Chapter 2: The Hunter's Son Watches

Later, I found out Caleb was the son of the head of the Hunter Academy. Figures. Just my luck.

I sighed. First day, and I’d already pissed off a big shot. Of course. Couldn’t have picked a more dangerous roommate if I tried.

Ever since Caleb called me a pervert, he watched me with cold eyes. Like he was just waiting for me to slip up.

Like he was on guard for something. Living with him was like living with a loaded gun—every second a risk.

It kept me on edge, every day. I jumped at every noise, every glance he threw my way.

Even my freeze-dried blood packs had to be smuggled into the bathroom while he showered. I’d become a pro at hiding them—slipping them into my towel or hoodie pocket.

Finally, I waited for Caleb to finish his shower. Pressed my ear to the door, counting down the seconds.

I rushed in with my freeze-dried blood and towel. My hands shook as I tore open the package. The smell hit me, hard.

I whispered to myself, “Smells so good…” The words slipped out—a prayer and a curse.

An hour later, I was flushed pink from the steam. The mirror fogged over, hiding my face.

Only after I was sure there was no trace of blood scent did I dare open the door. I sniffed the air, heart pounding, praying Caleb wouldn’t notice.

I didn’t expect Caleb to be right there, leaning against the door. His gaze weighed on me. “Eli, every time you shower you take forever, and I keep hearing you mutter about how good something smells. Are you doing something sketchy in there?” His words were sharp, but his eyes flickered—curiosity? Suspicion?

My heart pounded. Crap, was he eavesdropping on my showers now? I felt exposed—like he could see right through me.

Could he actually smell blood? Did hunters have that kind of sense? My mind raced.

I straightened up. “No.” Too fast. Too defensive.

Still, I couldn’t meet his eyes. My face flushed hot. I stared at the floor, wishing I could disappear.

His ears turned red, too. “Little pervert,” he snapped. The insult stung, but there was a hint of embarrassment.

Then he turned and walked away. I stood in the doorway, towel clutched to my chest, trying to catch my breath.

But as long as my identity stayed hidden…

He could call me whatever he wanted. I’d take it, if it meant staying alive.

I didn’t expect a knock on the door while I was sneaking a snack in the bathroom. My hands were sticky with blood, panic rising in my throat.

Caleb’s cold voice came from outside: “Open up. I need to check something.” No room for argument.

Me, mid-blood snack: “Huh?” Tried to sound casual, but my voice cracked.

I fumbled so badly I almost choked. Blood caught in my throat—bitter and sweet.

After a struggle, I spit out the freeze-dried blood. It hit the porcelain with a dull thud. Tragic.

I watched helplessly as it rolled down the drain. My dinner, gone in a swirl of water. I wanted to cry.

Damn! I clenched my fists, frustration boiling over. The universe was out to get me—or so it felt.

No time to grieve. The pounding continued. Caleb’s patience was running thin.

“Eli, I’m counting to three. If you don’t open up, I’ll break the door down.” Flat. Deadly serious.

“Three.” The word echoed—heavy as a gavel.

I hurried to flush the water, scrubbed at the sink—desperate to erase any trace.

“Two.” Closer now. Seconds ticking like a bomb.

Most of the smell was gone. Just a faint metallic trace. I prayed it wasn’t enough to give me away.

“One.” Final warning.

Right before Caleb could act…

I opened the door, forced a smile. My lips trembled, but I tried to look casual.

My face burned, breathing ragged. Silently begging he wouldn’t notice. I wiped my hands on the towel, hiding the evidence.

Caleb’s nose twitched. He frowned, gaze dropping lower…

I quickly used the towel to cover myself. My cheeks burned—embarrassment and fear tangled together.

Cautiously, I asked, “What is it?” My voice was small. Almost pleading.

He stared at me with dark eyes. “Ugh, this smell is seriously nasty.” His lips curled in disgust, but there was a glint of amusement.

My heart skipped. Face went pale. Crap. Did he catch me sneaking blood? I braced myself.

The next second, he smirked. Shook his head like I was hopeless.

“You really are a pervert. Every night you do this in the bathroom right after I shower—are you that into me?” Teasing. But it stung.

“Huh?” I blinked, too stunned to respond.

While I was still scared stiff, he turned and left. I sagged against the doorframe—relief and confusion warring inside.