Bloodlines of the Damned

The First Encounter

The prestigious Valerian Academy-a gothic, centuries-old school that trains both vampires and humans in the art of controlling their abilities. The campus is large, with towering stone buildings, labyrinthine hallways, and courtyards that bathe in an eerie twilight. Students attend classes here, with the elites of the vampire world in power, but there's an undercurrent of tension between purebloods and half-bloods, especially those of low standing like Lyra.

POV: Vane's perspective

Vane walked down the cobblestone pathway, his boots clicking with a rhythm as natural as breathing. He had been at Valerian Academy for two years now, and as a purebred vampire, life here was simple. Power, status, and control were the currency of the elite, and his bloodline was one of the oldest. His dark eyes scanned the horizon, irritated by the buzz of chatter from the groups of students lounging by the courtyard.

His usual annoyance for the lower-tier students-those who didn't have his level of power-grew when his gaze fell on a girl sitting alone on one of the stone benches. She was an outcast, clearly different. Her raven-black hair fell over her shoulders, and her sharp green eyes glanced around nervously, as if always aware of the danger in the air.

Half-bloods, Vane thought with distaste. They never know their place.

But there was something about her-Lyra-that was different from the others. He'd seen her before, always alone, always avoiding confrontation. She wasn't like the other half-bloods who had the nerve to act like they belonged here. She was meek, quiet.

Before he could stop himself, he found his feet carrying him closer to her.

Lyra's POV

Lyra hunched over slightly on the stone bench, pulling her coat tighter around her shoulders. The chill in the air made her shiver, but it wasn't just the weather that made her uneasy. It was the group of campus elites nearby, laughing loudly, pointing at her in the cruel way they always did. They were always watching her-whispering when she passed by, calling her filthy half-blood behind her back.

She pulled her hood lower, trying to remain invisible, but it was hard. Everything about this place made her feel small. Even the way the purebloods looked at her was enough to make her want to crawl into a hole.

Just as she was about to get up and leave, footsteps interrupted her thoughts.

A shadow loomed over her, tall and imposing. Lyra looked up, meeting the gaze of none other than Vane, one of the most powerful purebloods at the academy. His intense dark eyes studied her with a cold curiosity, but she couldn't read him. Most vampires like him didn't care about half-bloods, especially those like her. So why was he standing there?

"Is this seat taken?" His voice was smooth, but his words hung in the air like a challenge.

Lyra blinked, caught off guard. She instinctively stood up. "I-I-"

He tilted his head slightly, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Relax. I'm not here to bite you."

The casual mention of biting made Lyra freeze, her pulse quickening.

"Not everyone in the academy is as..." He paused, scanning her from head to toe with a faint look of distaste. "... interested in making your life miserable."

She stared at him, unsure if she should trust his words. Purebloods didn't talk to half-bloods like this. Not unless they wanted something.

"Vane." He introduced himself as if she didn't know who he was, his gaze never leaving her. "I couldn't help but notice the way the others treat you."

Lyra's cheeks flushed, but she quickly averted her eyes. "I can handle it."

"You don't look like you can," he said, his voice softening just a touch. "It's... not easy being at the bottom, is it?"

The words struck her in a way she didn't expect. For a second, she felt something warm in her chest, a flicker of hope. But then she remembered who he was-Vane, the purebred vampire, whose family had been among the ruling class for centuries. He had no idea what it was like to be different, to be less than.

A loud, high-pitched laugh from a group of girls interrupted her thoughts.

"Look, it's half-blood Lyra," one of the girls from the elite clique, Selena, sneered from a distance, her voice dripping with venom.

"Did you come here to beg for a drop of blood, Lyra?" another girl, Ariana, chimed in, snickering with her friends.

Vane's eyes narrowed, and he stepped closer to Lyra, standing protectively in front of her, blocking her from their view.

"Do they always talk to you like this?" he asked quietly, though the tension in his voice was unmistakable.

Lyra shook her head. "They're just... jealous."

"Jealous?" Vane raised an eyebrow. "Of you?"

She could hear the disbelief in his voice, and for the first time, a flicker of anger sparked in her chest. "Yes, of me!" she snapped, stepping out from behind him. "Why wouldn't they be? You all think we don't deserve to be here. You-you-are the ones who put us at the bottom of the hierarchy!"

There was a long pause, and Vane didn't seem to know how to respond at first. The purebloods had been raised to believe in the natural order of things, where bloodline dictated value. But Lyra's words-her quiet defiance-shifted something inside of him. He was used to seeing half-bloods cower or beg for favor, but she didn't. She fought back.

"Fine." Vane said suddenly, his voice cold but decisive. "I'll take care of them."

"What?" Lyra stared at him, startled by his sudden offer. "What are you-?"

Before she could finish, Vane turned around with a flick of his wrist, addressing Selena and her group with a look of utter disdain. "Selena. Ariana." His voice was sharp, commanding. "If you ever speak to her like that again, I will make sure your bloodlines are... reconsidered."

The girls blinked, clearly caught off-guard by the pureblood's sudden intervention. Selena opened her mouth to protest, but the venom in Vane's eyes made her hesitate. She faltered for a moment, before retreating with her friends, muttering curses under their breath.

Lyra's POV (after the encounter)

Lyra watched as the elite girls walked away, their proud postures crumpling in the face of Vane's authority. She felt a strange mixture of gratitude and confusion. Why did he help me? It wasn't like him. Vampires like him didn't associate with half-bloods.

"Why did you do that?" she finally asked, her voice still shaky.

Vane turned to her, his expression unreadable. "I don't like bullies." He paused, his gaze softening just a fraction. "And maybe... you're not as weak as you think."