Chapter 10

Ethan

Morning arrived too harshly.

The alarm clock shattered the silence, blaring into the dim room like a siren. Raphael groaned, eyes still closed as he reached blindly to silence it. His muscles protested as he stretched, the familiar ache of transformation lingering beneath the surface — a quiet reminder of what he was becoming.

He lay still for a moment, staring at the ceiling, the morning light slowly claiming the edges of the room. His body was warm beneath the sheets, but it wasn’t the temperature that made his skin hum.

Memories from the previous night stirred like smoke — fragmented and vivid all at once. The press of skin, the tangled rhythm of breath and movement, the way bodies had melted into each other without hesitation. Fingers. Mouths. A moment that had burned too brightly to question.

What the hell got into me…?

His lips parted slightly, breath catching at the rawness of it. The way he had given in — completely, urgently. There had been no filter, no second-guessing, just a hunger that had taken over and left him breathless in its wake.

It wasn’t like him. At least… it hadn’t been.

He had always been more careful. More measured. Spontaneous hookups — especially with someone so new, so mysterious — had never been his habit. Desire had come and gone in his life like the occasional storm, not like this raging, unstoppable tide.

This isn’t me. Or… is it?

He closed his eyes, letting the echo of the night wash over him again — not just the pleasure, but the confusion that lingered afterward. There was something deeper tangled in it, something unspoken that made his chest tighten.

And he didn’t know yet if it thrilled him, or terrified him.

The need to ground himself became overwhelming.

Raphael slid out of bed, the cool air brushing over his bare skin as he crossed the room. His steps were slow, deliberate, as if each one helped him pull away from the fire still smoldering in his chest.

In the bathroom, he turned the handle sharply and stepped under the spray without waiting for it to warm. The first contact of cold water hit him like a shock — sharp, bracing, real.

He closed his eyes and let it run over him.

The chill crawled down his spine, washing over flushed skin and clouded thoughts. Each drop carved away the haze of memory, though not completely. The heat from the night lingered in his muscles, in the phantom touch still alive beneath the surface.

Breathe. Let it go.

He tilted his head back, letting the stream cascade down his face, his breath steadying little by little. It wasn’t about regret — no, not that. But clarity was something he craved now more than ever.

And under the cold water, with steam rising faintly around him, he searched for it in silence.

He stepped out of the shower, water still clinging to his skin in slow rivulets. Grabbing a towel, he dried off briskly, then dressed in silence, each movement methodical — a quiet armour for the day ahead.

Then — a sudden knock at the door.

– Yes? – he called, blinking toward the sound.

The door creaked open on its hinges. Kael’s head appeared in the gap, his expression unreadable but serious. A different kind of tension entered the room, subtle but unmistakable.

– Morning – Kael said, voice calm, but without its usual ease.

He stepped aside, revealing Liam behind him, who mirrored his seriousness.

Raphael straightened.

– Hello, guys. What’s going on?

Liam exchanged a tense glance with Kael before stepping into the room. The way he moved — the tightness in his shoulders, the deliberate calm in his voice — set Raphael further on edge.

– We have a situation – Liam began, his tone low and urgent. – Rumors are spreading like wildfire. About last night.

Raphael’s stomach tightened. His breath caught, just for a second.

Kael leaned against the door frame, arms crossing as he watched Raphael carefully.

– Someone might have seen your wings.

A cold knot formed in Raphael’s chest.

– When? Where?

Liam ran a hand through his tousled hair, his nervousness plain now, despite the effort to stay composed.

– In the corridor near the cafeteria, just after midnight. Seems one of the janitorial staff was working late and spotted something “shimmering” and “otherworldly.”

Kael smirked slightly, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

– Their words, not ours.

– Shit – Raphael muttered, raking a hand through his own hair now, tension buzzing in his fingertips. – It must have been through the window. What now?

Kael pushed off the doorframe, stepping into the room with slow deliberation. His expression shifted — less concerned now, more calculating.

– Now, we need to figure out how to handle this before it gets out of hand. The last thing we need is every supernatural creature in school thinking you’re some kind of angel or god.

There was something unnervingly casual in how he said it, but Raphael knew the truth behind the joke — it wasn’t funny. Not really.

Liam nodded in agreement, his jaw tight.

– Right.

Raphael exhaled slowly, letting his hand fall to his stomach as if grounding himself.

– Ok. We’ll find a way to deal with it. But now I’m quite hungry.

Kael laughed, a sudden release of tension that made the air feel a little lighter.

– Typical – he said with a grin. – Even in the middle of a crisis, all you care about is food.

Liam chuckled too, his posture easing as he shook his head.

– Come on, let’s grab breakfast before the cafeteria gets crowded.

– Maybe this time you could walk me there. Better not teleporting now – Raphael said, already stepping toward his shoes.

– Smart thinking – Kael replied, lowering his voice to a whisper. – Wouldn’t want any more witness sightings.

Liam extended his elbow in exaggerated formality.

– Milady, would you do us the honour?

They both grinned, the contrast between their mock-elegance and the tension just moments earlier drawing a quiet laugh from Raphael.

– I think I showed you last evening that I’m man enough to not be called milady.

Kael chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement, the morning light catching in their amber hue like fire beneath the surface.

– Oh, we know you’re man enough – he teased, a playful smirk curling his lips as he shot Raphael a wink that lingered just a second longer than necessary.

Liam’s soft laugh followed, warm and easy.

– But it’s fun to mess with you.

There was a natural rhythm between them now, as if teasing Raphael was a game they both enjoyed — one that held no malice, only a comfortable, growing familiarity. Without hesitation, Liam reached out and took Raphael’s hand, his grip gentle but firm, the touch sending a quiet pulse of warmth up Raphael’s arm.

He let himself be led without protest, glancing over his shoulder briefly as Kael fell into step behind them, close enough that Raphael could feel the quiet stir of his presence — a shadow that stayed just within reach. Kael’s hand brushed against his as they walked, fingers grazing lightly in a fleeting, ambiguous gesture that could’ve meant nothing. Or everything.

– Could we pass through the office so I could collect the map finally? – Raphael asked, his voice calm but with a trace of intention behind it. He was tired of wandering the halls with only memory and instinct as his guides.

– Sure thing – Liam said with a smile, easily adjusting their path toward the administrative wing.

The corridors of Amaltea stretched before them in elegant silence, the air still carrying the crispness of early morning. Sunlight poured in through high-arched windows, casting elongated shadows on the polished stone. Their footsteps echoed softly between the ancient walls, adding a gentle rhythm to their quiet procession.

As they neared the office, the familiar scent of parchment and ink welcomed them like a library’s breath. Behind a wide wooden desk, surrounded by tidy stacks of folders and paper, sat Ms. Harper. She looked up as they entered, her eyes bright with recognition, her expression full of warmth.

– Good morning! – she greeted cheerfully, her voice lifting into the room like a pleasant breeze.

– Good morning – Raphael replied, nodding respectfully. – Could I receive some map of the school and surrounding? And maybe a plan of possible classes and workshops?

Ms. Harper’s face lit up with purpose.

– Of course! I have just the thing for you.

She opened a drawer and began to search through its contents with methodical precision. The gentle clinking of items, the soft shuffle of paper — it all added to the comforting ambiance of the space. Finally, she drew out a large, beautifully illustrated map, filled with winding paths, buildings marked with fine calligraphy, and areas beyond the school grounds subtly shaded in watercolour tones.

Alongside it, she handed him a neatly folded pamphlet — a slim guide that hinted at an impressive variety of classes and workshops, each one offering a different path for students to explore.

– Here you go!

– Thank you very much – Raphael said as he accepted the materials, feeling their unexpected weight in his hands.

– You’re welcome, dear. Let me know if you need anything else – she added warmly, already returning to her paperwork with the content focus of someone who enjoyed the quiet order of her work.

Liam touched Raphael’s shoulder lightly, signalling it was time to go. They stepped out of the office once more, the door clicking softly shut behind them. Kael followed, his ever-present smirk dancing on his lips.

– See? That wasn’t so hard – Liam said teasingly, his tone light.

– Thanks – Raphael replied, a touch of amusement in his voice.

But the mood shifted instantly.

Kael stopped in his tracks without warning, his body tensing, head snapping sharply toward the far end of the corridor. His eyes narrowed as if focusing on something just out of sight, all trace of levity vanishing from his features.

– Shit – he muttered under his breath. – Company’s coming.

Raphael turned toward him, catching the sudden seriousness in Kael’s expression.

– What do you mean?

Kael gave a small nod, indicating the far end of the hallway.

– See for yourself.

Raphael followed his gaze.

A group of students had entered the corridor, their silhouettes framed against the morning light. There was movement and quiet laughter among them, but it was clear who the center of gravity was. At the front strode a tall, muscular figure — his presence commanding without effort. Dark hair framed his face in sharp, controlled lines, and his piercing blue eyes scanned the hallway with quiet confidence.

He was surrounded by others — students who walked a pace behind or beside him, their attention subtly drawn to him, their posture deferential. Admiration clung to them like a perfume.

But he wasn’t looking at them.

His gaze was locked on Raphael.

– Who’s he? Who are they? – Raphael asked, his voice low.

– That’s Ethan – Kael said quietly, his voice lowered as if invoking a name that carried weight. – He’s the captain of the school’s supernatural sports team and a bit of a legend around here.

Raphael kept his gaze steady on the tall figure in the distance. There was something in Ethan’s posture — something calculated and powerful — that demanded attention without ever needing to raise his voice.

Liam leaned in slightly, his breath warm near Raphael’s ear, his tone just above a whisper.

– And those are his friends — all powerful creatures in their own right. They’re all very popular and influential.

The group radiated presence, like the eye of a storm that bent the atmosphere around them. They walked with ease, but it was the kind of ease that came from confidence, not carelessness.

– And what species is he? – Raphael asked, eyes still on the leader.

– Werewolf – Kael replied. His voice remained even, but there was a subtle edge to it now. – One of the strongest in the school. And those with him are a mix — there’s a vampire, a few witches, a siren, and a couple of other shifters.

Even as Kael spoke, Ethan approached with deliberate steps, closing the distance like a predator claiming space. Then he stopped, directly in front of Raphael. His eyes, an icy shade of blue, locked onto him — not with aggression, but with something colder. Something watchful. Measuring.

– Hello – Raphael said, keeping his voice calm.

Ethan smirked, slow and deliberate, revealing just the hint of a fang. He began to circle Raphael, his movements fluid and quiet, his gaze never leaving him.

– New blood – he said slowly, tasting the words. – What’s your name?

Behind him, the others fanned out slightly, watching Raphael with curious eyes. Some glinted with amusement, others with suspicion. Their silence was not passive — it was charged, as if they were waiting for something to happen.

– And what are you?

The question hung in the air, sharp and direct.

– I think it’s only polite to introduce yourself first – Raphael answered, his voice steady, refusing to flinch.

Liam, as well as the major part of the group, held his breath.

Ethan raised an eyebrow, the smallest tilt of his head betraying his intrigue. Then, with a smoothness that seemed rehearsed, he extended his hand.

– Ethan – he said. – Ethan Blackwood.

The gesture was polite, but there was a current beneath it — the kind of subtle tension that made the air feel a little heavier. Around them, a few of Ethan’s friends exchanged glances. Smirks appeared here and there, like the quiet crackle before thunder.

Liam stepped closer to Raphael, not intrusively, but with enough presence to be felt. Kael didn’t move, but his eyes stayed on Ethan, unblinking, like a lion watching another step into his territory.

– I’m Raphael. Raphael Enan. – he said, taking Ethan’s hand. – Nice to meet you.

The handshake was brief, but Ethan’s grip was unyielding — not overtly aggressive, but far from casual.

– Raphael – he repeated, almost testing the name. – Never heard of you before. What’s your supernatural specialty?

The intensity in his gaze deepened. It was as though he were trying to see through Raphael’s skin, to pull answers from beneath the surface without needing to ask again.

– I’m still uncovering this. As you’ve noticed, I’m new here.

A slow, amused smile spread across Ethan’s lips. His fangs showed more clearly this time, not in threat, but in something that felt like curiosity tinged with challenge.

– Isn’t that convenient – he murmured, glancing sideways at his group.

The witch who stepped forward moved with quiet grace, her eyes glowing faintly — not with magic, but with the sharp gleam of intellect and fascination.

– Can you at least tell us your species? – she asked.

– No. But not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t know it yet – Raphael said plainly.

Ethan’s eyes narrowed just a touch, but his posture didn’t shift. If anything, his interest seemed to sharpen.

– A mystery – he said, the words drawn out like a thought spoken aloud. His voice dipped lower. – I like mysteries.

There was a subtle ripple among his followers — flickers of acknowledgment, small nods, glances that suggested Raphael’s honesty had, somehow, made an impression. It wasn’t submission they offered, but respect… or at least, curiosity.

Then the siren stepped forward.

Her presence was like warm silk — soft, smooth, impossible to ignore. Her hair fell in gentle waves around her shoulders, catching the light as she moved. Eyes like deep pools searched Raphael’s with open interest.

– I might be able to help – she said, her voice like a melody, each syllable resonating with almost unnatural charm. – I’m Melody, by the way.

Ethan remained still, but his gaze slid toward her, his expression unreadable.

– Thank you, Melody. It’s nice of you – Raphael replied.

Her smile was radiant, the kind that could make people lean closer without realizing.

– It’s no problem – she said softly. – I’d be happy to help you figure out what you are.

Then came a sound — quiet, but deliberate. A throat clearing.

Ethan’s presence snapped back into focus, drawing the entire group’s attention once more. The weight of his gaze settled firmly on Raphael again.

– Raphael – he said, his voice clipped and commanding now.

– Yes? – Raphael responded, his tone even.

Ethan’s eyes flashed, the sharp gleam of challenge igniting behind his icy gaze like lightning in a stormcloud.

– Come to the gym after school today – he said, his voice low and unmistakably deliberate. – I want to see what you’re made of.

The air shifted.

His companions stirred behind him — nodding, grinning, their excitement barely masked. A few exchanged eager glances, like spectators anticipating a hunt, drawn by the scent of competition. The tension was no longer silent; it pulsed around them, electric and tangible.

Melody, standing just off to the side, caught Raphael’s eye. Her soft, encouraging smile was a quiet contrast to the energy around her — a glimmer of support amid the growing storm. Meanwhile, beside him, both Liam and Kael remained still. Their expressions had hardened, unreadable but tight with concern.

– Sure – Raphael replied calmly, meeting Ethan’s challenge without flinching. – I’ll gladly find out that myself. So see you at the gym.

Ethan’s lips curved into a grin — slow, wicked, predatory. It was the kind of smile that carried more than amusement. It spoke of expectation… of danger. And of interest.

– Looking forward to it, Raphael.

He turned with effortless ease, every step smooth and controlled. His entourage followed like a living tide, shadows drawn to his gravity. Just before disappearing down the hallway, Melody glanced over her shoulder. Her gaze found Raphael’s again, and she winked — a quiet gesture, fleeting, but laced with unspoken meaning.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Liam reached for Raphael’s arm, pulling him slightly aside. His voice came in a sharp whisper, edged with disbelief.

– Raphael, do you have any idea what you just agreed to? Ethan is one of the strongest werewolves in the school. He’s a dominant Alpha, and he doesn’t lose.

Kael, silent up until now, nodded grimly, his posture rigid, gaze still fixed down the corridor Ethan had vanished into.

Raphael’s response came without hesitation.

– Doesn’t lose… yet.

The smirk that tugged at his lips was faint, but it sparked something. Liam and Kael exchanged another glance. There was still worry in their eyes — but beneath it, unmistakably, a glimmer of something else. Not quite certainty. But hope.