The morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, painting faint golden streaks across Isabella's room. She stirred, groaning softly as the memories of the previous night resurfaced. The party had been chaotic—Nathaniel and Elliot's first brush with being drunk, Juliette's close call with that guy, and her own encounter with Nick. Shaking off the grogginess, she reached for her phone on the nightstand.

Her fingers tapped across the screen as she opened their group chat. "Everyone alive? Nathaniel, Elliot—how's the hangover? Juliette, you good?"

Within seconds, replies flooded in.

Elliot: "Barely alive. Send help (and coffee)."

Nathaniel: "Isabella, if I ever drink again, punch me. Please."

Juliette: "I'm fine. Thanks, Bella. For everything."

Satisfied with their responses, Isabella set the phone down and rolled out of bed. She padded across the small dorm room, rubbing her face as she glanced at Claire, her roommate. Claire, perched at her desk with her laptop open, glanced up, offering a reserved but kind smile.

"Morning," Isabella greeted, her voice still heavy with sleep.

"Morning," Claire replied, her tone soft but warm. "You were pretty quiet when you came in last night. Did you have fun at the party?"

Isabella hesitated, her thoughts flitting back to the chaos. "It was… eventful," she admitted, forcing a small smile. "Sorry if I woke you coming in."

"You didn't," Claire said, her smile widening just slightly. "It's fine. Have a good day."

"You too," Isabella replied before heading toward the small bathroom to get ready for class.

In front of the mirror, Isabella washed her face and brushed her teeth, still mulling over everything from the previous night. She slipped in her contacts, wincing slightly as the lenses settled over her mismatched eyes, masking their amber-red hue. Dressed in a black, long-sleeve jumpsuit paired with beige ruffle socks and Ugg boots, she let her dark hair cascade naturally down her back. A touch of mascara and a swipe of pink lip gloss completed her look.

Grabbing her backpack, she glanced at Claire one more time, who offered another small, quiet smile. Isabella returned it before stepping out of the dorm and heading toward class.

The campus was alive with activity as Isabella made her way to her literature class. The crisp autumn air carried the faint scent of damp leaves and freshly brewed coffee from the nearby café. Students buzzed around her, some chattering about last night's party, others rushing to their classes.

She slipped into the classroom just as the clock struck nine, taking a seat in the middle row. The room smelled faintly of old books and coffee, a comforting mix. Dr. Cross stood at the front, his tailored suit immaculate, his every movement precise. His dark hair was combed back neatly, and his piercing blue eyes scanned the room with an intensity that made Isabella shiver.

"Good morning, class," he began, his voice smooth and commanding. "Today, we delve into the myths and legends that have shaped humanity's perception of the supernatural."

As he spoke, Isabella felt his gaze linger on her for a fraction too long. She shifted in her seat, her fingers drumming lightly on the desk.

He wove a tale of ancient creatures—vampires, werewolves, and other beings of myth—his words weaving a spell over the room.

"Legends often stem from a kernel of truth," he said, his eyes sweeping across the class. "And sometimes, truth is stranger than fiction."

The students were captivated, but Isabella couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't just reciting history. He was speaking from experience.

Near the end of the lecture, a student in the front row accidentally knocked their coffee off the desk. Before the cup hit the floor, Dr. Cross caught it, his movements so swift and smooth it seemed inhuman. Not a single drop spilled.

The class erupted in murmurs, a few students clapping in amazement. Isabella froze, her suspicions deepening.

The dining hall buzzed with energy as Isabella slid into a booth across from Elliot, Juliette, and Nathaniel. A tray of food sat untouched in front of her as she recounted the morning's events.

"He's too perfect," she said, her voice low. "Like, inhumanly perfect. He caught a coffee cup mid-air without spilling a drop. And the way he talks about mythical creatures? It's like he knows something."

Elliot rolled his eyes, biting into a sandwich. "Bella, if there were any other supernatural creatures around, Mom and Dad would've told us. They wouldn't have let us come here otherwise."

Juliette smirked, stirring her iced coffee. "Maybe he's just a really coordinated nerd."

Nathaniel leaned back in his chair. "Or maybe you're reading too much into it. You've always had a thing for mysteries."

Isabella shook her head. "I'm telling you, there's something off about him. I'm going to keep an eye on him."

Elliot sighed. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope," Isabella said firmly.

Her phone buzzed, and she stepped away to answer.

"Hi, Mom," she said, a smile in her voice.

"Hi, sweetheart. Just checking in. You and Elliot okay?" Bella's voice was warm, with a hint of worry.

"We're fine," Isabella said, glancing at her brother.

Edward's voice chimed in. "Let us know if anything seems off, all right?"

"Of course," Isabella said, but she didn't mention Dr. Cross.

The moon hung low in the sky as Isabella slipped out of her dorm, her boots crunching softly against the gravel path. She hadn't gotten far when Elliot appeared, hands in his pockets.

"You really thought I wouldn't notice?" he said, falling into step beside her.

"I don't need a babysitter," she muttered.

"I'm not babysitting. I'm protecting. There's a difference," Elliot said. "If you think something's wrong, I'm not letting you face it alone."

They followed Dr. Cross from a distance, the cool night air tingling against their skin. He walked with purpose, disappearing into the woods at the edge of campus.

Hidden among the trees, they watched as Dr. Cross met with a cloaked figure. Their hushed voices carried fragments of conversation.

"They're getting too close," one said.

"We must act soon," the other replied.

Isabella pulled out her phone to snap a picture, ignoring Elliot's whispered protests. She pressed the button—only to realize the flash was on.

A blinding burst of light illuminated the clearing. Dr. Cross's head snapped toward them, his blue eyes glowing faintly. He moved with terrifying speed, closing the distance between them in seconds.

"Run!" Isabella hissed, but before she could move, Elliot grabbed her arm.

The world blurred as he teleported them back to the courtyard, the cool air replaced by the familiar warmth of campus lights.

"You're insane," Elliot said, his voice shaking. "That guy could've killed us!"

"But now we know," Isabella said, clutching her phone.

The blurry photo showed Dr. Cross and the cloaked figure, their faces obscured but their ominous presence undeniable.