I hadn't spoken to my parents in three days.
Not about the fire in my hands.
Not about the bones in my back aching like wings wanted out.
Not about the way the world felt different now—louder, and sharper.
They tried. I saw it in the way Mom hovered by my bedroom door like a ghost, carrying a tray of untouched food.
I saw it in Dad's silence at dinner, how he looked up every time I moved like he was afraid I'd flip.
But how do you tell your parents to be calm when they lied to you most of your life?
How could I even trust them when it seemed everything around me was falling apart ever since I emerged as a dragon.
So, I shut them out.
And I went to school because it was easier than sitting in silence and pretending I wasn't falling apart.
The second I stepped outside, the air prickled against my skin. Cold. Electric. My hoodie suddenly felt too thin, my senses too exposed. My heartbeat sped up for no good reason.
That was new. It almost felt like someone was watching me.
I shook the thought off, tightening my grip on my backpack straps as I walked. It was probably nothing. Just nerves. I hadn't slept much.
But still—every time I passed a street corner, I felt it. Like eyes crawling up my spine.
At school, the feeling didn't go away.
It got worse.
The halls were too loud, too bright. Students shoved past each other like always, but I couldn't focus on any one voice. Every laugh felt too sharp. Every whisper felt like it was about me.
My locker jammed—again. I slammed it shut, cursed under my breath, and turned toward first period.
And that's when I saw him.
Standing by the whiteboard in Mr. Atkin's classroom was someone new. Not a sub I recognized. He looked… out of place.
Sharp jaw, tailored coat, salt-and-pepper hair that was almost too neat. He looked more like a federal agent than a teacher.
"Mr. Atkin's out today," Mira who stood beside me whispered, slipping into a seat. "That guy's the sub. Creepy, right?"
Creepy wasn't the word I would've picked.
Wrong was better.
Everything about him felt off—too still, too quiet, like a predator holding still before the pounce.
I took my seat near the window, heart thudding a little faster. I stared out at the parking lot, but my mind wasn't on cars or clouds.
It was on him.
He didn't write his name on the board. Didn't introduce himself. Just stood there for a beat too long before finally speaking.
"Pop quiz," he said, his voice deep, almost bored. "Take out a sheet of paper. No talking."
Groans echoed around the room. Some kids rolled their eyes. A few cursed under their breath. But no one disobeyed.
I fumbled for my notebook, fingers cold.
He moved down the aisle, handing out stapled papers. I tried not to look at him when he paused at my desk.
But he paused longer than he should've.
Then he leaned in slightly, his voice a soft rasp.
"Nova, right?"
I froze.
My name had not been called.
I didn't answer. Just nodded once, eyes locked on the page.
"Interesting name," he murmured. "Like a star. Or… something explosive."
A chill crawled down my back. I kept my head down and didn't answer. I could feel his eyes still on me. Watching. Weighing.
Then he moved on.
I stared at the quiz, but I couldn't read the words. Letters swam in front of my eyes. My pulse thundered in my ears.
He knows who I am.
But how?
No one at this school should've known anything. I hadn't told anyone. I hadn't shown anything—not since the night in the woods.
I turned my head, just a little, catching his reflection in the classroom window.
He was looking at me.
I looked away.
Twenty agonizing minutes later, the bell rang. I shot out of my seat, shoving the unfinished quiz in my bag and bolting for the door.
His voice stopped me cold.
"Miss Acrux. A word."
I turned slowly, throat dry.
He stood behind his desk now, hands folded, expression unreadable. "Your quiz. You didn't finish."
"I'll make it up tomorrow," I said quickly. "I'm not feeling well."
He tilted his head. "You sure you're feeling… yourself?"
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
He smiled. But it wasn't kind.
Just sharp.
"Go on then," he said, gesturing toward the door. "Take care of that spark. Wouldn't want you to burn out."
My mouth went dry.
I walked fast, ignoring the way his words chased me down the hall.
I ducked into the bathroom and locked myself into a stall, hands trembling.
What the hell was happening?
I pulled out my phone and opened a new message. My fingers hovered over Lucian's contact.
Should I tell him?
Would he even believe me?
He would. He'd seen what I was. He was a dragon like me. He—
A knock on the bathroom door made me flinch.
Too loud. Too close.
I shoved my phone back into my pocket and slipped out of the stall.
No one was there.
But the knock had been real. I wasn't imagining it.
I didn't go to my next class. I walked out the back of the school and sat behind the gym, where the maintenance door stayed propped open. My breath clouded in the cool air.
Something was happening. Something big.
And I was the center of it.
I pulled my hoodie tighter, heart still racing. I closed my eyes.
That's when I felt it again.
The watching.
The hunting.
Someone was near.
My skin prickled like static. I stood up and turned slowly, scanning the parking lot. Students walked in groups, laughed, shoved each other. But none of them were looking at me.
Not directly.
I started walking, fast.
I had to get out. Go home. Figure this out somewhere safe.
But as I rounded the corner of the building, I ran into him.
The substitute.
He stood there, like he'd been waiting.
"Lost?" he asked.
I stepped back. "What do you want from me?"
His smile didn't reach his eyes. "I just wanted to see if the rumors were true."
I backed away. "What rumors?"
"That the Solarian dragon has awakened."
My heart stopped.
No one was supposed to know that word. Not unless—
"You're not a teacher," I whispered.
He smiled. And then, he was gone.
Just disappeared like a shadow burned away.
I turned and ran.
I didn't stop until I reached the front of the school. Students were still spilling out for lunch. I slipped into the crowd, trying to keep my head down, trying to blend in.
I made it into my next class, out of breath, shaking.
The real teacher was there. Normal. Kind. No threats behind her smile.
I took my seat and stared at the whiteboard, trying to breathe.
Maybe I imagined it.
Maybe I'm going crazy.
Then something dripped onto my desk.
A single drop of red. Blood.
I jerked back, heart slamming against my ribs.
Another drop. Then another.
But when I looked up, there was no wound. No injured classmate. No obvious source.
Just blood. Dripping from nowhere.
My classmates didn't seem to notice.
But I couldn't stop staring.
And suddenly, I knew.
Deep within my soul that something was up.