The morning sunlight seeped through the blinds, casting soft golden streaks across the walls of Isabella's dorm room. She tugged on her mom jeans and reached for the pink and purple crochet sweater Bella had made for her. The hearts stitched into the fabric felt like little tokens of comfort, reminders of home. As she slipped on her pink platform Converse and small gold hoops, she took a moment to breathe deeply, trying to calm the persistent anxiety gnawing at her chest.
The weight of the previous night hung heavy in her mind. The grotesque meeting, the revelations about Dr. Cross, and Nick's quiet complicity circled her thoughts like vultures. She glanced at the faint glow of her phone screen—a missed call from her mom. Isabella frowned, guilt curling in her stomach. Maybe she should tell Bella and Edward. They'd know what to do. But then, wouldn't it just prove she couldn't handle things on her own?
"Big girl decisions," she muttered under her breath, securing her claw clip in place. "You've got this."
Claire's soft voice interrupted her spiraling thoughts. "Hey, are you okay?"
Isabella turned to see Claire perched on the edge of her bed, dressed in her usual casual chic style. Her concerned expression softened Isabella's tension, if only for a moment.
"Yeah," Isabella replied, forcing a small smile. "Just didn't sleep well."
Claire crossed the room, slipping her arms around Isabella's waist. "Well, you still look amazing," she teased, planting a kiss on Isabella's cheek. "Want me to walk you to class?"
Isabella hesitated but eventually nodded. The warmth of Claire's presence was a small shield against the storm raging in her mind.
The classroom was steeped in the scent of old books and faint traces of cologne. Isabella slid into her seat as the familiar weight of tension pressed on her shoulders. Dr. Cross entered, his usual commanding presence amplified by the dark suit he wore, paired with a silver tie that gleamed under the fluorescent lights.
"Today's lesson," he began, his voice smooth as silk, "is on sacrifice in mythology." He held up a leather-bound book, the edges worn from time. "Across cultures, sacrifice has been seen as a way to sustain life, maintain power, and appease forces beyond mortal comprehension."
Isabella's breath hitched.
Dr. Cross moved to the blackboard, his posture relaxed but deliberate. "The Aztecs, for instance, believed that offering human life ensured the sun would rise each day. The question is: was it truly necessary? Or was it a tool to wield control?"
He turned to the class, his sharp eyes scanning the room. "Mythology, after all, often veils truths about our own desires and fears."
Isabella's pen trembled in her hand. Every word he spoke felt loaded, like an unspoken warning.
When the bell rang, Dr. Cross's final words followed her out the door: "Remember, allegories can reflect reality. But only if you're willing to see it."
The transition from the unnerving lecture to the earthy calm of the biology lab was a relief. Isabella inhaled the faint scent of soil and ripe tomatoes, letting it ground her. She made her way to the greenhouse at the back of the lab, where the tomato plants had begun to bear fruit.
As she knelt beside the plants, her fingers grazed their leaves. She whispered words of encouragement, allowing her abilities to weave into the soil and coax the fruit to grow. The warmth of life responded to her touch, subtle but steady.
Her focus was interrupted by a shadow falling across her. Looking up, she saw Nick leaning against the greenhouse door, his expression unreadable.
Taking a deep breath, Isabella approached him. "Nick," she said, her voice low but firm, "what are you?"
Nick's eyes flickered with an emotion she couldn't quite place—guilt, maybe. "Does it matter?"
Images flashed in her mind: Claire, Elliot, Juliette, Nathaniel—all of them at risk. Anger surged through her. She grabbed Nick by the collar and slammed him against the greenhouse wall, her vampire strength making the glass tremble.
"Tell me," she demanded, her red eyes glowing with fury.
Nick's lips parted in shock, but he quickly regained composure. "Fine," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm a shapeshifter—a fox. The principal took me in when I had no one. He gave me a family. I don't kill people," he added quickly. "I'm not like them."
"Then why didn't you stop them?" Isabella snapped, her grip tightening.
Nick's voice cracked. "Because I didn't know how! Do you think it's easy to stand up to him? He's not just a shapeshifter—he's something else, something… powerful. Tonight, on the new moon, they're doing a ritual. A human sacrifice to keep him strong, to keep him in control."
Isabella froze, her mind racing. "Where?"
Nick hesitated, but when her glare didn't waver, he relented. "Deep in the woods. Near the old ruins."
She dropped him, and he crumpled to the floor, breathing heavily. Without another word, she stormed out, texting Juliette, Nathaniel, and Elliot: We need to meet. Lunch. It's urgent.
The cafeteria buzzed with chatter, but at their corner table, a heavy silence hung over Isabella, Juliette, Nathaniel, and Elliot.
"They're doing a ritual tonight," Isabella said, her voice steady but cold. "A sacrifice to keep the principal in power. Nick gave me the location."
Juliette's hands clenched into fists. "We can't let this happen."
Elliot nodded, his jaw tight. "We were taught to use our powers to protect, not sit by while innocent people die."
"Even if it means going against our parents' wishes," Nathaniel added, his tone resolute.
Isabella's eyes flicked to the window, where the faint outline of the new moon was visible. "We stop them tonight. No one else is dying."
That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Isabella's phone buzzed. Bella's voice came through, tinged with urgency.
"Alice saw something," Bella said. "Blood. Shapeshifters. And you were there."
Isabella's stomach twisted. "Mom, I—"
"No," Bella interrupted. "We're coming. Edward, Emmett, everyone. We'll be there soon."
Isabella hung up the phone with a frustrated sigh, Bella's warning still ringing in her ears. She dropped the phone onto her desk and leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling. The weight of the conversation pressed down on her, her mom's concern and Alice's vision sparking a new wave of anxiety.
Her eyes drifted toward Claire's bed, expecting to see her girlfriend asleep or studying. Instead, the bed was empty.
Isabella frowned. "Claire?" she called softly. No answer.
She checked the time on her phone—well past nine. Claire would've been back by now. Isabella got up and crossed the room, noticing that Claire's books and bag were still untouched on her desk. Her heart sank.
Grabbing her phone, she dialed Claire's number. The line rang and rang before going to voicemail. She tried again, her fingers trembling slightly. Still nothing.
"Where are you?" she whispered, the panic beginning to creep in.
Isabella closed her eyes and concentrated, letting her vampire senses take over. She focused on the familiar, comforting rhythm of Claire's heartbeat, scanning through the ambient noise of the school—the hum of heating vents, the distant sound of footsteps in the halls, muffled conversations. But she couldn't hear it.
Her eyes snapped open, her pulse racing. Claire wasn't in the building.
"No, no, no," Isabella muttered, grabbing her coat and keys. She bolted out of the dorm and down the hall, the cold night air biting at her face as she ran.
Within moments, she reached Juliette's dorm and banged on the door.
Juliette opened it, startled by Isabella's urgency. "What's wrong?"
Isabella didn't waste a second. "Claire's gone. I can't hear her heartbeat anywhere. We need to move, now."
Juliette's face hardened as Elliot and Nathaniel appeared behind her, alerted by the commotion.
Without another word, the four of them left the dorm, their expressions grim as they sped into the night toward the woods, knowing the danger was already closer than they'd feared.