Megan had made exactly three decisions the next morning:
1. Avoid Victor Umbrae.
2. Ignore everyone who looked like they stepped out of a Vogue magazine.
3. Survive the day without crying in a bathroom stall.
She was determined. Focused. Fiercely low-profile…
Until she walked straight into Victor again.
Same hallway. Same smirk. Same stupidly perfect jawline.
"Miss Marshmallow returns," he drawled, arms folded over his chest. "How's day two treating you, cupcake?"
"Stop calling me that," Megan muttered, hugging her books tightly.
"Why?" he said, stepping closer. "I think it suits you. Sweet. Soft. Unexpected."
"Annoying. Unwanted. Overdone," she shot back.
He raised a brow, clearly amused.
"You're learning," he said, voice velvet and storm. "I like that."
---
By third period, she'd heard everything.
> "That's Victor Umbrae. Don't mess with him."
"He's rich. Like, old money rich."
"They say he lives alone in that giant Umbrae manor."
"I heard he made a guy disappear last year."
"He's seventeen but never ages."
Whispers floated like ghosts through the corridors.
And Victor? He walked through them like he owned the air.
Girls giggled. Boys kept their distance.
And Megan kept her head down.
Still, she felt him. Every time she entered a room. Like gravity shifted slightly toward his direction.
---
In the afternoon, she found herself alone in the library.
The ancient books smelled like secrets, and Megan liked it that way.
She traced her fingers over a title — The Umbrae Lineage — when a voice purred behind her.
"You're not allowed to touch that one."
She spun around.
Victor leaned against the shelf, all dark confidence and glowing eyes.
"No sign. No lock. No librarian," she said. "So I'm pretty sure I can."
"You're feisty today," he said, stepping closer. "Almost like you're not terrified of me."
She stepped back instinctively—and hit the shelf behind her. Victor stopped inches away, his body caging her without touching.
"I'm not scared of you," she lied.
"Oh, but you should be."
His eyes flickered gold for a second—just a second—and Megan's breath hitched.
"What… what are you?"
He smiled. Not kindly.
"Curious little human," he whispered. "That'll get you in trouble around here."
---
The next moment, he was gone. Just gone. No footsteps. No door creak. Just vanished.
Megan stood frozen. Her heart raced. Her fingers trembled.
Had she imagined it?
No. The air where he stood still felt warm. Like he'd pressed heat into it.
---
That night, Megan lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
Victor wasn't just mean or mysterious. He was wrong.
Wrong in a way that made her spine tingle and her skin flush.
And somehow… It made her want to see him again.
Just to prove to herself she wasn't insane.