CHAPTER 2: SOUL SIGHT

The next morning, I didn’t make an effort to even look good.

I mean, why would I try? I don’t belong in this town.

After my usual morning warm bath, I threw on a plain sweatshirt and a pair of loose pants, then tied my hair up in a messy bun.

I stood facing the mirror.

The truth? I knew I could never really look bad, even if I tried.

My shiny, light brown hair, soft and wavy, didn’t know what a bad hair day was. And my almost pale skin was flawless, smooth, always caught attention, whether I wanted it or not.

Took a quick glance at the Daylight Amulet hanging around my neck.

I’d worn it all my life—a gift and a warning.

Apparently, vampires can’t survive the sun without it.

At least not the born ones like me — still bound by blood, not yet awakened enough to walk unprotected beneath the sky.

The amulet shimmered faintly, like it knew its importance. Like it enjoyed being the difference between burning alive and blending in.

Some of our kind refuse to wear one — call it weakness, only roam at night, or the moments just before sunrise.

Others say relying on an amulet means you’re not ready. Not complete.

I didn’t care. I liked the sun.

And I’m not ready to give it up just to prove something to people who thought their fangs made them wise.

The thought made me smile a little.

When I finished, Dad dropped me off in front of Ravenshollow High. I was never late for school, we didn’t sleep, so there was never even a chance to be late.

He turned off the ignition and turned to me.

“You have everything you need?” He asked, his voice was always low.

I nodded.

His face looked like he wanted to say more, but Dad’s never been much of a talker. That had always been Mom’s job.

He was a listener—the kind who spoke more with his eyes than his mouth.

But he was a good dad. Loyal. Quietly dependable. He never once complained about moving towns because of me. He did what needed to be done for us.

“Thanks, Dad,” I said softly.

He smiled and gave me a warm hug.

I stepped out of the car, and he drove off without another word.

I took a good look at the school building as I walked in; it looked decent.

The building looked clean. Red brick. Tall windows. Kind of ordinary.

But it made my stomach twist. My skin itched.

I didn’t want to be there—I won’t lie.

I had quite an urge to burn it down.

Unfamiliar faces threw glances at me as I walked. I didn’t care to read their expressions—although I knew most of them felt intimidated by how good the new girl actually looked.

It made me smirk.

It was finally time for the usual introduction at the front of the classroom.

I’ve always found this shit fucking dumb.

I thought to myself.

The teacher smiled at me, too bright, too curious. “Come on. Introduce yourself,”

I hated the faces I was seeing. Hated that I wasn’t standing in the front of my old classroom and that these weren’t my old classmates.

It made me feel alone.

I cleared my throat. “Hi, I’m Noah.”

For a second, silence.

Then the giggles and whispers started.

“Wait… Noah? That’s a guy’s name,” someone said, not even trying to hide it.

They laughed because of my name.

Because I didn’t fit into their stupid, predictable boxes.

“You’re dumb for saying that,” I snapped, voice sharp and bold.

The whispers increased, and the teacher gave a sign with her hand for them to stop.

Someone got up and spoke.

“Noah. The world will already try to soften you. Your name shouldn’t,” his voice, calm and clear.

At that moment, the world went silent,, and immediately I raised my head and met his eyes, I knew. He was one of us.

I didn't expect to meet one so fast.

He smiled at me and nodded. His blue eyes were beautiful and mysterious, they looked like they held something old behind them.

His skin was pale, but not sickly, and dark hair curled slightly over his forehead. And his jawline, sharp, defined, only made his smile more dangerous.

He looked like a vampire from an old Gothic painting. The kind that didn’t just drink blood, but stole souls with a single glance.

And for a second, I couldn’t look away.

The teacher wrapped up the awkward introduction and gestured toward an empty seat as she stepped out—of course, it was the seat just in front of him.

I walked to it without hesitation, but a flutter of nerves stirred in my chest. I made sure not to show it.

The moment I sat down, his voice followed, low and deliberate.

“Hey, you.”

I turned slightly. “Hi,” I said, keeping my tone flat. Uninterested.

“Beautiful amulet,” he murmured, leaning in just enough for his breath to brush the back of my neck.

It sent a chill through me—one I wasn’t expecting. Not fear. Something… else.

Before I could reply, he stretched his left hand forward, revealing a dark silver ring on his middle finger. A single deep-red gem sat in its center, like a quiet heartbeat.

“Mine was forged from the same stone,” he said. “Daylight-resistant. Old magic.”

I looked down at the ring, then at his face.

His face was calm, too calm. Like he already knew everything about me.

Then he said it.

“I won’t betray you like they did.”

My breath snagged in my throat, just slightly.

I narrowed my eyes. “You don’t know anything about me.”

He tilted his head, lips curving into a faint smile.

“Don’t I?”

There was something in his voice—certainty. Like he wasn’t guessing.

Although I’d never met one, I’d heard of some of us with the ability of reading people—their emotions, their intent, their lies.

The old ones called it ‘Soul Sight’.

Mom had told me never to let my guard down, especially around one who could read.

“Once they’re inside,” she’d said, “they don’t just see you. They own pieces of you.”

I swallowed hard and shifted in my seat, forcing my thoughts to quiet, to blur. That’s what she taught me—how to fog my mind, like a window in the rain.

“You’re shielding,” he said, leaning even closer from behind. “Smart. But exhausting, isn’t it?”

I said nothing. Silence was safer.

“I heard there’s a greeting at the House of Silence tonight,” he added. “Been curious about the new arrivals.”

Before I could respond—not that I intended to—the classroom door opened. A male teacher entered, cutting through the low chatter as the lecture began.

I assumed that would finally silence him.

Instead, he spoke again, quieter this time, like a secret only meant for me.

“I’m Sebastian. In case you were wondering.”

I turned halfway in my seat just enough to look at him over my shoulder

I tried my best to sound firm.

“I wasn’t,” I said sharply. “Class is starting. Try pretending to be human.”

Then I faced forward again.

He didn’t reply, but I felt a smirk behind me.