Page 10

S ilk bit into my skin, wound tight across my eyes and knotted at the base of my skull. The world tilted, weightless, untethered. Eager hands gripped me. I felt a whisper of wind against my cheek, and then the realization settled like a stone in my gut. This was how I died .

A murmur of voices bled into the night, some male, some female. My breath hitched as unseen hands shifted around me, firm but unfamiliar.

One voice stood out, the one carrying me. Dorian’s voice was smooth and dark, twisting around my name as I clawed into his shoulder. “Easy, Davenant.”

The air was heavy with the scent of rain and something saccharide like lilies that had gone past their prime.

The cold mist clung to my skin, slicking strands of hair to my forehead.

We were moving fast. Dorian’s footsteps barely registered against the stone, a whisper of sound swallowed by the night.

We began to climb.

A shift sent my stomach lurching as the weight of the ground fell away. I stiffened against his arms, marvelling at the unnatural ease with which Dorian climbed .

The wind keened through the corridors, carrying with it a song just beyond the reach of sound. It was a thread of something low and mournful, drifting beneath the fabric of reality. I strained to listen, but there was nothing.

Nothing but the voices and the hands carrying me, and the knowing certainty that wherever they were taking me, I was not meant to return.

The ascent was endless, the world tilting blindly beneath me.

I didn’t know how high we were, only that my body already understood the drop was coming.

I barely had time to brace before I was wrenched forward, my body colliding with the freezing stone.

Fingers tore the silk from my face, dragging strands of hair painfully with it.

Four others knelt beside me. Ruby was trembling so violently I thought she might shatter.

A blonde girl was beside her, lip caught between her teeth, the pressure deep enough that it was drawing blood.

There were two other boys from our year I vaguely recognized, twins, their blue eyes wide with mirrored terror.

A cruel chuckle slithered through the mist, curling serpent-tight around my ribs.

“Welcome to your initiation.” The words were slow, indulgent. My vision blurred, but I forced myself to blink it away. “With the arrival of Miss Davenant, we realized we’d forgotten to initiate a few of you properly.”

The clock tower loomed around us, a cage of iron and wind, as the platinum moon hung overhead. It watched us like an unblinking eye.

I hated heights. I could feel the drop below me like a magnetic pull, a pit yawning in the base of my stomach.

And judging by the slow, wolfish smirk curling on Dorian’s lips, he knew.

Violet-blue eyes gleamed beneath his hood, a predator sizing up prey.

It was forbidden to speak with the Upper Sixth socially. Maybe this was why.

I cast a look over my shoulder, intending to bolt down the passage, but a cloaked girl blocked my escape.

“Let us go.” My voice broke as I moved to push past her. She shoved me back easily, and the circle of robed prefects tightened. “We can’t.” The girl’s voice was cool, detached. She was enjoying this. “Sorry, new girl.”

The others laughed. Again, I didn’t understand the joke. Dorian’s voice dripped with amusement. “Evermore has its own process of selection. The Rift. But as prefects we agree it takes far too long.”

“ Far too long.” A second male hooded figure grinned, a voice I recognized from the prefects room as Oscar. “So we like to host our own version.”

“What the hell is this, Dorian?” Ruby’s voice trembled, barely above a whisper. The color and richness had completely drained from her skin. The rapid rise and fall of her shoulders told me she was panicking. “I thought we were good, my parents will pay.”

“Your parents?” Oscar scoffed. “No one cares about your low-born family, Ruby. Dorian’s run this place, and you know Headmistress Cavendish turns a blind eye to our process. She gets it. If you aren’t a fit, you have to go. You know too much. This is the only way.”

“No!” Ruby shouted against the wind, “Dorian and I, we discussed this! The Rift is in a month, anyway. So close. There’s no point!”

Dorian’s smile widened, his head cocking in Ruby’s direction. “Exactly. Your initiation is long overdue. I think that means you should go first then, Ruby.” I had no time to react. Dorian’s hand motioned swiftly, and Marcus and Oscar grabbed her .

A peal split the storm. One…two…then an abrupt third, a discordant clang as the bell above us rang out. Marcus stiffened, knuckles white on Ruby’s arm. “That’s… wrong,” he muttered. “Rankings freeze at dusk. They shouldn’t still be moving.”

“Something’s different this year.” Dorian’s smile twitched, then steadied. “All the more reason to weed out the ones who shouldn’t be here.”

“NO!” Ruby thrashed, kicking wildly, her sobs breaking against the howling wind.

“Marcus, please! Please, I—I can't—” her voice cracked, splintering like ice. “ I’m not ready!” Her bare feet skidded against the rain-slicked stone, nails digging into Marcus’s sleeve like a creature clinging to life.

“ You know me ,” she choked. “ You know me.”

Marcus hesitated. Just for a moment. I saw the flicker of doubt in his eyes. Then Dorian nodded, and the decision was made.

One shove. A broken scream. And then…nothing.

The clock tolled overhead. The wind whistled through the gaps in the stone walls. They were throwing us off the side of the clock tower.

My scream tore through the air, throat raw. My stomach heaved. I was no stranger to death, but seeing it in front of me like this was something else. This was cruel, brutal murder. Happening on at a college. Ruby was gone, and they had thrown her like she meant nothing.

Then Dorian nodded, his oil-slick smile widening. All too quickly, Marcus grabbed the blonde girl next to me. She wailed as they dragged her to the edge.

Marcus gave another shove. She was just another scream, ripped away by the wind and swallowed whole by the dark. I thrashed against the arms holding me, my pulse hammering wildly in my chest. I cast a look at the other two victims, their faces as pale as the full moon overhead.

Dorian gripped me by the waist, his breath warm against my ear. “Afraid, Davenant?”

“What is this?” My voice was raw, ragged. “You’re murdering students?”

He cocked his head, almost bored. “Only the saved survive. Better you learn that now than waste your time. Ante post, Arabella,” Dorian winked. Then, so lowly in my ear I could hardly catch the words over the roar of the wind he said, “I didn’t like the before. Let’s hope I prefer the after.”

The robed figures answered, voices a steely whisper. “ Ante post .” I couldn’t see the ground below. Only fog. My body tightened, every nerve bracing for the fall.

I turned back to Dorian, locking onto his violet eyes. His would be the last face I ever saw. I wasn’t as terrified as I thought I’d be. Maybe this was fate. Maybe I was never supposed to be here at all. And maybe if I were lucky, I would see my parents soon enough.

Cold hands found my back. I braced. I knew what was coming, and I wasn’t going down without a fight. I willed my thoughts to steady, my mind sharpening. If I was going down, I was taking him with me.

At the last second, my nails found the silk of Dorian’s robes, twisting hard enough to tear. He was going to remember me, even if it was the last thing either of us did.

The wind howled through the night, a furious lament that swallowed my scream. Rain sliced through the air, the length of the fall stretching endlessly. The world rushed up to meet me— closer, closer, closer.

Suddenly, impossibly , everything fractured. The air wrenched, bending around me with an unseen force, and suddenly, I was not falling but caught.

Heat coiled tight around my ribs, something vast and unfathomable curling through my spine like a second pulse, like a thread being drawn taut. My breath stalled, stolen by a presence I couldn’t see but could feel, like the restless energy in the sky before a storm.

And then, in a voice as familiar as my own thoughts, the Thread murmured, “The heavens would weep if you fell like this, Nocturne.”