Iris's POV

Professor Green's dismissal rang out like a pardon from the governor.

Students scrambled to pack their bags, dodging the back row like it carried the plague as they stampeded toward the exit.

I stayed put.

Cassian had already risen, his robes cutting a harsh arc through the air.

He didn't look at me. Didn't even pause for a second. Just walked straight out of the classroom.

I stared at the quill lying intact on my desk before reaching out to pick it up.

Not a single crack marred the shaft. The enchanted ink sat quietly in its reservoir.

Remembering that gentle yet powerful force from earlier, my suspicion solidified into certainty.

Rumor painted him as a dangerous lunatic, a monster who brought misfortune wherever he went.

But why would a monster use such precise control to save someone in danger? If he were truly heartless, he could've just sat there and watched the enchanted ink destroy my eyes.

His coldness felt more like deliberate camouflage—protective coloring.

I carefully tucked the quill into my bag, making a quiet decision.

---

At noon, Bliston Academy's dining hall buzzed with life.

White clouds drifted beneath the vaulted ceiling, sunlight filtering through them to spill across four long oak tables.

New students mingled with upperclassmen, all discussing the morning's classes.

I carried my tray—loaded with roast meat and mashed potatoes—scanning the crowd.

It didn't take long to spot him.

Cassian sat in the deepest corner of the hall.

That area was like a quarantined zone. With him at its center, the surrounding two tables sat completely empty.

Even though the dining hall was packed, no one dared venture near.

He sat alone, head bowed as he cut into his steak, silver hair falling over his forehead. Everything about him screamed stay away—a lonely, unapproachable island.

I took a deep breath and started walking toward him.

"Iris! Where are you going?" Wendy grabbed my sleeve from behind. Following my line of sight, her face went white. "Are you insane? Don't go over there!"

"I'm just having lunch." I patted her hand reassuringly, gave her a smile, then pulled free and kept walking.

As I approached, the surrounding chatter gradually died down.

Countless eyes locked onto me, filled with the horror of watching someone walk to their death.

I ignored those stares, walked straight to the seat across from Cassian, set down my tray, pulled out the chair, and sat down with complete composure.

The sound of his knife and fork scraping against porcelain stopped.

Cassian slowly lifted his head. Those dark gold eyes held no surprise—only undisguised ice and a trace of irritation.

"Don't you understand plain English?" His voice came out low, laced with dangerous pressure.

I picked up my fork, speared a piece of mashed potato, and put it in my mouth. After swallowing, I met his gaze. "My name is Iris Vance. This morning in class, you might not have heard me clearly, so I'm introducing myself again."

He set down his utensils and leaned back slightly against his chair.

He studied me with that all-seeing gaze, like he was looking at a fool with a death wish.

"You think this is some kind of playground?" He let out a cold laugh, the corner of his mouth curving into a mocking arc. "Do you actually have no idea who I am?"

"I know. Cassian Hastings." I answered calmly.

"There's more than that." He leaned forward slightly, crossing his hands on the table, those dark gold pupils locking onto mine. "I'm a phoenix shifter."

Those few words seemed to drop the temperature of the surrounding air by several degrees.

He stared into my eyes, trying to capture fear in them. "If you know what a phoenix is, you should know it doesn't just represent the sacred—it represents destruction. Five years ago, when my bloodline first awakened, that power was completely uncontrollable."

His voice remained even, like he was telling someone else's story, but every word carried the scent of blood.

"I burned down an entire Muggle city. Tens of thousands displaced. Half the sky turned red. The Ministry sent thirteen elite Aurors just to barely subdue me." He paused, his eyes turning aggressive. "I'm an omen of disaster. A monster. The fire inside me could spiral out of control at any moment. People who get close to me either burn to ash or get dragged down by association. So now—do you still want to sit here and be my friend?"

He'd laid out the cruelest truth, waiting to watch me run.

I sat where I was, looking at him.

Flames danced in those eyes—seemingly fierce, but deep down I saw a kind of self-loathing exhaustion.

So this was what he carried. Because of one loss of control, he'd been branded a monster, feared and isolated by everyone.

He pushed people away—maybe not out of arrogance, but out of fear of losing control again and hurting innocent people.

I listened quietly to the end, then set down my fork.

"So you act this mean on purpose just to scare people off?" I looked at him, my tone serious.

Cassian froze. His brow furrowed, as if he hadn't expected this reaction.

"You didn't hear me? I could kill someone." He emphasized the words, a flash of annoyance crossing his eyes.

"But you saved me this morning. And last night at the West Tower, you saved me then too." I held his gaze without backing down. "I don't care what the rumors say. I only believe what I see with my own eyes. You haven't hurt me, Cassian. You're not a monster."

The silence around us was deafening.

He stared at me for a long, long time. That hard shell of ice in his eyes seemed to crack—just slightly—in that moment.

We stayed locked in that standoff.

A few seconds later, he looked away, muttering something under his breath.

Then, slowly, he raised his right hand and reached across the table, stopping in front of me.

That hand was long-fingered, elegant.

"Cassian Hastings." His voice was still cold, but some of the guardedness had faded.

I smiled. I immediately reached out and clasped his hand firmly.

"Nice to meet you."

His palm was large, warm—radiating a kind of reassuring heat.

Our handshake was brief, barely a touch before we let go, but it was enough.

I knew it. The wall of ice between us had finally been broken.

---

The afternoon brought Transformation Basics.

Class was held in the circular amphitheater on the castle's second floor.

There were no desks or chairs—just thick navy carpet covering the floor, walls lined with portraits of various animals and magical creatures.

The instructor was Professor McGuffin, a thin, wiry old man wearing a monocle.

He stood in the center of the hall, gripping a walnut wand.

"Transformation is the most rigorous, complex, and dangerous branch of magic." Professor McGuffin's voice echoed through the cavernous hall with undeniable authority. "It requires absolute control of your magical power and profound understanding of your own structure. One misstep, and you'll become some half-human, half-beast abomination—permanently."

He flicked his wand. The tall copper goblet on the podium instantly twisted and reformed into a white dove that fluttered up toward the dome.

The new students gasped in amazement.

"Today, we won't be transforming external objects. We'll only work on the most basic self-transformation guidance." The professor turned, his wand tracing several golden trails through the air. A line of ancient Latin incantation materialized mid-air.

"This is the phrase that awakens your transformation potential. Close your eyes, concentrate, feel the power in your blood. Don't resist it—flow with it. Then recite this incantation."

The hall gradually quieted as everyone closed their eyes and began attempting the exercise.

I stood at the edge of the crowd, staring at that line of golden text floating in the air.

The memory of last night—that tearing sensation as wings erupted from my back after jumping from the tower—surged back to life.

Sev had said I was special.

I took a deep breath and slowly closed my eyes.

I tried to empty my mind, to sense that unknown thing inside me. Then I opened my mouth and, following the professor's instructions, softly recited the incantation.

I waited expectantly for that tearing pain to return to my back, or for any sign of magical energy stirring.

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds...

Nothing happened.

Excited gasps and chatter erupted throughout the hall.

I opened my eyes to see red flamingo feathers sprouting from Wendy's arms. A boy in the front row had grown a pair of fuzzy rabbit ears. Even the clumsiest chubby kid had managed to turn his nose into a pig snout.

And me? I remained an entirely unchanged, ordinary person.