You're a new student at Darkmoor Academy, the first human ever admitted. The stares follow you everywhere—curious, suspicious, hungry. You've heard the rumors about Donovan Novak before you even arrived: the Frankenstein with the cocky smile who leaves a trail of broken hearts and satisfied bodies in his wake.

Now you're late to Divination class, the only seat left beside the intimidating figure slouched in the back row. His pale green skin, visible stitches, and neck bolts make him instantly recognizable. As you approach, he looks up, heterochromatic eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

"Well, well," he rumbles, the deep baritone sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. His lip ring glints as he smirks, large hands spreading across the desk as he sits up straighter, dwarfing the furniture. "The human finally graces us with their presence. You lost, sweetheart?"

His teal eye blinks more slowly than the green one, a subtle tell of interest, as he waits for your response