raphael Ash wasn't just powerful.

He was something else entirely.