Chapter 14

Instincts

A group of students rushed past, whispering excitedly, their steps quick and chaotic, like startled birds. The sudden shift in energy around him made Raphael glance up, but it was Liam who froze first, his eyes locked on something just beyond Raphael’s shoulder.

– Uh-oh – Liam muttered, almost to himself, a warning more than a word.

Kael’s face went pale, the colour draining like a curtain falling. Melody’s smile faded so fast it was as if it had never been there. Raphael’s pulse quickened. He turned, tension tightening in his chest, his senses sharpened.

At the entrance of the courtyard stood a tall, commanding figure. His presence alone shifted the atmosphere, stilling the murmur of students nearby. Long silver hair framed a face carved with ageless elegance, and his ice-blue eyes — glacial, piercing — swept over the crowd with quiet authority. He wore an immaculate suit that shimmered subtly with each movement, catching the sunlight like woven starlight. And as he moved forward, the students instinctively parted before him, like water yielding to a stone cast into its midst.

His gaze never wavered. It was fixed on Raphael.

Raphael leaned slightly toward Liam, his voice low, edged with unease.

– Who’s that?

Liam drew closer, his breath brushing Raphael’s ear as he whispered.

– That’s Headmaster Alexander. He’s not just any supernatural being…

Kael’s voice joined in, barely audible, laced with weight.

– He’s an ancient vampire, one of the most powerful in existence. And he rarely involves himself directly…

Melody, unusually serious, added her voice to the soft chorus.

– He’s only here for one reason…

Raphael’s eyes didn’t leave the man approaching him. The air felt heavier, charged with something unsaid.

– Which is? – he asked, voice tight.

Liam swallowed visibly, tension rippling through his jaw as his eyes flitted between Raphael and the headmaster, who was closing the distance with quiet intensity.

– He’s here because of your fight with Ethan. Word spreads fast… especially about new students with… impressive abilities.

Kael nodded grimly, his expression unreadable.

– Headmaster Alexander wants to see for himself what you’re capable of.

Raphael exhaled slowly.

– Another… – he murmured, not sure if he meant another challenge, another test, or another predator drawn to the scent of his newly uncovered power.

The Headmaster stopped a few feet away from him, his tall frame casting a faint shadow in the sun-drenched courtyard. His eyes travelled slowly, deliberately over Raphael’s body, not with lust, but with something far more unsettling — scrutiny. Calculation. Like a chess master studying a piece that hadn’t yet revealed its potential.

He was breathtaking — the kind of beauty that came with centuries, polished and deadly. And the aura he carried wasn’t just power. It was dominance. Ancient, refined, absolute. Around them, silence fell like a veil. Even the breeze seemed to hesitate.

Finally, his gaze locked with Raphael’s, and a faint, curious lift touched his brow.

– Raphael – he said, the name rolling off his tongue like a puzzle he was beginning to solve. – Care to show me what you did to scare the hell out of Ethan Blackwood?

Raphael met his gaze evenly, chin lifting just slightly.

– I would like to know myself.

The Headmaster chuckled — a low, surprisingly warm sound that contrasted with his icy aura.

– A humble response. I like that.

He stepped closer, his movements fluid, almost feline, yet with the underlying tension of a predator who never forgets his strength.

– Then let’s find out together, shall we? Ethan claims you moved faster than his werewolf reflexes could track.

Raphael didn’t look away.

– I wasn’t thinking what I was doing.

A flicker of intrigue crossed the Headmaster’s face, subtle but unmistakable.

– Not thinking, you say?

His hand lifted, elegant and precise, and with one finger he tilted Raphael’s chin upward, angling his face into the light. The gesture was gentle — but beneath it, Raphael felt the unspoken power, the inescapable pressure of being observed, dissected, measured.

– Most students who come here are aware of their abilities, whether they control them well or not. But you… you’re different.

Raphael’s mouth curled faintly, almost a smirk.

– I hear that a lot.

Headmaster Alexander let out a sharp, unexpected bark of laughter. It wasn’t mocking — it was genuine amusement, resonant and deep, echoing for a moment in the courtyard like a sound that didn’t quite belong to this world.

– Humility and a sense of humour. Fascinating.

He took a deliberate step back, folding his arms across his broad chest with the casual authority of someone long accustomed to command. The movement seemed effortless, but the energy that radiated from him was anything but.

– Well, Raphael, it seems you have a talent for impressing people without even trying.

– True – Raphael replied with a trace of wryness, though he wasn’t entirely sure where the words had come from. Something about Alexander’s presence made honesty easier — or perhaps made resistance feel futile.

The Headmaster’s lips curled into a smile, one that was both charming and cryptic, as though he knew far more than he was letting on. Then, without ceremony, he extended his hand toward Raphael.

– Come with me.

It wasn’t a request. It was a command — soft-spoken, but absolute. And Raphael felt the weight of it resonate through him, like a silent chord being struck inside his chest.

Without waiting for a response, Alexander turned and began walking across the courtyard.

The crowd responded instantly. Students stepped back, their movements automatic, reverent. His presence alone carved a path through the courtyard, no words needed. Raphael followed him, matching his pace. Each step drew the attention of dozens of eyes, and though no one spoke aloud, whispers rose like leaves catching in the wind — hushed, restless, awed.

The transition from brightly lighted training room to the shadows of the main building was sudden and strangely intimate. Stone walls swallowed the outside noise, replacing it with the soft echo of footsteps on polished floors. The air inside was cool, tinged with the scent of old stone and something subtler — magic, perhaps, or age itself.

They walked in silence down a long corridor lined with portraits. The painted eyes of ancient supernatural figures seemed to track their passage with lifeless intensity. Raphael tried not to meet their gazes, but he could feel them — heavy and expectant.

Then, finally, Alexander stopped in front of a tall wooden door. Its surface was covered in ornate carvings that twisted and coiled like living script. The symbols were unfamiliar, yet something about them stirred in Raphael’s gut — a flicker of something unspoken, on the edge of memory.

Without hesitation, Alexander opened the door and stepped aside, gesturing inward with a simple tilt of his head.

Raphael stepped through the threshold.

The room that greeted him was quiet and vast, cloaked in a restrained elegance. One wall was entirely lined with towering bookshelves, their contents dark and heavy with age. Another wall opened into a floor-to-ceiling window that bathed the room in a surreal golden light, filtered through the magical lanterns hovering in the air outside. The glow cast long, soft shadows across the wooden floor, highlighting the delicate carvings on the furniture, the deep richness of the mahogany desk.

It felt like stepping into another world — or a part of this one that refused to change with time.

Headmaster Alexander entered after him, the door clicking shut with an almost reverent quiet. Raphael turned to watch him move — precise, fluid — until he reached the desk. But he didn’t sit. He leaned against the edge with practiced ease, arms relaxed at his sides, gaze fixed and unwavering.

– Why am I here? – Raphael asked, his voice calm but edged with firm curiosity.

Alexander regarded him for a moment, his posture relaxed but radiating a controlled intensity.

– You’re here because, Raphael, I think you may be the most interesting student this school has seen in a very long time.

– I’m listening – Raphael said, his gaze steady.

The Headmaster’s eyes gleamed with something that hovered between curiosity and something deeper, more shadowed.

– Your abilities are… unique. Uncategorized, even. You move faster than a majority of students, your strength seems almost matching that of a werewolf in their prime, and Ethan swears you have some kind of aura that made him feel… uncomfortable.

He paused, allowing the words to settle. The silence that followed wasn’t empty — it was charged, coiled.

His gaze sharpened.

– Ethan also mentioned that you don’t seem to have a recognizable scent. Not even a faint human one. You’re not a werewolf, vampire, witch…

– As far as I know, it might be true – Raphael said slowly, choosing each word with care. – Although… on our first meeting in Whispering Woods, Kael said that I have a very unique scent.

The Headmaster’s eyebrows lifted in visible surprise, and for the first time, his expression cracked into something more human — curiosity laced with intrigue.

– Kael said that?

He brought a hand to his chin, stroking it slowly, as if tasting the implications of that single sentence.

– Kael has a keen sense of smell; if he noticed something unique about you, then there’s definitely something special going on.

He leaned forward slightly, the air between them growing heavier, his gaze narrowing with renewed focus.

– And he also said something about a prophecy and stories – Raphael said quietly, his words hanging in the stillness of the office like echoes from a place older than time.

Headmaster Alexander’s eyes widened — just for a fraction of a second — before his expression smoothed into a mask of composed curiosity. But Raphael saw the shift. The sudden, involuntary flicker of recognition couldn’t be hidden from someone who had learned to read silence.

– The prophecy… – the Headmaster murmured, almost under his breath, as if tasting the word with suspicion and awe alike. His gaze drifted for a moment, no longer seeing the present room but something far more distant. – Kael was referring to the ancient prophecy about a creature that would unify all supernatural beings, wasn’t he?

– Yes – Raphael said simply, though he could feel a weight beginning to settle in his chest. Like something vast had just shifted direction.

The Headmaster straightened. He wasn’t merely attentive now — he was fully alert, his presence charged with a quiet intensity.

– Raphael, if you are indeed the creature from that prophecy, it could change the course of supernatural history.

His words carried no exaggeration. They didn’t need to. The gravity in his voice was enough to press the truth into the space between them.

– But before we jump to any conclusions – he continued, his tone regaining that precise calm – I want you to undergo some tests. Nothing invasive, just methods we’ve used over centuries to better understand the nature of unique abilities. It may help us — and you — see more clearly.

– I fully agree. Thank you – Raphael answered, meaning it. The idea of clarity was strangely comforting, even if the path to it might be more tangled than he realized.

Alexander nodded, visibly pleased by the response.

– Very well. I’ll arrange for the tests to be done as soon as possible. In the meantime, you’ll be staying in the VIP dormitory, reserved for only the most exceptional students.

He turned to his desk, opened a drawer, and retrieved a small black keycard. The polished surface reflected the ambient glow from the window, a quiet symbol of status and separation.

Raphael hesitated. The offer wasn’t offensive — it was generous, even thoughtful. But something in him recoiled at the thought of being removed, elevated above the others like a symbol instead of a person.

– Sir – he began carefully – may I ask you not to move me to the VIP dormitory? I know I’m different. But I don’t feel any better than the others. So I would prefer to stay in my room, if it’s not a problem.

Alexander paused. His brows drew together, just slightly, not in disapproval, but reflection. Then, slowly, he nodded.

– Very well, Raphael. I admire your humility.

There was a subtle shift in his tone now — not formality, but something more personal. Approval, perhaps. Or something approaching respect.

He handed Raphael the keycard anyway, placing it gently on the desk in front of him.

– But keep this just in case.

– Thank you – Raphael said, taking it and sliding it into his pocket without ceremony.

The Headmaster didn’t move. He watched Raphael with an unreadable expression as he turned and walked to the door. When it closed behind him with a soft but final click, Alexander remained still for several seconds, his thoughts turning inward.

Then he reached for his phone.

His fingers tapped out a short message.

He refused the VIP dormitory. Humble. Interesting.

He set the device aside, then leaned back in his chair with a low exhale. The smile that touched his lips was subtle, thoughtful.

Not just for the student who had left — but for the unknown he represented.

He picked up a pen and opened a folder labelled with a single name: Raphael.

Carefully, in precise, deliberate strokes, he wrote:

Uncategorized. Unique scent. Potentially prophetic figure.

The words remained there, sharp against the page. Notes for now — and for what was to come.

Suddenly his phone buzzed softly on the desk. He picked it up and answered, his tone low and measured.

– Did you get the message?

A pause.

– That’s right. He didn’t take the bait.

Another silence.

– Yes, the room was fully prepared…

His voice lowered slightly, thoughtful.

– But he took the key, so let’s hope he gives in. It would make it easier — not just to study him, but to stay informed. Maybe even maintain a bit of control.

Another pause.

– Alright. I’ll prepare the basic tests.

– Good.

He ended the call without another word and set the phone back down on the desk.

Meanwhile, Raphael returned to his room, his thoughts swirling chaotically in his mind. He moved like in a trance, preparing for bed without really thinking about each action. But once he lay down, sleep wouldn’t come.

Scenes flashed before his eyes — everything that had happened since he arrived at the Academy. There had been so much, and not a single moment to process it all. He tossed and turned in his bed, but rest continued to elude him. And on top of it all, he felt a powerful physical arousal, though he couldn’t pinpoint why.

Guess I’m not getting any sleep tonight, he thought.

He got up, put on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, and left the room. Still lost in thought, he exited the building and crossed the nearby park. It took a while before he realized where his steps were taking him — closer and closer to Whispering Woods.

The forest, bathed in moonlight, looked even more mysterious than during the day. But it didn’t frighten him. On the contrary — he felt as though it was calling to him, inviting him in. He walked aimlessly, down winding paths that were barely visible. Somehow, he wasn’t afraid of getting lost. The whispers and night sounds of the woods didn’t stir fear in him. Quite the opposite.

Something about it all… felt like belonging. Like being welcomed home after a long absence. It was surreal.

Wandering between the trees, he eventually found himself in a small clearing he had never seen before. He leaned against a nearby tree, breathing deeply, hoping the overwhelming arousal would finally subside. But despite his efforts, he not only felt it — he saw it. The bulge in his shorts continued to grow.

At last, he couldn’t take it anymore. He pushed his shorts down. Embarrassment tingled at the edge of his thoughts, but the urge was stronger than shame. He stepped into the middle of the clearing and began to touch himself with intensity. The moonlight lit up his face, casting his features in the glow of rising pleasure. He felt eyes on him — unseen watchers from the woods — but instead of making him shy, it only turned him on even more.

His movements became faster, more desperate. And finally, with a moan of pleasure, he came — his release spraying the moss below in thick, hot streams.

Relief washed over him at last.

He pulled his shorts back on and began to walk back toward the school. His pulse was slowing, the tension gradually leaving his body. He didn’t know why, but he felt like he was walking in the right direction.

Eventually, the trees began to thin.

And then he heard it — a whisper. Barely audible, right on the edge of hearing, so faint it could have been mistaken for the rustling of leaves:

“The seed has been planted.”

After returning to his room, he took a quick shower and lay down. He managed to fall asleep rather quickly, and for the first time in a long while, he slept peacefully — undisturbed by any troubling dreams.

xxx

After the fight, Ethan returned to his room. He was a bit dazed. He didn’t really know what had just happened. The absurdity of the whole situation was throwing him off balance. From the very moment he met that new guy, something had gotten into him.

It wasn’t like him to challenge every new student. He had nothing to prove — not to himself, and not to anyone else. He was beyond that. And yet, something about that new one had gotten under his skin. Raphael hadn’t been rude or provocative, and still… Maybe it was the fact that ever since he’d arrived, Ethan had been hearing his name far too often.

But that probably wasn’t it. There was another pack at the school — Alex’s — and Ethan had no issue accepting another Alpha on campus. So what was it?

Maybe it was that strange scent of his. Barely noticeable, yet unlike anything he had ever encountered before.

Whatever it was, it had made him throw down the challenge. And the guy had accepted.

To be honest, Ethan had thought it would all be over quickly. He was even a bit worried he might accidentally hurt him. He’d planned to go easy. That was the plan — until Raphael actually showed up. And then again, something stirred inside him, and it only took a spark for Ethan to launch his attack.

Luckily, it turned out that fighting wasn’t something new for Raphael. Everything had seemed under control. Ethan would probably have won, but Raphael still would have come out with his head held high — and earned respect.

Would have… And then everything changed.

Ethan had never seen anything like it before. He’d talked to others afterward, but… yeah. No one was entirely sure what they’d seen. That glow — though some claimed it was just a trick of the light. And the way Raphael suddenly appeared right next to him. It looked like he’d floated off the ground and glided toward Ethan, though others insisted he’d just sprinted or leapt.

And Ethan was convinced he’d seen fangs. And claws. And no one was going to tell him that fear had paralyzed him. It had to be a compelling voice. He was sure of it. But how could someone like Raphael possibly know how to use it? When he was warned about it, it was always said to be a skill specific to vampires.

None of it made sense.

Back in his room, Ethan took a very hot shower. He loved the feeling of hot water caressing his body. The moment the stream hit his skin, it enveloped him completely — a rush of heat that dulled his thoughts and soothed his nerves.

Contrary to what one might think, it didn’t energize him — it calmed him. The hiss of water against tile, the steam rising in waves around him, the way droplets traced the contours of his muscles — it was like a ritual. He let his head fall back, letting the water run through his hair, over his face, down his chest.

He watched the rising steam run down his skin, highlighting every sculpted muscle and washing away the last memories of the fight. The scent of his body wash — earthy, masculine, with a hint of cedar — mixed with the warmth in the air, cocooning him in a sensory haze.

And then, unexpectedly, he saw them in his mind — those piercing, intensely blue eyes. His eyes. Raphael’s.

What the hell? Where did that thought come from?

He felt the memory of that stare burrow into his core, stirring something deep in his soul. And soon, he realized it wasn’t just his soul that had been stirred.

What? Why am I reacting like this to him? Sure, he’s handsome, but come on!

He cranked up the water temperature until it was almost scalding. The sudden sting against his skin forced a breath out of him. It helped a little.

He stepped out of the shower and started drying off, admiring his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His tanned skin, slightly flushed from the heat, looked beautiful. Droplets still clung to his shoulders and slid slowly down his torso. He liked looking at himself in the mirror. It wasn’t vanity — not really. He was simply proud of what he’d built, of the effort he’d put into his body.

He lay down in bed. Just before drifting off to sleep, he saw them again.

His eyes.

They were with him as he slipped into dreams.