It was Monday morning at Blackmoore Academy, a private school so fancy the doorknobs probably had diplomas. Girls wore pleated skirts, boys wore ties like they were born with them, and the halls smelled like expensive perfume and secrets.
And then there was Luna Quinn.
Known for:
●Getting into detention for "accidentally" setting off the fire alarm (again).
●Having a thing for vampire romance novels and sneaking garlic into her bag "just in case."
●Giving zero flips about the school's fake posh drama, but somehow always being in the middle of it.
She slammed her locker shut, earbuds in, humming Taylor Swift's Haunted like she was the main character (because duh, she was).
That's when the whispers started.
"Have you seen the new guy?"
"He's literally a Greek god with a jawline sharper than my dad's credit limit."
"He looked at me and I almost combusted."
Luna rolled her eyes. "Another cocky jock? Hard pass."
And then… she saw him.
Riven Hale.
He walked in like he owned the oxygen in the room. Black hair. Pale skin. Dark eyes that looked… too old for someone their age. His blazer fit like it had been stitched by angels. He didn't smile. He didn't speak. But every step he took made the hallway feel colder. Like the air itself was holding its breath.
And then—plot twist—he sat down right beside her in Advanced Lit.
"New seating chart," the teacher said, sounding bored. "Luna, meet Riven. You'll be partners for the semester."
She blinked. "Wait, what?"
He turned to her slowly, his eyes locking onto hers.
"Hi, Luna," he said, voice deep, silky, and somehow… ancient.
Her brain: System error. Reboot required.
Her mouth: "Do you like... garlic bread?"
A pause. His lips curled into the tiniest smirk. "Not really."
She felt her stomach drop.
Oh crap.
He's hot.
He's weird.
He's definitely not human.
And she was so in trouble.