A Prank or a Perilous Truth?

I jolted awake with a gasp, my head pounding and thoughts fuzzy. Soft leather cushioned my body, and dim lighting cast shadows across an unfamiliar room. Where the hell was I? The events before my blackout rushed back—the interrogation room, that terrifying elevator ride, and Kaelen Vance's glowing blue eyes commanding me to sleep.

"Good. You're awake."

That voice. Deep, authoritative, and sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. I turned my head to see him sitting across from me in a leather armchair, one leg crossed over the other, looking irritatingly composed in his expensive suit. His intense eyes tracked my every movement like a predator.

"What did you do to me?" I demanded, my voice hoarse. "Where am I?"

Mr. Vance leaned forward slightly. "You're at Magnus Sterling's Academy. And as I mentioned before, I'm the headmaster."

I sat up too quickly, making my head spin. The room was elegant but austere—dark wooden furniture, bookshelves lining the walls, and not a single window. It looked like an office straight out of some British period drama.

"Magnus Sterling's Academy?" I repeated skeptically. "For what? Kidnapped college students?"

His jaw tightened. "For Greys. Which is what you are, Miss Thorne."

I blinked at him. "Greys? What, like aliens? Little green men except they're gray?" I couldn't help the hysterical laugh that escaped me. "Is this some kind of elaborate prank? Did Willow put you up to this?"

"This is not a prank." His voice hardened. "You are a Grey. A superhuman with extraordinary abilities that manifested today when you sent that girl flying down the hallway."

I stared at him, waiting for the punchline. When none came, I snorted. "Right. I'm a superhuman. And you're what, Professor X? Where's your wheelchair?"

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "I understand this is difficult to process, but your sarcasm isn't helping your situation."

I stood up, scanning the room more carefully. "Okay, where are the cameras? This is good, seriously. You almost had me." I started walking around, checking behind books and under furniture. "Willow really outdid herself this time. The special effects with your eyes was a nice touch."

When I approached him, reaching to check his suit pocket for hidden microphones, everything happened in a blur. His hand shot out, fingers circling my wrists with bruising force. He stood, towering over me, and suddenly his eyes flashed that unnatural blue again.

"Do not touch me again," he growled, his voice vibrating with power. "The next time you do, there will be consequences."

Fear sliced through me like a cold blade. This wasn't acting. No special effects could explain the strength in his grip or the way his eyes literally glowed.

"Let go of me," I whispered, hating how my voice trembled.

He released my wrists but didn't step back, using his height to intimidate me further. "I can compel you to do anything, Miss Thorne. I did it before in the elevator. I could do it again."

A vague memory surfaced—his command to sleep and my body responding instantly. My stomach dropped as reality began sinking in. What if he wasn't lying?

"That's not possible," I argued weakly, rubbing my wrists. "People can't just control other people with their voices."

"Greys can," he countered smoothly. "Some of us, anyway. It's one of many gifts we possess."

I backed away from him until my legs hit the couch, forcing me to sit. "This is insane. I'm Hazel Thorne. I'm a normal girl from a normal family. My mom's in a psychiatric hospital, and my dad's dead. There's nothing special about me."

His expression softened marginally. "Your mother's condition and your father's death are not what you think they are. There's much you don't know about your heritage."

My heart pounded painfully against my ribs. "What are you saying? That my mom isn't really sick? That my dad isn't really dead?"

"Your father is indeed deceased," he said carefully. "As for your mother, her mental illness has been... exacerbated by certain factors related to her Grey biology."

I shook my head vigorously. "No. You're lying. My mom's human. I'm human. This is crazy."

"Is it?" He took a step closer. "Then how do you explain what happened today? The strength you displayed? The way I put you to sleep with just a word?"

I had no answer for that.

He pressed his advantage, moving even closer. "Haven't you ever experienced things you couldn't explain? Moments of unusual strength? Quick healing? Dreams that seemed too real?"

My mind flashed to occasions where I'd lifted things that seemed too heavy, times when cuts and bruises had vanished overnight. I'd always dismissed them as adrenaline or poor memory.

"That doesn't mean I'm some kind of superhuman," I insisted, but doubt was creeping in.

"You are a Grey," he repeated firmly. "And now that your powers have manifested, you need training. That's what we do here at the Academy."

I looked around the room again, feeling trapped. "So what, I'm supposed to just accept this? Leave my entire life behind because you say so?"

"Your 'entire life' as you put it, was temporary at best." His tone was dismissive. "This is who you really are."

Anger flared inside me, hot and sudden. "You don't get to decide that! You can't just kidnap me and tell me everything I've ever known is a lie!"

"I didn't kidnap you," he corrected coldly. "You came willingly. Remember your choices? Prison or the Academy?"

"That's coercion!" I shot back. "And how do I know this place is any better than prison?"

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "You don't."

Fear and frustration collided inside me. I felt like I was drowning in impossibilities. Part of me still clung to the hope that this was an elaborate hoax, but deeper down, I was beginning to suspect the terrible truth.

"Can I leave?" I asked, hating how small my voice sounded.

"No."

The bluntness of his answer made me flinch. "So I am a prisoner."

"You're a student," he corrected. "And leaving would be dangerous—both for you and for others. Untrained Greys are unpredictable, especially when their powers first manifest."

I swallowed hard, trying to process everything. If what he was saying was true—and the rational part of my brain was beginning to think it might be—then I had hurt Bianca because of these... powers. The thought made me sick.

"What happens now?" I asked quietly.

"Now you begin your education." He moved back to his chair, seemingly satisfied that I was no longer in denial. "You'll be assigned quarters, a guide, and a class schedule. You'll learn to control your abilities and understand our world."

"Your world," I repeated. "Are we... not on Earth anymore?"

He looked amused for the first time. "We are very much on Earth, Miss Thorne. Just in a realm separate from the human one. The barriers between worlds are quite complex."

My head was spinning again. Other realms? Barriers between worlds? This was too much.

"I still don't believe you," I said, but my declaration lacked conviction.

He leaned forward, his face suddenly uncomfortably close to mine. I could smell his cologne—something expensive and masculine that made my pulse quicken despite my fear.

"You will," he whispered, his breath warm on my face. "And sooner than you think."

His proximity was overwhelming, threatening and somehow thrilling at the same time. The air between us seemed charged with electricity.

"I can make you do anything, remember?" he murmured, his eyes briefly flashing that unearthly blue. "Believe me. Obey me. Want me. Anything."

My breath caught in my throat as something hot and unwelcome coiled in my stomach. Before I could respond or even process my reaction, the door swung open.