Nocturne Preparatory School

RAE

I hardly slept that night. I tried, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw Saraphina’s smile… or worse, the way Luna Celeste’s eyes had rolled back when she hit the floor. I lay on my cot in the servants’ quarters, listening to the muffled voices and creaking pipes overhead. I wondered how I was supposed to pack up my whole life in a single night. What was there to pack, anyway? A few dresses, all black and plain. Three paperbacks with cracked spines. Some old letters Saraphina wrote me since I did not have a phone before she stopped writing. A scarf that still smelled a little like her perfume.

The other servants found me as I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my empty bag. Martha, who’d worked here since before I was born, put her hand on my shoulder. She didn’t say anything. She just squeezed, her rough palm warm through my nightgown. Someone else, a boy I barely knew, brought a cup of weak tea and left it at my side.

“You’re leaving us, Rae?” Martha finally asked, her voice gentle.

I nodded. I didn’t trust myself to speak. There was a sharp ache in my chest, like all the things I wanted to say were fighting to get out but couldn’t.

Martha smiled, though her eyes looked tired. “Nocturne Prep is a fine place for a clever girl. Your mother would be proud.”

The words hit me like cold water, but I didn’t answer. I never knew my mother. Everything I knew came from the way people whispered when I walked past, or from Saraphina, when she used to ask if I missed having a real mum. It was easier to just let Martha believe her story.

The servants helped me pack. Someone slipped a bar of chocolate into my bag. Another pressed a little lavender sachet into my palm for luck. They hugged me, awkward and careful. Even though I barely looked at them, I felt their kindness. It almost made me cry, but I held it back. I had learned that tears only made things harder.

Dawn came while I sat by the window, watching the sky turn pale. The estate felt different now. It was more empty, more quiet. I wanted to remember everything. The smell of bread rising in the kitchen. The cool stone under my bare feet. The way the willow trees in the garden swayed in the early light. But memories slipped through my fingers like smoke.

A knock sounded at the door. I jumped, my heart in my throat. Martha opened it, and a different sentinel stepped inside. He was tall, his uniform crisp, his face set in a line that looked carved from rock. He didn’t smile. I wondered if they ever did.

“Miss Rae,” he said, his voice low. “It’s time.”

I picked up my bag. It felt heavier than it should have, like it carried all the years I’d spent trying to be invisible. Martha pressed a quick kiss to my forehead and whispered, “Be good, girl.” Then she was gone.

The sentinel led me through the empty halls. My footsteps echoed. We passed portraits of Vale ancestors. Every one seemed to have Saraphina’s sharp cheekbones and cold blue eyes. I felt small, a ghost passing through the only home I’d ever known.

At the front door, he handed me a slim black phone. “The Alpha’s number is saved. You only call if there is an emergency or something important to the pack. You will receive a monthly allowance of three thousand dollars. Make it last.”

I nodded, tucking the phone into my pocket. The money sounded like a lot, but I didn’t know what counted as enough. I’d never had my own money before. He fixed me with a stare.

“There are rules,” he said. “You keep your head down. No trouble. If anyone asks about your background, you’re a distant cousin of the Vales, nothing more. You never speak about your status. Ever. Is that clear?”

I nodded again, my mouth dry. I wasn’t sure if I could trust my voice.

He ushered me outside, where a black car waited at the curb. I slid into the back seat, clutching my bag to my chest. The engine hummed to life, and the estate grew smaller as we pulled away. I looked out the window, watching the willow trees fade behind us. I didn’t wave. I couldn’t.

The drive was quiet. The sentinel sat up front, eyes on the road, hands steady at ten and two. He didn’t try to talk, and I didn’t break the silence. I watched the countryside blur past. Sunlight painted the fields gold, and mist clung to the low ground like a blanket. I wondered if Saraphina ever watched the world this way, between home and school, between one life and another.

Eventually, we slowed as the car approached something strange. An arch of shining stone in the middle of nowhere. It looked like a gateway out of a dream, tall and bright even in the weak morning light.

The sentinel turned around. “We’re going through the Arc. Hold your breath.”

Before I could ask why, the car rolled forward, and the world flickered. For a second, it felt like I was underwater, sound stretching and warping, my skin tingling all over. I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped the seat. When I opened them again, everything had changed.

The road was smoother. The trees were taller, their leaves impossibly green. The sky looked bluer, like it belonged to a painting. We drove through a second Arc just like the first, and I felt the same strange sensation, like all my bones had shifted. My stomach rolled, but I kept it together.

The car finally slowed as we neared a set of black iron gates set into a tall stone wall. A sign above read, NOCTURNE PREP: Home to the new Order. Security stood at attention, watching us with eyes that missed nothing.

The sentinel rolled down the window and exchanged words with the guards. Papers passed back and forth. He handed over a folder with my name printed neatly on the front. I tried not to stare at the men with guns slung over their shoulders. They looked bored, almost casual. It felt strange, how nobody seemed shocked or upset. I thought of Saraphina, and how fast the world moved on.

After what felt like forever, we were waved through. The car wound up a long drive lined with cypress trees. Beyond the gate, the school rose out of the earth like something from a gothic story. Towers and arches, windows glinting in the sun. Students moved across the lawns in small groups, laughing, reading, talking. Their uniforms looked sharper than anything I’d ever worn.

We parked near the main entrance. The sentinel turned off the engine and turned to face me. “You’ll meet the headmistress now. Remember, keep your head down.”

I stepped out, knees weak, and followed him up the wide marble steps. The front doors opened silently, and I was swallowed into a mist of lingering air freshener and the smell of polished wood.

Inside, the building buzzed with quiet energy. Staff in crisp suits moved with purpose, eyes forward, smiles professional. Nobody gave me a second glance. It was as if new students arrived every day, even ones sent because a golden child had died.

The sentinel led me to an office at the end of a long hall. He knocked, then opened the door and nodded for me to go in. I took a shaky breath and entered.

The headmistress stood by the window, sunlight catching on her hair. She wore a navy suit, not a hair out of place, and her smile was warm but distant.

“Miss Rae Vale, welcome to Nocturne Prep,” she said, her voice calm. “We are sorry for your family’s loss. You’ll find we do our best to support our students through difficult times.”

I tried to thank her, but the words stuck. I managed a stiff nod. Everything in me felt tight, wound up and waiting for something to go wrong. My eyes kept darting around the room, as if Saraphina might be hiding behind the big desk or curled in a chair.

The headmistress didn’t seem to notice my nerves. She picked up a folder from her desk and handed it to me. “Your schedule, dorm assignment, and handbook are all inside. If you need anything, you can speak to your dorm matron or come to my office.”

I nodded again, clutching the folder like a lifeline. The scent of lavender drifted through the open window, and I tried to focus on breathing.

Before I could say anything else, a sweet scent filled my lungs. It was wild and fresh, like the woods after rain and something richer beneath. My heart started pounding, my wolf stirring somewhere deep inside. I swallowed, unsure if I was about to pass out or throw up.

The door creaked open behind me. I turned, and everything in me froze.

A boy walked in—no, not a boy, a man. Tall, broad-shouldered, his skin like sunlight on copper, his hair a spill of gold. He moved with the easy confidence of someone who’d never heard the word “no.” His eyes were green, sharp as new grass, and when they landed on me, I felt the earth tilt.

My wolf went silent, then whispered one word, clear and insistent. Mate.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t look away. For a second, the grief and fear and pain faded, replaced by a kind of wonder. All my life I’d been nothing more than a secret, a shadow. Now, in this strange place, with this stranger looking at me like I was the only person in the room, I felt seen. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

The headmistress cleared her throat, and the spell broke. I dropped my gaze, cheeks burning, unsure of what to do or say next. The man’s eyes lingered on me for another moment, then he nodded politely and addressed the headmistress.

“You called me, Headmistress Fox.” His voice had a warmth to it, smooth and a little lazy, like he’d just woken up from the best nap of his life.

The headmistress smiled. “Yes, thank you for coming so quickly, Professor. This is Rae Vale. She’s joining us today, and I’d like you to show her around campus. You’re much better at making new students feel welcome than some of their peers.”

His eyes flicked to me again. There was something sharp about the way he looked, like he noticed everything. My too-tight grip on the folder, the nervous twitch in my jaw, the fact that my shoes were old and scuffed. His mouth curled up just a little, not quite a smile but not unfriendly.

He held out his hand. “Assistant Professor Cassian Rhys,” he said. “But most people around here just call me Cass. I’m your tour guide, apparently.”

His grip was gentle but solid, his skin cool against mine. The touch sent a jolt down my arm. My wolf pressed closer, ears perked, trying to figure him out. Did he feel it too?

He let go and gave a small, mocking bow, all perfect manners with a hint of mischief. “I should also mention—full disclosure—I’m an incubus.”