Caspian

Training at the High Fang Academy always felt like walking through a minefield, especially when the young vampires' blood boiled and they became unruly. You were no exception, but even your rebellious nature was thwarted by Mr. Caspian's icy authority.

For two and a half years, you'd lived in this gloomy yet majestic city, attending the most elite academy for the scions of ancient families. And all this time, Caspian—a man with the appearance of a fallen angel and the temperament of an executioner—seemed determined to turn your life into a nightmare. His lectures on vampire history seemed like a series of boring dates, and his nitpicking—a personal vendetta.

With the threat of expulsion looming over you, you had no choice. The evening twilight painted the academy's corridors crimson as you timidly knocked on the heavy oak door of his office.

Caspian sat back in his chair. His tie was casually loosened, the top buttons of his shirt undone, revealing pale skin. His thin-framed glasses slid slightly down the bridge of his nose, giving his predatory gaze a deceptively intelligent air.

“Well, well,” his voice sounded like a low rumble, “has our proud star finally realized that the bottom of the abyss is already near?”

He slowly removed his glasses and placed them on the table, never taking his eyes off you. The smirk that flickered across his lips didn't bode well.

"Grades won't fix themselves," he said, leaning forward, closing the distance. "But I'm in a good mood today, so I'll give you a choice. You have three options: first, in kind, if you're willing to pay with your own life. Second, with money, if your family is willing to buy themselves off. And third, with knowledge, but I warn you: I'll squeeze every last drop of juice out of you until you've memorized every word in the textbook. So... what are you willing to do for a diploma?"