Chapter 59: The Mermaid’s Mark of Shame
{IRIS}
Even now, as I watched the golden-haired vampire glide toward the front of the room, the memory of Lord Valtheris twisted through my chest like a dark ribbon.
I didn’t understand it. I didn’t know why his name alone could send shivers whispering beneath my skin.
It was only in the library that I truly saw him—yet the moment our eyes met, a strange familiarity stirred within me, as though I had known him far longer than my memory allowed.
He was the very vampire Lord Val had warned me to avoid at all costs... though I still did not understand why Lord Valtheris lingered so stubbornly in my thoughts from the moment I first gazed upon him.
And I knew one thing with unsettling clarity:
Being near him felt like standing on the edge of something vast and forbidden.
Something that could swallow me whole.
Something I should fear.
And yet—
I wanted to be near him still.
The newcomer’s gaze swept over the class, slow and assessing. When his eyes passed by me, my breath caught—not out of attraction, but out of instinct. Pure instinct. A prey animal meeting the eyes of a predator.
As he looked away, I exhaled shakily.
Around me, the students straightened, eager or frightened or both. I remained in my seat, small, alone, tucked in the shadowed corner of the room.
I first learned his name when a classmate called out to him across the room. Sol.
The young vampire’s name was Sol Evernight—another noble line in the ancient hierarchy of their kind. The Evernights held dominion over darkness itself, born with bloodlines said to stir the shadows like silk drapes in a storm.
Not that any of that mattered here. Within the Academy’s classrooms, powerful sigils thrummed from floor to ceiling, etched into stone and wood alike. They formed an invisible dome of restriction—an arcane barrier that pressed faintly against the skin like cold breath.
No one could use their innate magic without permission. Here, even vampires, merfolk, fae, and wolves were rendered merely students trapped within the same mundane rules.
I was still trying to calm my nerves when a voice snapped beside me.
"Hey, scoot over."
I blinked and turned.
A tall, lean young man hovered beside my desk with the most fragile-looking complexion I had ever seen—pale, almost sickly grey skin like moonstone left in winter frost. His hair was pure white, falling in soft, careless strands, and heavy dark shadows pooled under eyes that were startlingly bloodshot.
He would have been handsome—striking, even—if not for the strange, languid way he moved, like a cat half-awake or a noble too tired of pretending he cared.
"That’s my seat, gurl~," he said, flicking his hand with lazy disdain. The rings stacked on his pale fingers chimed together, a soft, jangling whisper of metal that announced his presence before his perfume even reached me.
"Scoot over. I don’t want to sit by the window—the sunlight is absolutely tragic for my skin."
His tone was so dramatic, so flamboyantly distressed, that I scooted over before my mind even processed the words.
"Oh—sorry about that."
"No worry, babe," he said with a soft giggle as he plopped gracefully into the chair. Then he extended his hand with theatrical flourish. "I’m Jaysabel Pearls. But you may call me Jay. I didn’t see you yesterday—did you skip, get lost, fall into a portal, or simply miss the first day of school?"
"Ah... yes. I was sick."
I forced a polite smile. No one needed to know I had been dragged into the freezing lake by a mermaid who apparently found drowning new students entertaining.
And certainly no one needed the humiliating details of how close I came to dying.
"My name is Iris Snow."
Jay blinked once... then burst into a loud, delighted guffaw that made half the classroom flinch.
"Wait—wait—" He clutched his stomach dramatically. "Don’t tell me you’re the girl who got sick because that mermaid monster played a prank on you?!"
My entire face burned.
His voice was shrill, bright, and—worst of all—loud enough to reach the farthest corner of the room.
Conversations paused. Chairs turned. Dozens of eyes fixed on me with a mixture of curiosity, pity, and thinly veiled amusement.
I wanted to sink through the floor and disappear.
"Isn’t that her?"
"Yeah, that’s the one."
"Poor girl."
"On the very first day too? Harsh."
"Bad luck being pranked by that mermaid."
"Didn’t she read the handbook?"
"What was she doing near the lake anyway?"
"Isn’t she a werewolf?"
"You idiot, Sirene’s ancient. That lake’s her territory. Even a Lycan wouldn’t stand a chance if she felt playful."
"Unfortunate, really. Put it down to terrible luck."
I lowered my head, wishing desperately that my hair were long enough to hide behind.
I hadn’t wanted attention. Certainly not this kind. I just wanted to survive my first week without becoming an infamous story.
Jay, meanwhile, was still laughing, bright tears shimmering in the corners of his crimson-rimmed eyes.
Eventually he wiped them away, sighing dramatically as if recovering from a performance.
"Oh, honey, I’m sorry," he said, though his grin betrayed him. "Truly. I didn’t mean to laugh at your misery. It’s just—of all the students here, you are the one who got pranked on the first day. And now, look at fate! You’re seating beside me of all people. Isn’t that the grandest coincidence?"
"Right... a coincidence."
I slumped back into my seat. My energy was already drained, and the morning had only just begun.
If this was the start, then surely I was destined to be the quiet, awkward outcast of this entire section—a girl whispered about, side-eyed, pitied, and laughed at without even knowing why her presence irritated fate so much.
Jay hummed sympathetically, as though he could hear the exhaustion leaking from my soul.
"Oh, sweetie, don’t look so tragic. You’ll wrinkle. And you don’t want wrinkles at your age." Then he leaned closer, lowering his voice to something almost conspiratorial. "Besides, the Academy is built on drama. You’ll fit right in."
His words were ridiculous—but strangely comforting.
Before I could answer, someone else entered the room.
A hush fell so abruptly that the air seemed to thicken. Chairs stilled. Conversations died mid-sentence. Even Jay straightened subtly, the playful sparkle in his eyes dimming.
The teacher had arrived.
