At school, Scarlett could feel Claire's eyes on her the moment she walked into the hallway. The queen bee was leaning against her locker, watching her like a hawk watches its prey.
"Well, well," Claire's voice rang out, sweet like poison. "Someone's looking brighter than usual." She pushed off the locker, taking a few steps closer. Her perfect blonde hair bounced with each step, and her smile didn't reach her eyes. "Did something good happen, Scarlett? Or are you just pretending again?" Scarlett kept walking, eyes down, counting the tiles on the floor. One, two, three... anything to keep her mind off Claire's voice. "Oh, so now you're too good to talk to me?" Claire's sweet tone turned sharp. "Bet you're just imagining things getting better. God, you're so pathetic." The words bounced off Scarlett today. She thought about meeting Liam after school, and somehow, that made Claire's voice sound more like annoying background noise than anything else. When the final bell rang, Scarlett jumped up so fast her chair scraped against the floor. A few kids turned to look, but she didn't care. Her phone buzzed in her pocket as she grabbed her bag. She pulled it out, her heart doing a little dance when she saw Liam's message: Hey, I'm waiting by the usual spot. She couldn't help the stupid grin that spread across her face. She shoved her phone in her pocket and practically ran out of the classroom. The hallways were packed with kids trying to escape school, but for once, she didn't mind squeezing through the crowds. But someone was watching. Someone was always watching. Claire stood by the lockers with her little group. Her perfect eyebrows went up as she watched Scarlett rush past, not even noticing them. "Would you look at that," Claire said, nudging Ava with her elbow. Her lips curled into something between a smile and a sneer. "Little Scarlett looks like she just won the lottery or something." Ava flipped her dark hair over her shoulder. "Yeah, it's weird. She never looks happy." "Maybe she aced another test?" Brittany suggested, playing with her charm bracelet. "You know how she is with grades and stuff." Claire let out a laugh that made a freshman walking by jump. "Oh please, Britt. Nobody gets that excited over a grade." Her eyes narrowed as she watched Scarlett disappear around the corner. "No... I bet she's got herself a boyfriend or something." "No way," Ava's eyes lit up with gossip-hungry excitement. "Should we follow her? See what's got her all bouncy?" Claire's smile turned mean. "Obviously. Come on." She grabbed Lily's arm - quiet Lily who always followed along - and the four of them trailed after Scarlett. They stayed far enough back that she wouldn't notice, but close enough to see where she was going. Scarlett was too wrapped up in her own little world to even look back. They followed her down the street until she stopped suddenly. That's when they saw him. "Oh. My. God." Ava whispered. Liam was there, looking like something out of a teen movie as he leaned against a lamppost. One hand was stuck in his pocket, the other holding his phone. When he spotted Scarlett, his whole face lit up with a smile that made Claire's stomach twist with anger. Scarlett walked up to him like a shy puppy, all nervous energy. She said something they couldn't hear, and Liam threw his head back laughing. "What the actual hell?" Claire hissed, her perfectly manicured nails digging into her palm. Ava peered around Claire's shoulder. "Wait, isn't that Liam? From East Haven?" "He's so hot," Brittany whispered. "What's he doing with her?" They watched as Scarlett actually smiled - a real smile that transformed her whole face. She looked... pretty. Claire's blood boiled. "Oh, this is just too perfect," Claire muttered, stepping forward. Her heels clicked against the sidewalk as she walked. "Scarlett! Hey buddy!" Claire's voice dripped with fake sweetness. She bounced forward like an excited puppy, all smiles and sparkle. "Oh my gosh, aren't you going to introduce us to your friend?" The color drained from Scarlett's face. She looked like she might throw up. "I... uh..." Scarlett's voice came out barely louder than a whisper. Liam, bless his oblivious heart, smiled that movie-star smile. "Hi there, I'm Liam. Scarlett and I walk together sometimes." "That is so sweet!" Claire gushed, batting her eyelashes. "I'm Claire - one of Scarlett's best friends." Scarlett's hands balled into fists. Best friends? The lie made her want to scream. The others swarmed in like sharks that smelled blood. They giggled and flirted, asking Liam questions and making little jokes. Every now and then they'd say something like "Oh Scarlett, remember when..." followed by some subtle dig that only Scarlett would understand. Claire worked her magic like always. She laughed at all the right moments, asked all the right questions, and somehow got Liam talking about his life at East Haven. She even made him laugh - really laugh - three times. Scarlett counted. Scarlett stood there feeling smaller and smaller with each passing minute. Her throat felt too tight to speak. Every time Liam smiled at something Claire said, Scarlett felt like she was fading away, becoming invisible right there on the sidewalk. When they finally left, Scarlett's good mood was completely destroyed. The happiness from earlier felt like it happened to someone else. She stormed into her house, ignoring her mom's "How was school?" and her dad's grunt from the couch. She ran upstairs and slammed her door so hard the walls shook. Her bag hit the floor with a thud as she fell face-first onto her bed. Hot tears burned behind her eyes as the scene played over and over in her head like a bad movie she couldn't turn off. Claire had ruined everything - again. The teasing she could handle. The mean comments, the whispered insults, even the way Claire made sure Scarlett knew she was an outsider - all of that she'd learned to live with. But this? This was different. Liam was the one good thing she had. The one person who actually seemed to see her. She grabbed her pillow and screamed into it, her whole body shaking with anger. "Not in my dreams," she whispered fiercely. "You can't have that too." Night fell slowly, but Scarlett's anger didn't fade. If anything, it grew stronger, burning hotter with each passing hour. When sleep finally came, the dream world welcomed her like an old friend. The familiar mist swirled around her feet as the school grounds formed in her mind. She looked around, half expecting to see him, but the strange man wasn't there. Not yet. Then he appeared, like a shadow taking shape. Lucien stepped out of the darkness, his silver hair catching what little light there was. His eyes glowed with something like entertainment as his lips curved into that annoying smirk. "Well, well," he purred, his voice smooth as silk. "Look who's back. I was starting to think you'd given up on our little game." Scarlett glared at him, her hands shaking with all the anger she'd been holding in. "Stay out of my way! What do you even want from me?" He tilted his head like a curious cat. "My, my. Someone's in a mood tonight." His smirk grew wider. "Let me guess - that girl you like to torture in your dreams. What did she do this time?" Scarlett didn't answer. Instead, she marched right up to him and shoved him as hard as she could. She wanted to wipe that stupid smirk off his face. Lucien stumbled back a step but caught himself easily. He brushed off his clothes like she'd gotten them dirty. "Feisty tonight, aren't we?" He actually sounded impressed. "But you'll need more than that to handle someone like me. Why not let me help you?" "I don't need your help," Scarlett spat the words at him. His laugh was deep and dark, sending shivers down her spine. "Oh, Scarlett," he said, already melting back into the shadows. "We'll see about that. Let's make this... interesting." As he disappeared, something changed in the dream. The ground shook under Scarlett's feet, and the air felt different - charged with some kind of power she didn't understand. She clenched her fists so tight her nails bit into her palms. Whatever this stranger was up to, whatever game he was playing, she wasn't going to let him win. And she definitely wasn't going to let Claire win either. Not here. Not in her dreams. Not anymore.After the weird guy left, Scarlett felt something quite different but she couldn't put her finger around what was different. The dream was different this time. More real. More vivid. It suddenly changed, when she turned around, she saw her, Claire. Claire was alone - no faithful followers, no adoring crowd. Just Claire, looking small for once. Scarlett felt powerful. Every bit of anger, every moment of humiliation fueled her as she approached Claire in the dream. Dream-Claire backed away, her usual confidence nowhere to be seen. "Please," Dream-Claire whimpered. "I'm sorry!" But Scarlett wasn't listening. Not anymore. Her hand shot out, grabbing Claire by the throat. She squeezed, watching those perfect features turn red, then purple. When she finally let go, Claire collapsed to the ground, gasping. Scarlett didn't stop there. All the rage she'd bottled up came pouring out. She kicked and punched, each hit feeling more satisfying than the last. By the time she was done, Dre
Scarlett woke up with her head pounding. His words wouldn't leave her alone, echoing over and over: "I helped unlock something that was already there. The rest? That's all you, dear Scarlett. All you." She groaned, pressing her palms against her eyes. Everything felt heavy - her body, her thoughts, even the air around her. Yesterday's events kept playing in her mind like a broken record: Claire's bruised neck, the way she'd flinched away, the fear in her eyes... "It couldn't have been me," Scarlett whispered to her empty room. "It was just a dream. Just a stupid dream." But even as she said it, she knew she was lying to herself. Those bruises had matched her dream perfectly - every mark, every shadow of pain she'd inflicted in her sleep. She dragged herself out of bed, feeling like she hadn't slept at all. Downstairs, she could hear her mom moving around in the kitchen. Guilt twisted in her stomach as she remembered how she'd snapped at her yesterday. Her mom was at the stove wh
Scarlett slowed her pace as she approached Crestwood Academy's iron gates. Her stomach churned at the sight of students clustering in their usual morning groups. Every laugh, every glance in her direction felt loaded with potential danger.She kept her head down as she moved through the crowds to her locker. She checked her class schedule while picking the appropriate books for the class and turned around-only to bump into someone.The bump sent Scarlett's books tumbling to the floor. "I'm so sorry," she mumbled automatically, dropping to her knees to gather them. It wasn't until she looked up that she realized who she'd collided with.Claire Bennett stood there, looking nothing like her usual polished self. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, partially hidden beneath hastily applied concealer. Her normally perfect hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she wore a turtleneck despite the warm weather.Their eyes met for a brief moment. Scarlett waited for the usual torrent of cruel
"It's time we talk." The words sliced through the dream's gentle atmosphere like a blade. Scarlett felt the warmth of her previous dream with Liam dissolving, replaced by something colder, more dangerous. She found herself staring into Lucien's eyes - gray as winter storm clouds and just as unpredictable. His white hair seemed to capture and reflect the dream-light, creating an ethereal halo that made him look both beautiful and terrifying. Something deep in her brain, some ancient survival instinct, screamed *danger* with every passing second. "What do you want from me?" She was surprised by how steady her voice sounded, given how her heart was racing. Lucien's lips curved into that infuriating smirk she was beginning to recognize. He reached out, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face. His touch was cold, sending shivers down her spine that weren't entirely from fear. "Tell me, Scarlett," he said, dropping his hand but maintaining that intense gaze. "Do you know what you
Scarlett stared at him, a mixture of awe and wariness dancing in her eyes. "What I am?" The words trembled slightly. "What am I then?"Lucien's startling gray eyes locked onto her, his snow-white hair catching the dream-light like a halo of frost. He studied her with an intensity that made her want to shrink back, yet something kept her rooted in place."You are a dream walker, Scarlett Hayes," he said finally, each word measured and precise."Say what now?" Scarlett asked, a nervous laugh bubbling up from her throat. The absurdity of the moment wasn't lost on her - a mysterious pale-haired stranger telling her she was some kind of supernatural dream traveler.But Lucien wasn't laughing. His entire body went rigid, something dark and dangerous flickering in those storm-gray eyes. His muscles tensed, as if he were a predator sensing a threat."He's found us," he muttered, more to himself than to her."Who found us?" Scarlett demanded, frustration rising. "What are you talking about?"L
The Dreamworld stretched out around Lucien, a weird, shifting landscape that wouldn't make sense to someone not used to it. Shadows twisted and turned, creating spaces that shouldn't exist. His white hair stood out sharply against the murky darkness, almost glowing. He'd just pushed Scarlett out of the dream - and he knew something big was about to happen. A soft disturbance rippled behind him. The dream-space itself seemed to shudder, like a thin fabric about to tear. But Lucien didn't move. Not even a twitch. "What do you want?" he said, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. At first, nothing. Just complete quiet. Then a laugh started - a deep sound that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. It wasn't a happy laugh. This was the kind of sound that made your skin crawl, like something ancient and dangerous was watching. When Lucien finally turned around, he saw something that could've been his mirror self - but older and more mature looking. The gu
Scarlett felt herself drifting off, purposely seeking that familiar path to lucid dreaming. Her mind wandered through layers of consciousness until she finally slipped into that space between reality and dreams. She'd gotten better at this - at least the getting in part. The first thing she saw was Lucien. He stood there looking like some kind of angel straight out of a painting - all striking white hair that seemed to glow in the dream light, and those intense gray eyes that always made her feel like he could see right through her. His face was almost too perfect, pale and handsome in a way that didn't seem quite human. Right now though, that perfect face was twisted with worry. "Took you long enough," he muttered. He tried to sound annoyed, but Scarlett caught the relief in his voice. He wasn't as good at hiding his emotions as he thought. "What's a dream walker?" The words burst out of her before she could stop them. "Why me? And more importantly - how do I get rid of these p
Scarlett sat there in the dream-crafted chair, trying to process everything Lucien had just told her. The implications made her head spin, and she found herself staring at his unnaturally perfect features as she tried to make sense of it all, "So..." she started slowly, choosing her words carefully. "Were you one of them? One of the thirteen original soldiers?" Her eyes lit up with curiosity. "Like the first vampires in all those movies? Like umm vampire diaries was it? oh wait Originals right?" Lucien shook his head, his white hair catching the strange light of the dreamscape in a way that made it look almost alive. "No, I wasn't among the originals. I came much later, during the 1900s." Seeing the confusion written across her face, he elaborated, "I was turned during that time period. My relationship with the original who turned me was..." he paused, and for a moment, his perfect mask slipped, showing something raw and painful underneath. "...special." Scarlett noticed the look
Morning light streamed through the kitchen window, painfully bright to Scarlett's exhausted eyes. She hadn't slept a wink after the incident with the blood message and Lucien's cryptic words. Instead, she'd spent the remaining hours of darkness huddled in her bedroom with every light switched on, jumping at every creak and groan of the house settling. The distant sound of a key turning in the front door lock made Scarlett's heart skip a beat before she remembered—it was just her mother returning from her night shift. With a deep breath, she pushed herself up from the kitchen table where she'd been nursing a cup of cold coffee and went to greet her. "Mom?" Scarlett called softly, making her way to the entryway. Her mother looked up as she hung her coat on the hook by the door, seeming startled by Scarlett's presence. "Sweetheart! You're up early." She tilted her head, studying Scarlett's face. "Goodness, you look exhausted. Trouble sleeping?" Scarlett managed a weak nod, her eyes d
Night had fallen by the time Scarlett made it home, the house dark and empty. Her mother's night shift had already begun, leaving Scarlett alone with her thoughts and fears. She checked every lock twice, drew every curtain, and still couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. After a meager dinner of cold cereal—the only thing her churning stomach could handle—she retreated to her bedroom, pulling out her notebook of lucid dreaming research. The pages blurred before her eyes as exhaustion tugged at her consciousness. No matter how much she tried to focus, her mind kept drifting back to the day's events: her mother's strange behavior that morning, Claire's fear, Liam's memories, and Lucien's absence. Where was he when she needed him most? Her phone remained stubbornly silent, her texts unanswered. The clock on her desk ticked past midnight as she flipped through her notes, desperate for something—anything—that might explain what was happening. "I should just go to sleep," s
The hallways of Crestwood Academy seemed normal enough on the surface—students rushing to class, lockers slamming, the usual sense of teenage life—but to Scarlett, everything felt off-way off. Like the world had shifted slightly on its axis when she wasn't looking. Lucien's absence was the first thing she'd noticed. He didn't approach her on her way home as usual, his desk empty with Mr Peterson marking him absent without comment. No text explaining why. No warning he wouldn't be there. Just... gone. But it was Claire's behavior that truly unsettled her. Claire—who had made it her personal mission to torment Scarlett since she started this school—was acting like a cornered animal. Jumpy. Paranoid. Her usual confidence replaced by something that looked suspiciously like fear. During lunch, Scarlett watched as Claire's eyes darted nervously around the cafeteria, flinching at every loud noise. When their gazes accidentally met across the room, Claire's face drained of color, and
Morning light filtered through the kitchen curtains, casting long golden rectangles across the worn wooden table. Scarlett sat with her bowl of cereal untouched before her, the flakes slowly turning to mush as she stared absently at them. Dark circles shadowed her eyes—evidence of her sleepless night after the nightmare that had felt too real to dismiss. Across the table, her mother nursed a cup of coffee, her third since waking. Usually, the morning routine was filled with her mother's chatter about hospital gossip or gentle reminders about Scarlett's schedule. Today, there was only silence, broken occasionally by the soft ticking of the wall clock and the distant sound of birds outside. Scarlett watched her mother with growing concern. She seemed... off. Present physically but mentally elsewhere, staring into her coffee mug as if it contained mysteries she couldn't quite decipher. Every few minutes, she would lift the mug to her lips, then pause, looking momentarily confused abou
Cold air swirled around her skin, not like a natural breeze but like ghostly fingers trailing across her arms, her neck, her face. Each touch sent violent shivers through her body. "Hello?" she called out, her voice sounding muffled and distant, as if the void itself was absorbing the sound. "Is anyone here?" Silence answered her, pressing against her eardrums with its weight. Scarlett turned slowly, searching for any landmark, any point of reference in the featureless expanse. There was nothing but darkness and more darkness. Then, a voice—low, rich, and filled with amusement—whispered from somewhere both impossibly far away and terrifyingly close. "You're finally listening." The words seemed to caress her skin, each syllable leaving a trail of ice in its wake. Scarlett spun around, trying to locate the source, but the voice seemed to come from everywhere at once. "Who's there?" she demanded, forcing steel into her voice despite the fear bubbling in her chest. "Show yourself!"
Scarlett locked the front door after Lucien left, sliding the deadbolt into place with a solid click that echoed in the quiet foyer. She stood there for a moment, her palm flat against the cool wood, remembering the intensity in Lucien's eyes when he'd told her to secure everything. "Lock your doors tonight, Scarlett. All of them. And your windows." His words replayed in her mind as she moved through the house, methodically checking each window and ensuring each latch was firmly secured. The house was silent except for the steady tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the hallway, its pendulum swinging with hypnotic regularity. Her mother had already retired upstairs, exhaustion finally claiming her after her hospital shift and the unexpected dinner guest. In the living room, Scarlett's fingers hovered over the light switch. The darkness beyond the windows seemed to press against the glass, watching, waiting. She hesitated, glancing toward the window that faced the old oak tree—the
Scarlett walked closer to the shadow, her heart hammering against her ribs. As she approached, she realized it was merely a trick of the light—shadows cast by the curtains dancing in the afternoon breeze. She exhaled shakily, trying to calm her racing pulse. "Mom?" she called out again, louder this time. "Are you home?" A sudden movement from the kitchen doorway made Scarlett jump and let out a piercing scream. Her mother stood there, looking startled by her daughter's reaction. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?" her mom asked, concern etched across her tired features. She wiped her hands on a dishcloth, dark circles prominent beneath her usually bright eyes. Scarlett pressed a hand to her chest, willing her heartbeat to slow. "Nothing. Just... my nerves, I guess. You scared me." She studied her mother carefully. "What were you doing? I called out when I came in." Her mother's brow furrowed slightly, a distant look clouding her eyes. "I honestly can't remember," she admitted, rubbing he
Lucien had noticed something strange about Claire, but when Scarlett mentioned it earlier, he had brushed it off. After all, what did Claire's odd behavior have to do with him? His focus was on protecting Scarlett from the original vampires, his mind constantly working through potential plans.But when he'd brushed past Claire in the cafeteria on his way to join Scarlett and her friends, something caught his attention. A scent. Faint but unmistakable—evidence of lingering dream powers mingled with the distinct scent of a vampire. And the only vampire with dream powers besides himself was his elder brother, Ezra.The vampire scent was so faint it was almost nonexistent, but Lucien's senses were too sharp to miss it. That's why he had told Scarlett to go home without him. He needed to investigate without putting her at risk.Was Ezra here? The thought seemed impossible. Ezra would never leave his post to venture into the human world. The vampire council—King Arthur himself—had given the
Scarlett sighed. "It's Lucien, isn't it?" she asked without turning around. They nodded, smirking knowingly. Before she could turn to face him, she felt a soft pressure against her cheek—Lucien's lips, brushing lightly against her skin in a brief but unmistakable kiss. "Why are you denying me, Scarlett?" he asked, his voice pitched low and teasing. He placed a hand over his heart in mock pain. "You're breaking my heart. Are you saying our kisses meant nothing to you?" The girls erupted into poorly suppressed giggles as Scarlett turned to face him, her cheeks burning. She gave him a pointed look, silently cursing him and begging him to stop in equal measure. Lucien, of course, ignored her silent plea entirely. His gray eyes twinkled with mischief as he slid into the seat beside her, close enough that their shoulders touched. "I'm wounded," he continued, draping an arm casually around her shoulders. "Truly wounded." "I hate you," Scarlett muttered under her breath, but ther