Mark's POV
I noticed her the moment she stepped into Holy Saint School.
Not because she was loud.
But because she wasn't.
Most students carry noise with them—laughter, arrogance, fear.
She carried silence. Controlled. Observant.
Dangerous in a way people never suspect.
Jasper Jean Mariano.
Transfer student.
Eighth standard.
Light-green eyes.
And the moment those eyes met mine for the first time, something old and buried inside my blood reacted.
That was the first warning.
I don't interfere with juniors.
Ever.
That rule has kept me alive longer than most people realize.
But that evening—when I saw them corner her on the road, hands raised, intentions filthy—my body moved before my mind did.
Because the second warning came then.
The air changed.
A pressure settled in my chest, sharp and familiar, like a blade turning inside my ribs.
She's important.
That voice wasn't mine.
It never is.
I still remembered the look in her eyes when she collapsed.
Not weakness.
Shock.
Her body froze, but her spirit didn't break.
When I knelt in front of her, when I told her she was safe, the strange pull intensified.
I could feel something coiled beneath her skin—sleeping, unaware.
Untouched.
Good.
Very few bloodlines stay untouched this long.
Now, standing outside her classroom during supervision, I watched her again.
She answered questions with ease.
Defended herself with calm sarcasm.
Never raised her voice.
The class laughed with her, not at her.
She didn't know it yet—but she was already changing the balance around her.
That was dangerous.
For her.
For me.
When I called her name in the corridor, her reaction confirmed everything.
No fear.
Just awareness.
She looked at me like she was trying to understand what I was.
That unsettled me more than it should have.
"You're intelligent," I told her. That wasn't flattery—it was assessment.
She didn't deny it.
Good.
Denial is weakness.
When she said my name—Mark—something inside me tightened violently.
I stepped back immediately.
Distance matters.
Because if I stay too close to her—
They will notice.
Jay Jay's POV
I didn't know why, but after talking to him, my heart wouldn't slow down.
Not fluttering.
Not excitement.
Something deeper.
Like standing near a storm you don't understand but can't walk away from.
That night, Mama's voice drifted through the house again—low, urgent.
"Her symptoms haven't started yet," she said into the phone. "That's a blessing. Don't force fate."
Symptoms?
My fingers curled into the bedsheet.
What didn't I know about myself?
Mark's POV
The council chamber beneath the old building smelled of stone and iron.
Ancient.
Protective seals glowed faintly along the walls—runes older than this school, older than this city.
"You're distracted," one of the elders said coldly. "That's dangerous, Mark Watson."
I didn't respond.
"Your blood reacted," another continued.
"We felt it. Why?"
I exhaled slowly. "A junior."
Silence.
Then laughter.
"A child?" someone scoffed.
"Yes," I said flatly. "And she carries something dormant."
The room stilled.
"Name," the head elder demanded.
I hesitated.
"…Mariano."
That was the third warning.
Every symbol in the chamber flared red.
"That's impossible," someone whispered.
"That bloodline was erased."
"Or hidden," another corrected slowly.
My jaw tightened.
"So you know," I said.
The elder's gaze sharpened.
"If she is who we think she is, proximity alone could awaken her."
I thought of her green eyes.
Her quiet defiance. The way she looked at the world like it owed her nothing.
"She doesn't know," I said.
"She must never," the elder replied immediately.
"If she awakens, enemies will come. And this time… they won't miss."
I clenched my fists.
"And if I stay away?" I asked.
"That may already be too late," he said softly.
Jay Jay's POV
The next day, I felt it.
Something was wrong.
Not pain.
Not fear.
A strange warmth under my skin—like my blood was humming quietly, responding to something unseen.
When I passed Mark in the corridor, the feeling spiked.
He stopped walking.
So did I.
For a second, the world went silent.
He looked… tense.
Almost afraid.
"You should go home early today," he said abruptly.
"Why?" I asked.
His eyes searched my face, as if confirming something only he could see.
"Just trust me," he said.
I nodded.
I didn't know why.
But I trusted him more than I trusted myself.
This thought and this feeling like..something I can't explain even to my self come to my mind that how can I trust someone else except my mom but I like the way the things will happening recently around me and I'll accept my heart then my mind whoever my mind always give me alert notification but I let it be..
Mark's POV
That was the moment I knew.
The bond had already formed.
Unintentional.
Ancient.
Dangerous.
I was supposed to protect her from the dark.
But what if—
She was born from it?
As she walked away, the mark beneath my collarbone burned—a symbol of my lineage responding to hers.
Enemy's daughter.
Or…
The key to ending everything.
I closed my eyes.
This wasn't a crush. I know from the way she look at me that she like me but I can't consider her more then responsibility i know she is younger then me so how can I....
This was fate sharpening its knife.
And I was standing directly in its path.