Page 132 of Academy of the Wicked, Year One

The first bite nearly makes me moan — though after recent activities, I manage to contain my enthusiasm to merely appreciative humming.

The coffee proves equally perfect, the rich aroma alone helping to clear some of the pleasant fog from my mind.

The domestic nature of the scene strikes me suddenly.

Here I sit, sharing breakfast with beings of incredible power, all of them concerned with my proper nutrition. It's so far from what I expected when I first scaled these walls that I almost want to laugh.

Instead, I focus on eating, aware of their collective gazes monitoring my progress.

The food disappears quickly, my body apparently more than ready for actual sustenance after surviving on adrenaline and determination for so long.

Between bites, I can't help sneaking glances at them all — Mortimer with his barely concealed eagerness to share knowledge, Cassius's shadows betraying his continued concern despite his neutral expression, and Nikolai...

Nikolai watching me with that intensity that makes heat pool low in my belly, despite having thoroughly satisfied similar heat mere moments ago.

The mark on my chest pulses warmly as if agreeing with my body's continued interest.

Focus on breakfast, I remind myself sternly.Classes and training fields await.

Though, given how time moves here, who knows how long we actually have before facing those particular challenges?

"Why do you call yourself a hybrid?" Nikolai asks suddenly, his golden eyes studying me with careful intensity. "You're a vampire with magical essence, but you speak of it as if it's something more complex."

I pause with my fork halfway to my mouth, considering the question.

After a moment, I shrug.

"I guess I use the term because that's what the village always called me. It just... stuck."

"Elaborate," Mortimer prompts, his academic curiosity clearly piqued.

I finish my final bite, buying time as I settle back in my chair.

The memories I'm about to revisit aren't particularly pleasant, but something about this moment — surrounded bythese powerful beings who've somehow become important to me— makes sharing feel less daunting.

"We were born in a small village," I begin carefully, "one that feared anything different. My parents weren't exactly the approved sort of couple that people blessed at festivals."

A bitter smile tugs at my lips.

"They weren't really accepted anywhere they went, despite their positions of power. They never stayed in one place long, but when my sister and I were born..."

I trail off, the weight of old pain making my throat tight.

The image of Elena in her hospital bed, fading away day by day, threatens to overwhelm me. I push it aside, unwilling to dive too deeply into those particular waters.

You need to blend in this infiltrated fortress until another opportunity comes along where you can explore these walls for the chalice.

The self-talk helps me feel less dreadful about it.

"My magical abilities manifested very early," I continue instead, focusing on facts rather than emotion. "But it was the vampire side that made me appear...odd."

I search for words to explain it properly.

"Vampire children are less expressive by nature. We prefer observation, solitude. It's not that I didn't want friends…it's just how we are."

Another shrug, this one almost defensive.

"The village labeled me as a hybrid, and it stuck. Whether it's technically accurate or not doesn't really matter to me anymore."

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