Page 38

T he blood wouldn’t stop.

It seeped into the cracks of the stone, dark and endless, like the earth was drinking him whole. The scent of iron clung to my lungs. Everything was tacky with it, his blood and mine. It coated my skin, my throat, my own teeth, somehow.

The scent still clung to me when I stumbled back into my room, crossing through the corridor where students dressed in suits and long silk dresses were busy drinking cocktails and chattering loudly. The Dawning Ball. I’d almost forgotten.

The moment the door to our room clicked shut, I collapsed against it. My hands were shaking. I couldn't feel them. I couldn't feel anything.

Hugo was dead.

The image was still seared into my mind. His body collapsing. The deafening crack. Blood pooling fast dark, soaking into the marble floor of the sparring ring. I looked down at myself, at the place where the blade had torn through my ribs, where I had felt the agony of steel splitting flesh.

I was lucky it didn’t kill me. Esmerelda’s tonic sealed the skin but left the muscle raw.

One wrong move would re-tear it, I felt.

I pressed my fingers to my temples, squeezing my eyes shut.

The room was too bright. The world was too loud.

The Thread curled, whispering something indistinct.

I willed Dante to leave me alone. I hated him, I hated him , and I hated Dorian, too.

He was infuriating, but I couldn’t shake the way he’d stepped in. It wasn’t the first time he’d done it. Maybe I hadn’t noticed just how often he had. I forced the thoughts away by steadying my breath.

Something clattered against the floor across the room, and I snapped my head up, sniveling.

Ruby emerged from behind the wardrobe to inspect herself in the mirror as she yanked her laces tighter.

The ribbon snapped against her bodice. Then she saw me in the reflection, and her lips parted, face contorting. “Arabella. What the hell happened? ”

I tried to answer, but the lump in my throat swallowed it.

I caught my reflection in the mirror. Blood .

Dark, dried, staining my collar, my sleeves and seeping into every thread, as if the fabric itself had drunk its fill of what he had done.

I looked like a wraith, a girl who already belonged in Elsewhere.

Ruby’s hands fisted at her sides. “You—” Her voice cracked, but she didn’t stop. “You’re covered in blood, Arabella.”

I couldn’t speak. The words tangled somewhere between thought and breath, refusing to take shape. I didn’t know if anything I could say would make sense.

“ Hugo. He’s gone .” The words barely made it out before the sob tore free, jagged and broken, splintering the last of my composure.

“Dead?” Ruby’s arms wrapped around me, solid and warm, a tether I hadn’t known I needed until I was sinking so deeply into it. I folded, unraveling in the space she offered. “How?”

“Dorian,” I managed. How much of this could a person endure before they shattered completely? How much more before the cracks became too deep to ever be pasted over ?

The world dulled at the edges, and for a moment, there was only the steady rhythm of Ruby’s heartbeat against my cheek. Then my gaze snagged on the empty bed beside mine, the sheets still perfectly smoothed, untouched.

“Rosaline.” I pulled back, forcing myself upright, peeling the ruined uniform from my skin. It clung like a second layer, soaked in grief, in loss, in the memory of what Dorian had done. My bones felt brittle, aching under the weight of everything. “You’ve heard nothing?”

Ruby hesitated. “I asked around. Someone said she was still with the other Ascended Upper Sixth in specialized training, but...” She trailed off, lip twitching downward. “With the negative score we saw on Verrine’s slate, I have a really bad feeling.”

A bad feeling. I had more than a bad feeling. I swallowed, but the lump in my throat refused to fade. I moved to the bathroom while Ruby continued, slipping into the shower. I watched the red-brown sludge circling the drain.

“They want us grateful for crumbs,” she called so I could hear. “Like getting into Elsewhere is some kind of reward.”

I caught my reflection again, and for a moment, I saw him. Hugo, grinning over my shoulder like nothing had happened. I blinked, and he was gone. He was really gone.

I drew a towel around myself, padding back into the room.

I gingerly held up the gown that was laid out for me, bright red, molding to my frame like blood turned silk.

My hands trembled at my sides. It didn’t matter how elegant the cut was, how perfect the fit.

I still felt like a dead girl walking. “I can’t believe they are even holding a ball tonight. ”

“It’s so unfair,” Ruby spat, sinking back onto the bed. “Even if the Archangels come back, once we’re marked as a Daemon that’s it. Our chance at the After is gone.”

“Mmm.” I replied. I couldn’t focus. My chest ached, and I couldn’t stop replaying the moment Hugo died over and over in my mind.

“He would have killed you,” the Thread whispered. I shoved against the voice twining through my mind. No. The pressure pushed back, silk-soft and unyielding, wrapping tighter, trying to root itself deeper. I gritted my teeth, unwilling. “ Go away, Dante ,” I thought.

The Thread coiled. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do. Leave me alone,” I willed. A pulse of something electric seared through my mind, and for a fraction of a second, the voice wavered. The whole world felt off-kilter, like the universe itself had flinched. “Just one night of peace. Please,” I said, this time aloud.

The responding silence was thick. The weight lifted. The Thread retreated, folding into itself, withdrawing from my mind like a tide pulling back from the shore.

I was alone in my thoughts again, and somehow I was beginning to feel that might be worse.

The Astralis Ballroom looked ripped from a celestial dream—or a nightmare. Ether burned in the chandeliers, casting soft beams of light across the room. It felt stiflingly hot, my breaths strained by all the incense.

The vaulted ceiling had been enchanted, transformed into an endless night sky stitched with constellations I couldn’t recognize.

Between the swirling figures on the dance floor, the marble beneath my feet reflected it all, a seamless mirage of darkness and light, as though we stood upon the edge of something vast and infinite.

I tugged at my dress, the fabric itchy against my skin. A tune I now recognized as a nocturne played, low and mournful. I cast a look to the piano, grateful when I didn’t see Dante tucked into the bench behind it.

Everywhere I turned, students swayed in their silks and embroidered brocades, their gloved hands clutching goblets of golden wine. The air smelled of roses, though the bite of burning ether curled at the edges. I was drowning in it.

I found myself looking for him, Hugo, stupidly, expecting him to be near the bar flashing that dazzling smile.

My insides curled, and not just from the saccharine wine lingering on my tongue.

His absence was gaping. No one had dared to speak it, but it was loud, a hollow space carved into the evening.

I suppose for everyone vanishing was the final lesson Evermore had to teach—how to become eternally forgotten. It was the one thing Hugo feared most.

Across the ballroom, Ruby twirled in Marcus’s arms, her laughter ringing too bright for the weight pressing down on us. The silk of her gown fanned out as she moved. We were all going straight to Elsewhere, but I supposed she deserved one last night to pretend it wasn’t true.

Next to me, Dorian’s hand skimmed the rim of his glass, like none of this touched him. His cravat hung undone, the open collar of his shirt exposing the line of his throat and his mark, hair careless disarray as if he had been dragging his fingers through it.

Raw hatred burned through me. He’d murdered Hugo in cold blood. He caught me staring and his attention dragged over my figure, like he was taking me apart piece by piece.

He didn’t move, but neither did I. The music shifted, and the couples on the floor swept into movement, gowns gliding over marble. I turned, meaning to disappear into the crowd. But before I could take another step, he was there.

“Dance with me, Davenant.” Dorian’s tone told me this wasn’t a request. His fingers brushed against my waist, pulling me into him. I felt warmth curling through me.

“Absolutely not,” I turned, cheeks heating. I felt disgust even being near him.

“Please, let me explain,” he said, sweeping into step. Dorian had always felt cold, and being with him had always felt like resting on the precipice of a bottomless void. But heat settled low in my stomach, spreading through me like wildfire. “What happened earlier wasn’t what it looked like.”

I should have pulled away. I should have told him no, told him I wouldn’t let him lead me in anything, let alone a waltz. But the restless part of my mind demanded an explanation. The music swelled, and my feet betrayed me as we spiralled onto the dance floor.

“What is there to explain,” I hissed. “You’re a killer. A Daemon. I should have known you’d do something like this.”

“Hugo died long before I snapped his neck.” Dorian’s grip stayed firm, guiding.

So gentle for hands that had ended someone’s life only moments before.

“His soul never made it back from Elsewhere. Something else inhabited him. I told you, I’ve only ever seen my mother resurrect one person at a time . It went wrong, Arabella.”

“Is that true?” I forced my voice to remain steady despite the way my stomach sunk. “I blamed myself. I thought it was the tether that broke or something.” Something I did.

“I promise.” Dorian nodded. “It’s not your fault. He was spelled to follow you into Elsewhere.” I could smell that familiar scent of peppermint on him as he spoke. “So drop the guilt, Davenant.”

I clenched my jaw. “I’m trying.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you made it back in one piece.” Dorian’s eyes were trained on mine again. So vast, a shade between darkest blue and purple, a color I’m not sure anyone had thought to name. “Not sure I’d have adjusted well to a reality where you weren’t around to annoy me.”

“Flattered.” I let a wry smile curve my mouth, but his hand at my waist tightened like it wasn’t a joke. “You’re charming Dorian Cavendish, you know that?”

“Charming.” Dorian’s grin was all sharp teeth. He raised my arm, and I spun into his chest. “No, that might be the first time I’ve heard that.”

“Liar.”

His gaze dropped, lingering on my lips for half a second too long before flicking back to my eyes.

I felt my stomach drop. Dangerous . That’s what Dorian Cavendish was.

Not a waking nightmare, like Dante, a colder threat.

He slipped beneath your skin before you realized it, and by the time you noticed you were already unraveling.

“Everyone hates me,” I said after a moment, my voice lilting. “They all think I’m responsible for their scores dropping.”

Dorian’s expression didn’t change, but something about him tensed, his grip tightening at my waist just enough for me to notice. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Hugo seemed to know about my mother. Suggested that you said something.”

“Enough, Davenant. Enough with the questions, just for tonight.”

“That’s not an answer, Dorian.”

The waltz dipped, and he turned me fluidly, breath stirring at my temple as he pulled me closer. “Maybe you should stop looking for answers you won’t like.”

The words sent a chill through me. “That’s not fair,” I said quietly, my fingers tightening against his shoulder. “I deserve to know.”

Dorian didn’t answer. His hand traced a slow circle against my spine, so lightly I wasn’t sure if I had imagined it. He wasn’t just staring at me now, but truly looking.

Dorian’s hand lifted, brushing against my jaw, the back of his fingers tracing over my cheek, slow enough to unravel something I didn’t know I had kept wound so tight. “Arabella,” he murmured.

The music swelled, and the world tilted, sending a rush of something through my veins. His eyes flitted between mine, searching for something. My pulse kicked against my ribs, skin burning in the wake of his touch as anticipation curled tight.

“You know for someone who pretends not to care,” I whispered, “you sure act like you do.”

He didn’t respond. He just looked at me with that impossible stillness. I tilted my chin upward. It would’ve been so easy to brush my lips against his…

But I felt the Thread, the weight of it returning, tapping against the edges of my mind. Angry.

I gasped as I jerked back. “I’m sorry.”

Dorian’s fingers lingered, desperate to close the gap that had formed between us. “What is it?”

I tore free, swallowing against the cold that rooted itself deep, settling into the marrow of my bones. Dante had no right to intrude on me like this.

“Nothing. I just need a moment.” A lie. A poor one. I turned before he could follow, disappearing into the crowd, trying to steady my mind.

“Just leave me alone tonight!” I screamed down the Thread. “You promised.”

A low, velvety chuckle echoed in the depths of my skull. Sweetly it whispered, “As you wish.” Another. Damned. Lie.

I needed a drink.