Pureblood's Forbidden Love

LARA'S POV:

My eyes slowly fluttered open, though my mind remained half-trapped in the remnants of a bizarre dream. Faces and places swirled together in a disorienting blur until a familiar voice pierced through the fog.

"Wake up Lara, you'll be late for your classes!"

That was the first thing I heard every morning without fail. I was an impossibly deep sleeper, and for as long as I could remember, my mother's cheerful call was what roused me from my slumber each day.

Groggily, I squeezed my eyes shut again, savouring those final precious moments of drowsy warmth under my covers. But the voice persisted with that distinctly maternal blend of affection and exasperation.

"Lara Vellon, I know you're still sleeping in there! Up and get ready, lazy girl!"

A slight smile tugged at my lips as the familiar banter rang out. My name is Lara Vellon, a 19-year-old just trying to survive my first year at Bridchester University while holding onto the last shreds of teenage life.

My mother, Roseline, was the sweetest, most caring person I knew. With her rosy cheeks, sparkling hazel eyes, and contagious laughter, she could brighten even my moodiest of days. Dad, John Vellon, balanced her gentle nature with a more stoic, old-school discipline. But I knew his stern exterior concealed a deep wellspring of love, even when he pushed me to excel.

As my mother's footsteps receded down the hallway, I finally willed myself upright, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Like clockwork, a jaw-cracking yawn escaped my lips as I sluggishly opened the curtains to let the morning sunlight pour in.

Just another typical, uneventful day, I had thought...until a sudden premonition prickled in the depths of my mind, a vague sense that everything was about to change, and change drastically.

After my quick shower, I got dressed and headed downstairs where the heavenly scent of Mom's famous pancakes beckoned me into the kitchen. There she stood, clutching the skillet with her trademark sunny smile.

"Morning, sleepyhead!" she chirped as I shuffled over and planted a kiss on her cheek. "Pancakes are yours if you can pry the spatula from my cold, dead hands!"

I chuckled and moved to hip-check her playfully. "Not a chance, old lady. Those flapjacks are mine!"

We broke into a warm tussle until a stern voice rang out. "Breakfast better not end up on the floor again, you two."

Dad strode in, his graying eyebrows raised sternly over the morning paper. But I could see the corners of his mustache twitching with barely-concealed amusement at our antics.

"Morning, Pops," I said, flashing him a sheepish grin before swiping the spatula from Mom's grasp and stacking the fresh pancakes onto my plate victoriously.

He shook his head with a put-upon sigh. "I don't know why I bother. Between your mother's spoiling and that smart mouth of yours..."

But the twinkle in his eyes betrayed his fatherly bluster. For all his old-fashioned gruffness, I knew Dad loved seeing the playful bond Mom and I shared.

As I smothered the pancakes in maple syrup, Mom ruffled my hair affectionately. "Don't mind your father. He's just jealous I like you better."

We all broke into warm laughter, a perfect picture of familial bliss. In that moment, surrounded by the people I loved most, I couldn't imagine anything disturbing the cozy domestic world we'd built together.

Our laughter lingered as I savored those fluffy pancake bites, each morsel seeming to melt blissfully on my tongue. Moments like this were the simple joys I took for granted - bickering with Mom over breakfast, Dad rolling his eyes at our shenanigans while his chest puffed with paternal pride.

Little did I know, I should have been clinging to that contented morning snapshot, burning every last detail into my memory. Because in the blink of an eye, it would all be ripped away without warning.

"You'd better get a move on, kiddo," Dad's gruff voice broke the comfortable silence as he glanced at his wristwatch. "Don't want to be late for Dr. Conley's chemistry lecture again."

I groaned at the mention of the notoriously boring professor. "Ugh, don't remind me. I swear, that guy could make the periodic table feel as dry as the Sahara."

Mom tutted her disapproval while rinsing the dishes. "Now Lara, you know how important your studies are. We expect you to give your full effort."

Polishing off the last syrupy bite, I nodded dutifully even as I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know the drill. Work hard, make you proud, become a high-powered career woman... blah blah blah."

Dad leveled me with one of his signature frowns, but there was no real heat behind it. We'd had this same back-and-forth banter a thousand times before. Lecturing about accountability, me pretending to be the petulant teenager - it was as comfortable as an old shoe at this point.

If I had realized those were the last mundane, affectionate roles we would ever play...

Scooping up my backpack, I made a show of trudging towards the door with melodramatic sluggishness. "Well, I'm off to the school factory. Don't have too much fun without me, you two crazy kids!"

That earned one final eye-roll from Dad as Mom swept me into a warm, lingering hug, the kind only a mother can give. Something about the way she held me close made me pause, savoring her sweet floral scent and the security of her embrace.

"We love you, Lara," she murmured ardently. "Be good today, okay?"

For a fleeting moment, I had the distinct impression to freeze time forever, to bask in the unconditional love of my parents while I still had the chance. But then the feeling passed, and I chalked it up to being an overly sentimental teenager as usual.

If only I had listened to my instincts... If only I could have foreseen how that morning marked the apex of normalcy in my life before it all went spinning off its axis into a waking nightmare.

Pressing one last kiss against Mom's cheek, I pulled away with a lighthearted "Love you both!" and strode out the door, blissfully unaware that it would be an eternity before I saw their loving faces again.

As I strolled onto the sun-drenched quad of Bridchester University, I couldn't shake the nagging sense that something felt...off. Like that primal gut instinct you get when danger is lurking unseen. But I quickly dismissed it as pre-class jitters and scanned the grassy expanse for my two best friends.

"Well, well, look what the slobbering hellhound dragged in!" a familiar voice barked out in greeting.

I spun to see Cass and Ryder already lounging under our favorite elm tree, matching Cheshire grins plastered across their faces. Cassandra Jennings and Ryder Park had been my partners-in-crime since we were drooling, diaper-clad terrors.

Cass was the feisty rebel with a skater-chic punk edge - streaks of neon green in her shaggy black hair, studded jewelry, and a seemingly permanent mischievous glint in her hazel eyes. Meanwhile, Ryder practically oozed West Coast skater bro vibes with his mop of surfer blond waves, battered hoodie, and laidback demeanor.

"Hey there, furface," I shot back with a wink, casually dropping my backpack as I flopped onto the grass to join them. "Isn't it past your bedtime, you thirsty basement goblins?"

Cass cackled at the playful jab, her Technicolor hair whipping about as she shook her head emphatically. "Oh man, she's feisty today! You'd better watch yourself, Ry. The full moon must be making her extra frisky."

"Hah, you're one to talk!" I laughed, giving her a light shove. "Need I remind you about the time Ryder had to lug your drunken ass home after the Battle of the Bands?"

Ryder grinned easily, those dimples of his flashing as he draped an arm around each of our shoulders. "What can I say? Hauling your trashy butts around is kinda my specialty at this point."

For an instant, I allowed myself to get lost in the warm familiarity - my two best friends, our constant back-and-forth ribbing, those carefree moments where we could tune out the stresses of life. If anyone understood how much I cherished simple quality time, it was Cass and Ryder. We'd been through everything together, riding out any storm life hurled our way as an inseparable trio.

Classes dragged by at an interminable pace that day. No matter how hard I tried to focus, my mind kept wandering, consumed by that nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right.

It started as a subtle itch at the back of my neck during Dr. Conley's chemistry lecture, like a sixth sense warning me of potential danger nearby. I fidgeted through the entire 90 minutes, unable to shake the anxious butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

When we transitioned to Philosophy 101 after lunch, the uneasy feeling had blown into a full-blown sense of dreaded premonition. My leg bounced with restless energy as I fought the overwhelming urge to simply gather my things and bolt from the auditorium right then and there.

"Hey, you okay?" Ryder leaned over to murmur, no doubt noticing my agitated state. I gave a jerky half-nod, flashing him a tight smile that didn't reach my eyes.

By the time our final class on Medieval Literature rolled around, I was a bundle of nerves, every instinct screaming at me to leave campus immediately. Thoughts whirled through my mind a million miles per hour - Had I left the oven on at home? Was someone trying to break in? Were Mom and Dad...?

The worries built into a crescendo of panic until I couldn't take it anymore. Abandoning all pretenses of focusing on Chaucer, I hastily shoved my books into my bag and shot out of my seat, startling my classmates.

"Yo, Lara! Where's the fire?" Cass called out in bewilderment as I rushed up the aisle towards the exit.

Ryder was hot on my heels, long legs easily keeping stride. "Whoa there, you look like you've seen a ghost or something! What's going on?"

"I...I don't know," I stammered, trying to make sense of the rising dread gripping me. "I've just got this terrible feeling, like I need to get home right now."

Understanding flickered across his sun-kissed features as Ryder gave a slow nod. "Say no more, I've got your back."

He slung an arm around my shoulders, guiding me out of the lecture hall as curious murmurs echoed in our wake. "Come on, I'll drive you. The sooner we get you to your place, the sooner you can shake off whatever weird vibes you're picking up on."

Chest swelling with gratitude, I managed a shaky smile up at my oldest friend. "Thanks, Ry. You're a lifesaver, as always."

Ryder just squeezed me tighter as we hurried across the quad towards the parking lot, Cass trailing behind with furrowed brows. If only I had realized that my gut instinct was trying to prepare me for the earth-shattering truth waiting ahead. If only I had steeled myself for how that afternoon would bring my charmed life crashing down in an explosion of terror and harsh realities.

Maybe then, I could have been ready for my world to change forever...