Chapter 3 Secrets and Lies (Mira POV)
I don't sleep. Can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see Cain's face, feel the electric shock of his touch against my skin.
He's a vampire. I'm a Shadowborn. We're literally designed to destroy each other.
So why does every cell in my body want to find him again?
"You're thinking really loud," Zara mumbles from her bed. "Some of us are trying to sleep."
"Sorry."
"It's Cain, isn't it?" She rolls over to face me in the darkness. "You've got that look. The 'I made eye contact with a gorgeous vampire and now I'm questioning everything' look."
My blood runs cold. "What did you just say?"
"Vampire? Oh, come on. Everyone knows the Nightbloods are vampires. Or at least, everyone suspects. They don't eat in the dining hall, they're never around during the day, and they all have that weird ageless thing going on." She yawns. "But like, they keep to themselves and don't cause trouble, so everyone just pretends it's normal."
I sit up slowly. "You're serious. Everyone knows?"
"Well, not knows knows. But come on. This school has been around for like two hundred years, and the same families keep sending kids here generation after generation? It's not exactly subtle."
"And nobody cares?"
"Why would we? It's not like they're running around biting people." She pauses. "They're not, right? Has Cain tried to bite you?"
"No!"
"Then what's the problem? Look, Mira, I get that you're new and this is all weird, but Silvercrest has been a safe haven for supernatural students for centuries. Vampires, witches, shifters—anyone who doesn't fit in the normal world can come here and just… exist. It's kind of beautiful, actually."
My entire worldview tilts sideways. "Witches and shifters are real too?"
"Oh honey, are you really that sheltered?" Zara sits up now, genuinely concerned. "What kind of security consulting does your mom do?"
The kind that involves killing the people you're calling beautiful.
"Never mind," I say quickly. "Just tired. New place, information overload."
"Okay, but seriously—if Cain is interested in you, that's a good thing. The Nightbloods are basically royalty here. Plus he's gorgeous and mysterious and hasn't shown interest in anyone the entire time I've been here." She grins in the darkness. "You should go for it."
"We're not… I'm not interested."
"Uh-huh. That's why you've been staring at the ceiling for three hours."
I flop back down, pulling the covers over my head. "Go to sleep, Zara."
But her words keep echoing in my mind. A safe haven for supernaturals. Vampires living peacefully alongside humans. Everything my mother taught me says it's impossible—that vampires are monsters who can't be trusted, who'll always choose blood and violence.
But Cain didn't attack me. He warned me. Told me to run, to stay safe.
Unless that was the trap. Unless he's playing a longer game.
I touch the bracelet on my wrist, feeling the warmth of blessed silver against my skin. My mother gave me this when I was five years old, told me never to remove it, that it was the only thing keeping me safe from the monsters.
What if she was wrong?
Morning comes too soon. I drag myself to the dining hall, exhausted and confused and craving coffee like an addict.
Cain is already there.
He's sitting alone at the Nightbloods' usual table, a cup of what looks like coffee in front of him. But I notice he's not drinking it, just holding it like a prop.
Our eyes meet across the crowded room, and that same electric pull slams into me. My bracelet warms, not painfully but noticeably, like it's responding to his presence.
He looks away first, but not before I see the conflict in his expression.
"Okay, that was intense," Zara says, appearing at my elbow with a loaded breakfast tray. "You two need to just make out already and get it over with."
"Zara!"
"What? The sexual tension is visible from space. Either ask him out or stop eye-fucking each other across public spaces."
Heat floods my cheeks. "I don't even know him."
"So get to know him. It's not that complicated." She steers me toward an empty table. "Unless you're scared?"
"I'm not scared."
"Then prove it. Go talk to him."
Before I can chicken out, I'm walking toward the Nightbloods' table. My heart is hammering so hard I'm sure everyone in the room can hear it.
Cain looks up as I approach, and something flickers across his face—surprise, pleasure, fear, all mixed together.
"Can I sit?" I ask, proud that my voice sounds steady.
He glances around at his empty table, one eyebrow raised. "Looks like there's room."
I slide into the chair across from him, acutely aware of the stares we're attracting. Apparently, humans don't usually sit with the Nightbloods.
"Your coffee's getting cold," I observe.
"Don't really drink it. Just helps me blend in."
"Does it work?"
"You tell me. Did you think I was human when you first saw me?"
I consider lying, but something about the way he's looking at me makes honesty feel necessary. "No. I knew right away."
"How?"
"I could ask you the same thing. You knew I wasn't fully human."
"Fully?" He leans forward slightly. "What does that mean?"
This is dangerous territory. But I'm tired of lying, tired of pretending, tired of fighting this pull between us.
"It means my bloodline is… complicated."
"Complicated?"
" I shouldn't be sitting here with you."
"Then why are you?"
"Because I'm tired of running from things I don't understand." I meet his eyes directly. "And I don't understand you, Cain Valemont."
"What do you want to understand?"
"Why you warned me yesterday. Why you didn't attack me when you clearly recognized what I am. Why every instinct I have tells me you're dangerous, but I still can't stay away."
His expression softens, and for a moment, he looks almost human. Vulnerable.
"You feel it too," he says quietly. "This pull."
"Yes."
"It's not normal. I've been around for a long time, Mira. I've met thousands of humans, dozens of other supernatural beings. I've never felt anything like this."
"How long is a long time?"
"Long enough to know this is dangerous. For both of us."
"Your friends don't approve?"
"My coven," he corrects gently. "And no. They think you're a hunter. They think you're here to infiltrate and destroy us."
The accusation should make me defensive, but instead, I feel strangely calm. "Are they wrong?"
He studies my face for a long moment. "I don't know. Are they?"
This is the moment. I could lie, maintain my cover, stick to the mission my mother assigned me. Observe, learn, report back.
Or I could tell the truth and see what happens.
"I was raised by a hunter," I say carefully. "Trained to kill vampires since I was old enough to hold a weapon. Everything I know about your kind says you're monsters—that you can't be trusted, that you're incapable of coexisting peacefully with humans."
He nods slowly, unsurprised. "And now?"
"Now I'm not sure what to believe. Because you're sitting here having coffee you don't drink, pretending to be human, warning me to stay safe instead of ripping my throat out." I pause. "That's not very monster-like."
"Maybe I'm playing a long game."
"Are you?"
"If I am, it's not working. You're supposed to run, remember?"
"I'm not very good at following instructions."
The corner of his mouth quirks up in what might be a smile. "I'm starting to notice that."
"Cain!" A sharp voice cuts through our conversation. The platinum-haired girl from yesterday—Lyra—appears beside our table, her amber eyes blazing with barely concealed fury. "A word. Now."
He stands immediately, and I catch the shift in his body language. Deference, respect, a hint of fear. She's older, more powerful.
"I'll see you around, Mira," he says softly.
But Lyra's attention has already fixed on me, and the look in her eyes makes my blood run cold.
"Stay away from him, little hunter," she says, her voice pitched too low for human ears but perfectly clear to me. "Or I'll show you exactly how monstrous we can be."
Then they're gone, leaving me alone at the Nightbloods' table with my heart racing and my bracelet burning hot against my wrist.
Across the dining hall, Zara gives me a thumbs up, completely oblivious to the threat that just walked away.
I touch my bracelet, feeling the heat of blessed silver, and make a decision.
I'm not running. Not from Cain, not from the truth, not from whatever this impossible connection between us means.
Even if it kills me.