Chapter Two
Colton's POV
I walked away, a tangle of embarrassment and frustration swirling within me. I hadn't meant to come across as rude, but the situation was utterly baffling. Oxford, already prestigious in its own right, was elevated to another level by our society – Arkhaios. The entrance into our ranks was tightly bound to a specific lineage, to those of vampire blood.
My thoughts were consumed by the enigma that was Isabella. Why had she been chosen? None of it added up. Oxford was a sanctuary in our world, an institution where Purebloods and their Bittens coexisted alongside human students, unaware of our existence. But Isabella was no ordinary human – she was a vampire, and she would shift within the next year.
Arkhaios was closed to outsiders, open only to those of Pureblood lineage. We were governed by hierarchy and order, our society upheld by the royal families. As a Pureblood myself, I nearly hadn't made the cut. Purebloods were not immortals – our lifespan was extended to thousands of years by the blood disease that coursed through our veins. We craved clean human blood, yes, but our mortality was a fact.
Two types of vampires existed: Purebloods, born to both parents with the genetic disease, and Bittens, turned by force. Bittens were weaker than us, born without our bloodline. And only Pureblood children could be born to Pureblood parents, keeping our families the highest echelon of society.
Twelve royal families governed our world, the royal court intervening in global affairs when necessary. Oxford, a haven, hosted Purebloods, their Bittens, and the finest human minds. We coexisted, humans none the wiser.
Yet, Isabella's presence shattered the norm. Who was she, a girl with no family ties, ushered into our secretive society? I reached my destination, knocking at the headmaster's door.
"Colton, come in" he told me. Our headmaster had the ability, like me, to read others minds. Since he could read my mind, we skipped all of the small talk.
"You missed our meeting last night" he stated bluntly.
"My father needed me to attend to some business" I replied.
"It was a crucial meeting. As a prominent society member, I expect you to stay informed."
"Isabella, you've met her," he said, preempting my questions.
"If you had been at the meeting, your queries would be answered."
Her identity, her reasons – they all remained a puzzle. Why would a human girl be inducted into Arkhaios, a society for Purebloods? I almost questioned it aloud, but the headmaster addressed it himself.
"Isabella is a royal Pureblood. I'd been searching for her. An interview for a promising student brought her to my attention," he said, his thoughts laid bare.
"Her power is staggering, radiating even in her human form," he continued. "But her background raises questions."
"Why was a royal child orphaned?" I inquired, mystified. Purebloods were revered, rare, honored – their families rarely bore children.
"She's a Medici," he disclosed.
The revelation struck me. The Medici family, the thirteenth royal lineage, was once the mightiest until they were condemned for war crimes.
"They were all executed," I gasped.
"Her mother vanished eighteen years ago, pregnant. She must've given birth in secret. Trusted few know the truth," the headmaster explained.
"Why is she here?" I protested. The Medicis' dark history would attract retribution from the other royal families, especially my own, who fought against them.
"She's here as my guest. I have royal court approval for her four-year stay," he said. "Isabella is unaware of her lineage or our kind."
"She's a human student now, but she'll shift soon. The infection will take over," I warned.
"I am in control of her stay. No one is to inform her of her heritage until she's ready," he clarified. "You will oversee her acclimation."
"Why me?" I questioned.
"Because she exhibits signs of exceptional power, much like you once did," he answered.
"I need a favor," he continued, my irritation growing as I anticipated his request.
"Anything," I replied reluctantly.
"Involve her in Arkhaios," he said. My internal alarms blared.
"But she's human!" I protested.
"I've secured permission. You will invite her as your date," he declared.
"I barely know her," I exclaimed.
"Form a relationship with her. Our world hinges on Pureblood partnerships, and Arkhaios embodies that. Your father agrees," he said, leaving me seething.
"She's not ready," I argued.
"Your involvement will be a stepping stone. The royal court expects you to guide her into our society," he asserted.
"Fine," I said, infuriated. I was no puppet.
"Spencer will assist you," he mentioned. I clenched my fists, trying to suppress my anger.
"You'll form a bond with her, make her comfortable," he instructed. "Welcome her to Arkhaios."
"I'll consider it," I said, fuming, turning to exit his office. I was so freaking angry. In my kingdom, no one ever dared to speak to me this way.
"I'll consider it," I managed to grit out through my teeth, suppressing the fiery resentment that coursed through me. Turning sharply, I strode toward the door, my anger a smoldering ember threatening to burst into a raging inferno. In my kingdom, no one had ever dared to address me with such audacity.
The headmaster's response was chillingly calm, his voice cutting through the tension. "If you want to remain at the University after what you did last year, young man, I suggest that you follow my orders."
My hackles raised, the hair on the back of my neck prickling. How dare he threaten me? The very thought churned my anger into an almost palpable force. My hand rested on the door frame, a mix of emotions swirling within me.
“I am a KING!” I declared, my words like ice, the chill in the air matching the icy undertone in my voice.
"Here you are a student," he retorted, his tone firm and unyielding. "Consider Isabella a consequence of your actions. A lesson, perhaps, for a young king accustomed to privilege. Oxford is more than a mere playground for you. It is an institution with rules."
His words hung in the air like an unspoken challenge, the truth they contained weighing heavily on my heart. As much as I hated to admit it, I cherished this Academy more than I cared to show. It was a place where I had friends who understood the complexities of my world and my responsibilities. Among them were fellow royals and Bittens, individuals who didn't see me merely as a ruler, but as Rhysand. And that, for all its pitfalls, was a rarity I couldn't easily cast aside.
Moreover, the headmaster had tapped into something that resonated deep within me – the desire to prove myself, to show that I wasn't merely a king, but someone who could take on challenges. My father's incessant demands to find a submissive partner would hopefully subside if I entertained the notion of getting to know Isabella better. She wasn't entirely unattractive, after all. And the thought of witnessing her astonishment when she realized I could command her submission was an enticing prospect.
I glanced back at the headmaster, my expression a mixture of begrudging acceptance and obstinate defiance. "I'll do it," I conceded, my words laced with both reluctance and a simmering determination.
With that, I exited the office, my thoughts a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The Academy still offered the solace of blood and alcohol, a comfort in this stifling situation. Yet, as much as I resisted it, a begrudging acknowledgment seeped in – this place, this institution, held a significant sway over me, and the headmaster knew it all too well.
At least blood alcohol still exsisted in this prison.