For my dedicated reviewer:

Thank you so much for taking time to review this. I read every review I receive, on any story, and actually pay more attention to reviews than any followers I get or whatever. If you have any requests I will try to fit them in here, and to clear up your confusion, I'll explain each of the non-canon characters at the end of this A/N

For all my other readers (Do I have any?):

Please start reviewing D: I love hearing your input, and I love getting reviews. Without reviews, how am I supposed to know you enjoy this story? Without reviews, it's just gathering dust. I'm working hard on this, and I have an epic storyline plotted out, but if I'm going to do my part, you guys gotta do your part too.

Non-Canon Characters Thus Far:

Olivya "Liv" Rhiannon Monroe

Described as having long black wavy hair and startling green eyes. Liv is the main character in this story and is twenty three with five Strigoi kills. I'm pretty sure you guys know who she is, sorta. If you want a mental image, Evangeline Lilly passes as a pretty good Liv.

Arianwen "Aria" Nia Argall

Next to nothing is known about this character. She is first met in this chapter. Aria is Liv's adopted sister from Wales. You'll learn more about her later on.

Innusha "Innya" Marie Monroe

Nothing is really known about her, but it is known that she is the daughter of Liv Monroe and Aleksandr Drosdov. She's three years old and was killed in a Strigoi attack two months ago.

Aleksandr "Alek" Mikhail Drosdov

Described as being around Adrian's height, pale, has light brown shaggy hair and deep blue eyes that appear "as blue and as bottomless as the ocean". A partier with a similar personality to Adrian, and a powerful Spirit user. Younger brother of Vera Drosdov and Liv's ex boyfriend. The two did not break up on good terms, which is why she hates Adrian, who reminds her of him. Russian heritage.

Vera Nadiya Drosdov:

A royal Moroi and Liv's ex-charge. Older sister of Aleksandr Drosdov, twenty-eight when killed. Died in Strigoi attack two months ago, under Liv's watch. Liv blames herself. Russian heritage, raised in Seattle, Powerful air user.

Nikolai "Nik" Viktor Conta

Russian born and raised, Arianwen's crush and charge. Friends with Adrian. Living in Russia. Royal Moroi.

Oh, and I just realized I didn't post a Disclaimer so…

I Do Not Own Vampire Academy. I Only Own The Plot, Liv, Aria, Innya, Vera, Alek, and Nik. Oh, And Any Other Future Characters I May Throw In.

Now, enough of that, on with the story!

I awoke to a pounding head that rivaled the pounding on the door. How long had that been going on? I sat up, running a hand through my knotted, disheveled hair. I hadn't even bothered taking off my shoes last night.

The pounding wouldn't stop. "Alright, alright already! Stop the fudging pounding!" I snapped, walking over to the door. I knew my neighbours would be pissed later. Opening the door, I was a little surprised to see an irate Mia holding a black cat stuffy with a green ribbon holding a rolled up letter around it's neck. To clarify, I was confused by the cat, not the irate Mia. That was nothing really new.

"What the hell was up with last night, Liv?" She snapped at me, slamming the cat down on my side table.

"Hey! Be nice to the kitty!" I said, rushing over to cradle it in my arms. Even though cats hated dhampirs like myself, I couldn't help but adore them, something that had earned me a fair share amount of scratches and bites in my day.

"Forget the cat, Liv! Why the hell were you so rude to Adrian last night, and then ran off?"

I frowned, remembering that Ivashkov brat. "I'm sorry, but I'd rather not talk about it. Let's just say past experiences and leave it at that. Now where did this cat come from?"

Mia paused momentarily, looking over at it, "I'm not sure. It was on your doorstep this morning when I went to knock. It looks like their's a note, though."

I nodded, carefully undoing the ribbon and opening the rolled up note. The moment I saw the nickname, I scowled.

'Kitten,
No need to play hard to get, you've already got me. Still, if you must, you should know that I like a good challenge. Game on.
Adrian'

Ugh. Adrian. In my frustration, I tossed the cat at the wall, then promptly ran to it and scooped it in my arms, cuddling it. "What the hell did I do to earn his affection?" I grumbled, petting the uber soft stuffed cat.

Mia shrugged, "are we up for training today?"

"Maybe later. I have a bit of a headache right now." I said, still stroking the cat. His fur was so soft, and fluffy, and... I loved it. I hated that it was a gift from Lord Douchebag, but... how could I hate it? It was soft, and fluffy, and black, and loveable.

"Your name is Koko." I nodded, stroking the cat. An image popped into my head and I got uncontrollable giggles, "Koko Fuzzletons III, of Whiskermoor Manor." I grinned, "now... should you be Lord Koko Fuzzletons III, or Sir Koko Fuzzletons III. Hmm..." I deliberated, feeling the words roll off my tongue, "Sir Koko Fuzzletons the third, of Whiskermoor Manor... you need a top hat. And a cane. Maybe a cape. AND A FANCY MUSTACHE." I grinned. Mia just shook her head and walked out the door.

So, with that taken care of, I put Sir Koko onto my bed. Tomorrow morning, human time, I would go out and see if I could find the appropriate accessories for Sir Koko, but right now I had to go out. I was about to walk out of the room, but an uncontrollable urge came over me and I rushed back to it, scooping him up and tucking him under my arm. There. That felt better.
I walked outside, garnering many stares. I didn't blame them. I mean, how often did you see a tough, badass Guardian carrying around a black cat stuffy? I would've stared too. I was headed down to the cafe when I spotted a certain raven haired boy, walking with a slight limp.

"Hey Fire crotch!" I shouted, causing him to jump and wince in my direction. I quickly jogged to catch up to him, then noticed the amount of pain in his eyes. "What's up?"

Christian glared at me. "I just finished training with Rose and twisted my ankle. It's not that big of a deal."

I frowned, "why didn't you have your spirit wielders heal it?"

He sighed, "Well, I figure if Mia can do it without Spirit, I can do it too. It hurts. A lot."

I snorted, "Well, of course it hurts! But don't be stupid. The faster you have it healed, the more you can train. Mia only does it without Spirit cause she has to. If given the option, she'd definitely use Spirit." I smiled, patting his shoulder, "and don't worry, Ozeras always make the best fighters."

He smiled a little at that, "why do you say that?"

I smirked, "why do you think I'm such a badass? I'm an Ozera, through my father. I just didn't get the eyes." I shrugged. Honestly, I loved my dad. Our family was a little odd. My dad had helped raise us, and was actually married to my mother.

"You know your father?" He asked. I nodded, but didn't go into detail.

"Come on, let's go get you healed up." I said, leaning down to offer him my shoulder. He shook his head, which confused me.

"If I'm going to get healed up, at least let me deal with the pain a little longer. It could do me some good to build up my pain tolerance." Well, I couldn't argue that.

"Alright." I agreed with a nod. I stroked my cat stuffy as we began our very slow walk to the Healers.

"What's that?" Christian asked with a snicker.

"His name is Sir Koko Fuzzletons III of Whiskermoor Manor. Or at least, it will be when I get him a few things. Right now he's just Koko."

Christian burst out laughing, "Sir Koko Fuzzletons III?"

I grumbled, "Hey! Don't laugh! He's sensitive…" I said, stroking Koko's ears. He just gave me a look and continued walking, snickering to himself.

It took us forever, but we finally managed to get to the Healers'. Now, let me explain. About a year after Queen Vasilisa's rise, more and more Spirit wielders from across the globe started coming to Court. This gave Lissa the idea to put a separate room inside the hospital or whatever. There would always be a healing Spirit user on duty, and they had a certain rotation so no one would get too overworked. In emergencies they would have two or three. Spirit users were there for the worse injuries. You know, dismemberment, disembowelment, severe bleeding or burns, broken, fractured, or sprained bones… and it was usually just for active Guardians, cause we were kinda their only hope in a Strigoi attack. Best to keep us alive and all that jazz. But they didn't bring people back from the dead, unless it was at their own discretion. Usually reserved for a family member or very close friend and whatnot. Otherwise, if you were dead, you were dead. It had been a tough decision for the Queen, one I'm sure she struggled with constantly. Who was she to say who lived or who died? Still, she had done it, mostly to pick up the slack of the hospital.

However, during our peaceful times, when people weren't getting hurt and killed too often, sometimes a Spirit user would heal fairly small but dehabilitating injuries, like a twisted ankle. It was still up to their discretion. You couldn't go to them for every cut and scratch, and they had every right to refuse, since it kinda screwed up their minds in the long run, but it sure helped.

There was something else that had been noticed among Spirit users. Of note, there was St. Vladmir, Avery Lazar, Vasilisa Dragomir, Adrian Ivashkov, Aleksandr Drosdov, Arianwen Sant, and of course, others. Something catch your eye? Lazar, Dragomir, Ivashkov, Drosdov… a majority of all Spirit users were Royal. Those who weren't had traces of Royal blood in their family line. Furthermore, Spirit showed up more commonly in females, although it isn't obvious by the list I just gave you. 60 or 70% of all Spirit users were female. This was a phenomenon that was being studied, although I know my sister had a story that could explain it. Probably an inaccurate one, but a story nonetheless.

So, anyways, since it was as slow as it could be, since our last attack was two months ago, there was only one person ahead of us before Christian could see the Healer.

The Healer, who happened to be none other than Adrian Ivashkov himself.

"Oh, bunnies." I muttered under my breath with a growl, running my free hand through my hair irritably.

"Well, good morning, my purring Kitten. How are you today?" The Royal douche grinned.

I rolled my eyes, "Shut up and fix his ankle so I can leave." I pointed. Unfortunately, fate had decided I would be a clumsy bull and I dropped the cat.

Well, of course Adrian smirked, picking it up. "What's this? The gift I gave you? Aww, you loved it so much you're carrying it around everywhere! How cute, Kitten," he grinned.

"Shut up and give me Sir Koko. Gimme!" I could feel my cheeks go as red as a Strigoi's sun-burned tooshie as he continued to hold it out of my reach.

"Sir Koko? You even named him?" He smirked in amusement, finally giving it back. I so wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. He made a point of brushing his fingers against mine, sending an electric shock through me. That Royal tooshie.

"Yeah, yeah. Okay. Enough of your sexual tension, already. Lock yourself in a closet AFTER my ankle is healed." Christian snapped. I looked to him, grateful for taking the attention off me.

"Oh, we will." Adrian murmured, sending me a wayward glance while healing his ankle. I shuddered and clutched Koko closer to my chest, which only seemed to amuse him more.

"Slink off, okay? I like cats, it's a weakness. Get over it."

Adrian laughed, "I know. Nikolai told me."

I frowned, "Nikolai Conta? But how does he- ARIA!" I seethed, furious at my sister. I stormed out of the Lion's den and pulled out my cell, dialing the number I knew by heart.

"Hello?" A familiar voice asked, speaking Russian.

"Arianwen!" I growled.

"Chwaer hŷn! Shwmae!" She squealed, switching to Welsh.

"I didn't call to say hello, Chwaer fach." I growled, also speaking Welsh.

"Oh shit, what did I do?"

"Guess."

She gasped, "Oh no! You saw the book! I'm so sorry, Chwaer hŷn, I didn't mean to! I was eating kiwis an—"

I blinked, confused, "Wait, what?"

She paused, and I could practically hear her frown, "you're not calling about the book?"

"No, what book? What did you do?!"

"Nothing!" She said hurriedly, "so what's wrong?"

"Did you tell Arglwydd Conta about my fondness for cats?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Did you know Arglwydd Conta and Adrian Ivashkov are friends?"

"Yep!" She said in English, popping the P.

I growled, still speaking Welsh, "Well, now I have an annoying, stuck up Royal giving me cat stuffies and calling me Kitten. And it's not like I can get rid of it! I mean, it's a cat! And a stuffy! I've never thrown away a stuffy!"

Again, I could practically hear her smirk as she switched back to Welsh, "Yeah, I know," she said wryly, "they started taking over my closet, too."

"Sorry," I shrugged, not really sorry at all, "I needed room."

"Anyways, what's the big deal? I think it's sweet."

"You would," I retorted, "and the 'big deal' is that I have a Royal courting me. He's an annoying tooshie!"

"Hey, you know what I noticed? Ever since little Innusha was born, you changed every swear word you use except douche, douchebag, douchecanoe or really anything involving douche."

"Not helping!"

"Sorry, but you'll just have to deal with it yourself. Your problem now." She said, and I knew she was grinning, "Love ya, Hwyl!"

"Hwyl." I sighed, hanging up. I turned around to see Adrian and Christian just staring at me, mouth hanging open like a fish.

"What?"

Christian turned to Adrian, "did you understand any of that?"

He frowned, "Conta… Adrian Ivashkov…. That's it, although I'm going to assume the word before Conta was Lord."

I rolled my eyes, "I speak Welsh. Get over it. I also speak Russian, although I'm better at Welsh."

"Why?!" Christian gaped, confused as to why anyone would want to learn another language, apparently.

"My adopted sister, Arianwen, was born and raised in Wales. When she came to live with us, she wasn't very good at English. She was seven, but it was like talking to a four year old. I helped teach her English while she taught me Welsh, and we both learned Russian, in case we ever got a Russian charge. My charge, Vera, was Russian but was raised in Seattle, while hers was Russian and raised there for half his life. She lives in Russia with him now, in Omsk." I explained.

"You're talking about Nikolai?" Adrian asked.

I nodded, "yeah. Arianwen is one of his Guardians."

He frowned, "which one?"

I sighed. I didn't want to talk to him anymore, "the white haired one. You know, short, childlike, dual-natured? Swansea Wales accent?"

Christian gave me a confused look, "Swansea?"

"South Wales."

"Oh, I know who you're talking about!" Adrian grinned, "she's kinda cute."

I snarled, "don't you even dare go near her, Ivashkov, or I'll rip off your nuts and feed it to a polar bear. I don't know where I'll find a polar bear, but trust me when I say I will."

He smirked, cupping my chin, "feisty. That's hot. Don't worry, Kitten, I only have eyes for you."

I swatted his hand away, alarmed by how it made me feel. It was an effect of the Spirit, that's all. That's all. He gave me a knowing look and I let out an exasperate huff, storming off.

Douchebag.