Light split the heavens like shattered glass, a jagged rift of gold and fire. And through that blinding brilliance, Semira fell.
She wasn't falling like a human might—no screaming, no terror. Just stillness. Poise. Silent, glowing descent. Her wings burned with ethereal fire, glowing feathers fluttering in the air, leaving trails of light. Her white garment shimmered, caught in the winds of heaven, flowing like water.
"Reveal nothing. Observe everything. Do not stray from the mission."
The voice, cold and divine, rang in her mind.
And then—thud.
Semira crashed to the earth. Her wings disappeared into the ether, her garment softened into something more human—more like the creatures she had been sent to protect. She stood up, dusting herself off, looking around. There was something heavy about this place—strange, loud, a buzz in the air.
A football stadium. A school field. Boys yelling. Girls laughing. The smell of sweat, grass, and something deep-fried in the air.
She adjusted the book in her hands, the glowing pages flickering before they hid into the mundane, leather-bound exterior. She could already feel the weight of human eyes, pulling her closer into their world.
And then, she saw him.
Christian Ryder.
He stormed past her, his tall, broad frame cutting through the chaos. His dark eyes were filled with arrogance, anger, and a whole lot of attitude. Christian wasn't looking for answers. He was looking for a fight.
"You're not supposed to be here," he muttered, but not to anyone in particular. It was clear he wasn't interested in talking to anyone, especially some strange girl standing in the back of the school field. The coach yelled something about discipline, but Christian didn't care. He wasn't the kind of guy who listened to orders.
With a sharp flick of his wrist, he tossed the football to the ground and stormed off, muttering curses under his breath. His hands were clenched, fists tight against the pressure of his life.
Semira stood there, watching him. There was something different about him. Something that drew her in. Her heart skipped a beat.
You must be the one.
She wasn't supposed to feel this. But the warmth, the pull—it was real. His soul called to hers.
It had to be him.
Christian turned around and caught her staring at him. His eyes narrowed.
"Are you lost or just dumb?" he called out to her, smirking like he owned the world.
Semira blinked, her cheeks flushing with confusion. "I'm... trying to find my way."
Christian let out a laugh that was half arrogant, half mocking. "Well, good luck with that, sweetheart. People here can barely find their own way out of this mess, let alone lead someone else."
She stood taller, despite his dismissive tone. "I can manage."
"Yeah, sure," he said, shaking his head. "Whatever. You'll figure it out. Stay out of trouble, though."
And with that, he turned and walked away, not even giving her a second glance.
---
Semira watched him go, her mind racing. She didn't know why, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was supposed to keep an eye on him. Maybe this mission wasn't as simple as she'd hoped.
She heard footsteps behind her, snapping her out of her thoughts.
Two girls walked toward her, chattering away in loud voices. One of them, a girl with dark braids, looked her over curiously. "Hey, are you lost or something?"
Semira, still unsure of how to speak to humans, nodded slowly. "I'm... lost. Trying to find my way."
The girl in front—Mara, from what Semira could hear—laughed. "Well, you've come to the right place. We were looking for a roommate anyway. You're not one of those weird, scary people, are you?"
Semira blinked. "Weird?"
"Yeah, you look like you came out of some weird storybook." Mara chuckled and waved a hand, brushing the comment off. "We just need someone to help with the rent. You're not a troublemaker, right?"
Semira blinked again, still trying to understand. "I'm... just a girl. Like you."
Mara grinned. "Well, in that case, welcome to the family. We've got a room open."
But then Clara, the second girl, who had been quiet up until now, stepped forward. She crossed her arms, studying Semira with skepticism in her eyes. "Wait, hold on a second. We don't even know who you are. What's your story?"
"I—I'm just looking for a place to stay," Semira said, feeling a slight tension rise in the air.
Clara didn't look convinced. "Right. And you just happened to show up in the back of the school, in the middle of nowhere? Doesn't sound like 'just looking for a place' to me."
Semira felt a sudden chill. "I'm just... lost," she repeated, her voice softer.
Mara rolled her eyes at Clara. "Don't be so harsh. She's just a kid. Let her stay."
Clara raised an eyebrow. "And what if she's got some weird agenda?"
"Clara, you're always so suspicious. Lighten up a little. If she's weird, we'll find out soon enough. Let's just get her inside."
Clara crossed her arms, still unconvinced. "Fine. But if she starts acting funny, I'm out. I don't need any trouble."
Mara looked at Semira with a warm smile. "Don't worry about Clara. She's just... cautious. You'll be fine."
Semira nodded, a little relieved. "Thank you," she said quietly.
"Well, you're welcome to wait for us," Mara continued. "We'll be back after school. Just don't wander off."
Semira nodded again, feeling the weight of the book pressed to her chest. It felt heavier now.
As the two girls walked away, Semira's gaze drifted back to the field. She caught a glimpse of Christian again.
His eyes locked with hers for a moment. That same pull, that same warmth.
But then he turned and disappeared into the school.
later that evening
The Ryder dining room was painfully quiet, save for the soft clinking of cutlery and the occasional clearing of a throat. Christian sat at the far end of the polished mahogany table, opposite his father—the ever-stern Mr. Ryder, who never seemed pleased with anything.
His mother, Stephanie, tried to ease the air with her usual nervous chatter, while his younger sister, Becca, poked at her peas with exaggerated boredom.
Maria moved silently in the background, setting plates and pouring drinks. At a glance, she looked like any other housemaid. But Christian knew better. She was his age. And more than once, she had spent nights in his room, under the excuse of "cleaning." He barely looked her way now, but he could feel her presence behind him—quiet, watchful.
"Christian," his father said sharply, "your coach called again. Care to explain why you left practice mid-game?"
Christian leaned back in his chair, arms folded. "Didn't feel like running around like a circus act. Not today."
His father's jaw tightened. "It's called discipline. Something you lack. You don't just walk away from responsibility."
Christian smirked. "Responsibility? Funny coming from someone who's barely around."
Stephanie gasped. "Christian!"
Becca snorted into her drink. "Well, at least I didn't have a bag full of condoms at school."
Christian's smirk faded. "What the hell, Becca?"
Becca grinned. "Oops. Was I not supposed to say that? I found them when I was looking for my crayons. I thought they were balloons at first." She turned to her mother with wide, innocent eyes. "What's a condom, Mommy?"
Stephanie froze, eyes darting to Christian. "Christian…?"
Before he could speak, Christian subtly shifted, nudging Maria's leg under the table with his foot. She stepped forward like she was clearing his plate, but her hand reached beneath the table just long enough to take something—an old, folded piece of paper, aged and yellowed, passed with the smoothness of habit.
No one saw it, except Becca.
"I knew it!" she shouted. "He's always sneaking stuff to her! You think I don't see you two creeping around?"
Maria stiffened.
Mr. Ryder stood abruptly. "Maria, is there something we should be informed of?"
She hesitated, eyes flicking to Christian, then murmured, "I'll check on dessert."
She hurried out.
"Sit down," his father ordered, his voice like iron. "You're not leaving this table until you explain yourself."
Christian leaned forward, his voice low. "Explain what? That I have a life you can't control? That I'm not some little soldier you can bark orders at?"
"You're under my roof," his father growled. "You'll follow my rules or you'll get out."
"Fine," Christian said, rising. "Maybe I will."
Stephanie looked panicked. "Christian, don't do this—"
But he was already walking out, grabbing his jacket and slamming the front door behind him.
He needed air.
He needed distance.
And somewhere, his thoughts drifted back to her—the girl with those glowing eyes, like starlight. Maybe that strange girl behind the school was the only one who hadn't judged him yet.
And maybe… she was the only one who should.
The sun was setting when Christian made his way back to the field. He needed to find answers.
He saw them again—Semira, laughing awkwardly with the girls, her book tucked under her arm. She looked... real now. Human. Ordinary. But he knew something was off.
He hesitated, then called out, "Hey!"
They all turned. Mara waved lazily, but Clara raised an eyebrow. "Oh, great. It's Mr. Handsome again."
Semira just glanced at him. "Hello again."
Christian stared at her, his eyes flicking over her. There was something so genuine about her. Something he didn't understand. But the arrogance that ran through his veins kept him from admitting it.
"Uh, hey," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "You need a ride or something? You're hanging out with these two—probably not a good idea."
She shrugged. "I'm fine."
But he felt something shift in him, something subtle, and deeper than he'd ever allowed himself to feel.
Above them, a shadow moved across the sky. Silent. Watching.