W ELCOME TO YOUR FIRST A CTI G ALA. T ONIGHT, YOUR ASSIGNMENT will be to convince a vampire to gift you an article of their clothing,” Professor Andreyas said.

Kidan couldn’t have heard that right. They were standing amid the swaying grass, under the twinkling stars, dressed in their finest outfits. The annual event was held in the Grand Andromeda Hall, which sparkled in front of them like broken glass under water. Kidan wore a high-collared sea-green dress that Dean Faris had sent for her. The dean had insisted that the heiress of Adane House appropriately make her debut. An emerald hairpin encrusted with the Adane mountain sigil accompanied the outfit, securing Kidan’s braids up and away from her neck.

“You want us to take… their clothes?” Asmil, a girl with closely cropped hair, squeaked.

“Not take. Have them gift it to you.” Professor Andreyas fixed his cuff links. “Aim for a personal possession—their rings, coats, even dresses if you’re capable of it. It must be of great significance. The more meaning to the possession, the higher you will rank. Although I hate repeating myself, I must because most of you choose to let your hearing fail you at this stage: You cannot steal it. ”

He stared them down with those ancient eyes until they nodded.

Rufeal Makary, a boy with a slippery smile, asked, “Is there a particular rule we have to follow to get a dress? What’s the limit?”

He grinned at his friend.

Professor Andreyas shot them an unimpressed look. “No limit. You can do whatever you must. Seduction too. Although I doubt you would be capable of it, Makary.”

A line tightened along Rufeal’s jaw. Yusef laughed, earning a glare from Rufeal.

“You have until midnight. Enjoy the food, music, and conversation. Make it count, because the entire party will observe what you have been gifted. Good luck.”

After the professor left, they stood outside, strategizing.

“As far as I know, Iniko Obu is the hardest target. The last time she gave her clothing was fourteen years ago, I think. Taj Zuri, on the other hand, hands it out like fucking candy,” Rufeal explained to his friends a few paces away.

“And Susenyos Sagad?” Asmil asked, voice fluttering. Kidan’s ears perked up.

“He would, but no one approaches him. Too much bad house history. Everyone knows he killed his companions. I mean, look at the state of House Adane. How the hell is there only one of them left out of—”

“Shut up, Makary,” Yusef cut in coldly.

Rufeal crossed his arms, dark gaze sliding to Kidan. “You know I’m right, Umil. Even you didn’t choose him last year.”

The students’ attention heated her face. Kidan cast her gaze to the shifting grass, fists tightening. She couldn’t begin to parse the loss of her entire lineage—she would sink right here and never get up. But June was attainable. June she could make sure wasn’t lost.

“Ignore them,” Slen said next to her. “If you think you can pass, go for Susenyos.”

Kidan shuddered against the thought. No way would she ask him.

They entered through the massive doors bracketed by Demasus’s golden lion statues. The mythic creatures bared their violent fangs, and students rubbed their sculpted manes for good luck and strength as they walked in.

Inside, the wide, sparkling space flowed with soft classical music, poured champagne, and cascading chatter. Tables around the room were assigned according to status, the current high-standing House determined by business status and how many dranaics were loyal to them. The First Table belonged to House Ajtaf and the last to Adane.

Slen, GK, and Kidan did one round together, discussing who to approach, and they lost Yusef along the way. Kidan spotted Taj talking to Asmil but saw no sign of Susenyos. Not that she wanted to find him. He hadn’t come home last night, and she hoped he wouldn’t tonight either.

When the three of them paused for a small break, Yusef reappeared with a piece of clothing—a heel. It’d been exactly five minutes. Both Slen and Kidan glared at him.

“What?” He shrugged. “I’m charming.”

Rufeal grinned as he walked past them, holding a new coat behind his back, and coming in second.

Kidan narrowed her eyes. “I hate that guy.”

“Same,” Yusef echoed.

“Weren’t you his study partner for Dranacti last year?” Slen asked.

“Yeah, but it’s just his energy.… I feel like he’s always watching me.”

Kidan slid a glance to Rufeal, who indeed was now watching them from the opposite end of the room.

“This year he’s my competition for the Youth Art Exhibition,” Yusef continued. “He wants to become a talented, cocky little artist. The world can only handle one of those, and that’s me.”

Yusef laughed softly. When Kidan was being attentive, she glimpsed his laughter stutter and slip off its curve like a speeding car before it crashed. As if it was all a mask. And now she saw it clearly.… He was afraid. Artists and their pursuit of capturing the divine, obsessed with creation, being the best.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” she said.

“Yeah. He’s been trying to convince my great-aunt to give him a seat on the Umil Art Museum board. That’s what’s bothering me. Since when do the Makarys swap their briefcases for paintbrushes? Why would he even switch to the arts? The art museum is ours—it was my fath…”

Yusef’s words faded, and he shook his head. Kidan wanted to ask more, but she worried about pushing him too soon.

“Anyway, you guys should get moving. I’m getting a drink,” Yusef said, and left.

“Who do you want to go for, GK?” Kidan asked.

GK’s warm eyes settled on someone. Kidan liked his soft movements, the silent guardian quality to his stance, always observant and alert. “I’d like to talk to Susenyos Sagad. No one is going near him, and it’s difficult to watch.”

“No,” Kidan said too quickly.

Her neck prickled, but she wasn’t going to look. So he’s here.

Slen and GK each lifted a brow.

“Trust me. You don’t want him as your companion. He’s vile.”

GK pondered this before nodding. She sighed in relief. She hadn’t been able to save Ramyn from Susenyos’s clutches. She could still protect GK.

Someone at the next table moved, revealing a familiar red velvet vest and coat as well as sculpted cheekbones. Kidan’s stomach tightened. Iniko Obu. From the scathing look she wielded, Kidan understood that she’d heard everything.

“I’m going to browse.” Kidan moved into the crowd, rolling her shoulder to shake off Iniko’s wrath.

Once she was safely in the middle of the crowd, she loosened a breath.

Taj walked toward her. When they’d glimpsed him earlier, he had on a suit jacket, long coat, and gold chain. Now he was left in a tank top outlining his muscled arms and… missing a belt.

“Really?” Kidan raised a brow. “That was quick.”

“I usually try to stop before I’m indecent, but couldn’t resist. Prof is not going to be happy. He said I had to pick three.”

She studied the gold-plated band that covered his forehead more than his hairline. “Why do you wear it like that?”

He touched it, surprised, and offered a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Got a hideous scar.”

“Is the band comfortable?”

“Not for the last sixty years.”

Kidan’s mouth parted. “Then you shouldn’t wear it. Scars are nothing to be ashamed of.”

He smiled. “I’ll remember that.”

She shifted on her feet, not knowing how to ask for what she wanted. “Give me something.”

He shut his eyes like the words wounded him. “I wish I could.”

“Why can’t you?”

Taj’s attention traveled to the back of the room. No doubt to who. Gritting her teeth, Kidan finally looked.

There he was, arrogantly lounging in a suit that matched his inky black eyes, red and gold trimmings curling along the collar. Upon noticing Kidan and Taj, Susenyos’s expression darkened.

Her blood turned cold. “You’re not giving me anything because of him?”

“Got to side with my boy on this one.”

GK was right, Susenyos was alone. It was incredible how no actis dared approach him, as if an invisible shield separated him. One student actually changed direction halfway so she wouldn’t run into him.

Year after year… was this what he went through?

Kidan crossed her arms. “Why does he even come?”

“Maybe he hopes someone will give him a chance,” Taj said with a pointed look in her direction.

Kidan scoffed. “Maybe if your boy wasn’t such a deranged piece of—”

“Careful.” Taj’s dark demeanor cut her savage words. “Don’t insult him before me. It’ll be the quickest way to ruin our friendship.”

Kidan blinked. Taj held her gaze with a piercing warning, a new darkness eclipsing his chestnut eyes. Her pulse quickened at the fierce loyalty in them, aged and unwavering. First Iniko and now Taj. What did Susenyos do to garner such protection? Who was he to them?

Kidan gave a slow nod, unsure why.… When the hell had they become friends?

Taj smiled again, light flooding his face as if that tense exchange never happened. He wished her luck and disappeared into the crowd. Kidan shook her head, trying to dispel the odd tightness in her chest. Was this fear or hurt? No, it was more disgusting than that. She was jealous of Susenyos.

He’d found people to accept him as he was. To walk beside him as he committed unspeakable acts without flinching.

Kidan glimpsed GK along the wall, regarding the light and sound of the gala with stiff shoulders; Yusef was at the center of it, smiling near a group of girls; and Slen was speaking to her grinning brother.

She found herself wondering if she’d have their true friendship. Something she hadn’t allowed herself to consider until now. That sacred bond was for those deserving and worthy of life. But… if Susenyos could have it, why not her?

She shook her head. What was wrong with her?

A loud altercation drew her attention to the corner.

“Give it to me.” Koril Qaros loomed over Slen and her brother, voice cold as ice.

Slen’s brother held out a joint. Koril looked at it for a second, then backhanded his son. The joint flew out his hand and landed near Kidan, flickering dimly.

Slen righted her injured brother. “Leave him alone .”

“This is the last time you’ll embarrass this house,” their father snarled at both of them before fixing his suit.

Kidan’s nails dug into her palms, almost drawing blood, and she marched toward them without a second thought, lifting a drink from a tray on the way. She stumbled inches from Koril, spilling the red wine all down his suited back.

Koril Qaros spun toward her slowly, dripping, face contorted.

She touched her head. “I’m so sorry.”

His pinprick eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth but shut it when he realized half the room was watching him. He forced a smile, then swiftly exited to clean himself up.

Slen checked her brother with gentle tenderness. Kidan averted her gaze at the familiar touches. She’d done this exact thing with June many times.

“I’m fine.” He brushed her off, embarrassed, and walked away.

The crowd shifted their attention to more interesting things. Slen’s fingers curled at her sides, quiet.

“Thank you.” Her voice was water losing its ice. Almost soft.

Kidan swallowed roughly. “This isn’t the first time your father has done that.”

“I know.”

Her mouth hardened. “I can take care of him for you.”

Slen blinked. The most emotion Kidan had ever seen on her. “What do you mean?”

Shit.

“I mean… help report him or something.”

Slen studied her like a troubling translation. Kidan regarded her in the same manner, cautious, trying to figure out what went on in that intelligent mind. Here and now, Slen’s eyes weren’t dead at all, but walled with so many layers they deflected anything from piercing them.

Maybe Slen Qaros was the only person here who understood a family’s betrayal, a vicious thorn under the skin. No matter how deeply you dug or scraped at the wound, you could never pinch and pull it out.

They found themselves staring at each other too long, and an awkward silence blanketed them. They solved it by nodding and walking to opposite ends of the room. Kidan shook her head, focusing on her task.

For the next three hours, every vampire she approached gave her the cold shoulder. She grew embarrassed to the point of tearing out her own hair. She didn’t want the dranaics, but why didn’t they want her ? They certainly talked about her. Whispered about the last heiress of Adane House. Her gums hurt from caging her tongue.

A House Rojit vampire, short and smelling of peppermint, stopped her halfway into her ask.

“Sorry, not interested.”

His eyes darted to the back of the room, widening slightly. He hadn’t been the first one to look nervous. Kidan followed his gaze, confused. Susenyos raised a glass, lips curving. The vampire scurried away before she could speak.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Kidan stormed toward Susenyos. “What did you say to them?”

His voice flowed like silk. “A life of companionship with you would be a death sentence.”

Kidan gaped. He’d blacklisted her. Kidan’s features contorted, but yelling would do no good. She had thirty minutes left, so she swallowed her fire. She ran an eye over Susenyos’s fitted clothes. He would have to do.

He wore a crisp white shirt with several buttons opened to reveal a dark, muscled chest. Red thread webbed along his collar like veins, and golden rings adorned his twisted hair, catching light his eyes didn’t. His suit jacket rested on the chair beside him. So easy to take.

“Oh, I dare you to try.”

“Try what?” she said, irritated that he’d read her so easily.

He smirked. Then he was regarding her openly, his eyes trailing up her curved hips and full chest before resting on her collared neck. Her body went cold, then hot. His gaze darkened with equal measures of desire and disgust.

Her jaw clenched. “Stop that.”

“I will when you do.”

“I’m not doing that ,” she said, horrified. Though she couldn’t help but notice him a little more since the Southern Sost Buildings. An unwanted image of him in that towel flitted across her mind, drenched in that intoxicating scent. She scowled.

He studied her pinned braids with a growing smile. “Better. Now your lovely neck is on display.”

Her eyes turned to slits. “No wonder no one wants to be your companion.”

He lifted a brow. “You’re running out of time bad-mouthing me. You should really go court some vampires. I’ll watch this time.”

A reminder of yesterday. Kidan’s shoulder tingled again with the memory of watching his wet kiss, then his searing bite. Her nostrils flared, but she calmed herself.

“I get it.” She sat next to him, lifting his jacket onto her lap and feigning compassion. “No one chooses poor Susenyos, so you want me to know how it feels.”

“I love watching you grow desperate.”

“I’m not desperate.”

“What did Taj say? I saw you talking to him.” He snuck a side glance at her. “You looked quite heartbroken.”

Her grip tightened on the jacket.

“It’s adorable.” A low laugh rumbled in his chest.

“What?”

“You thought Taj would side against me. Was his little rescue in the Southern Sost that convincing?”

She shot to her feet. God, she hated him. Even staying this close to him for a few minutes was impossible.

“Ah, wait.” He stretched out a muscled arm. “Jacket, please.”

It was still clutched in both hands. Gritting her teeth, she gave it back.

“To your final night.” He lifted a drink. “You’ve lasted longer than I expected.”

Bristling, she stormed off.

Midnight was twenty minutes away, and almost everyone had succeeded. GK was surprisingly talking to… Iniko.

Kidan left the stifling heat and breathed in the cold, biting air outside. The chatter faded from her ears, and grass stretched out to the woods, beckoning her.

This was it.

If she failed Dranacti, she couldn’t stay at Uxlay. Her heart squeezed painfully, and she leaned against the building, shutting her eyes.

I’m sorry, June.

The clinking of finger bones met her ears. “Are you all right?”

Kidan lifted her head, letting out a deep sigh. “I’m going to fail.”

GK’s light brown eyes creased. “There’s always next year.”

She shook her head. “I can’t wait until next year. The moment I leave… Susenyos will inherit my house. He only has to live alone for twenty-eight consecutive days.”

GK remained silent, listening. Then he spoke. “Why did your parents leave the house to him?”

“I don’t know!” she cried out, startling him. “But I can’t leave now. I’m here to…”

His brown eyes carried the reflected lights. Patient. Kidan didn’t know why she felt a sense of kinship toward him. The others excited her—an aura of desperation, creativity, even danger circled them—but GK was clean. Like the smell of grass after it rained.

Could she trust him? She remembered how he’d run to save Ramyn. How he joined the group because he sensed she was in danger. It wouldn’t matter soon anyway.

“I’m looking for my sister.” Her voice almost broke with the confession. “Susenyos took her, and no one believes me.”

GK’s eyes darkened with unbridled concern. It was such a relief to see someone else echo her pain. She wanted to tell him everything.

He was silent for a long time. Then he took Kidan’s hand and in it placed a black button from a certain red velvet coat.

Iniko had gifted him an article of clothing.

“Take mine,” he said.

“What? I can’t.”

“There’s nothing in the rules that says I can’t gift you what was gifted to me.”

Kidan’s gaze softened. “Even if that works, you’ll be forced to leave. You’re here to find a companion.”

A sad smile captured his lips. “My reasons feel quite weak next to yours. I can stand the solitude of being a Mot Zebeya another year. Take it.”

Kidan ached at his kindness. The solitary lifestyle of the Mot Zebeyas was still unclear to her, but it had to be cruel. Leaving your family behind always was. Kidan knew that beast in the dark, spinning her out of control. She’d only been alone for a year, and it’d broken her. The need for people’s voices around her, their smell, their touch—she’d started to die the moment they were withdrawn from her.

How long had GK been alone? And yet here he was, offering to return to that abyss. When Kidan thought of good, this was what she wanted so desperately to be. Kind like Ramyn, like June.

“No.” She returned the button to his hand and closed his fingers over it. “I’ll find another way. Thank you, GK.”

He nodded slowly, perhaps wanting to refuse, but he didn’t.

A group of drunk boys burst out of the gala, hollering and shoving one another. One lost his balance and knocked into Kidan with his whiskey bottle. She hissed at the sharp pain.

GK caught her and put her behind him with surprising quickness.

“My bad, man.” The Rojit boy grinned, sloshing his drink.

“You should pay attention to your steps.” GK’s voice eclipsed itself, his body unusually stiff.

The Rojit boy blinked rapidly. “Yeah… sorry.”

He tried to walk away, but GK blocked his path. “Apologize to her.”

The drunk boy worked his jaw. “Get out of my way.”

Kidan touched GK’s tense shoulder, confused. “It’s fine.”

He moved aside slowly, eyes swirling. The boy muttered something about Mot Zebeya freaks and hurried to join his friends.

GK’s face remained tense, watching the retreating boys like they were still a threat.

“Don’t worry about them,” Kidan said, trying to ease the tension. “They’re just having fun.”

“Fun?” He said it like a foreign word. “I think they look like fools.”

Kidan studied their childlike tussling and wild laughter. “I don’t know. They look happy. I can’t remember the last time I laughed like that.”

He regarded her with a guarded expression. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were in so much pain.”

“Why would you?” She gave him a sad smile. “You should go in. I’ll be there soon.”

He hesitated for a moment, then walked back inside.

GK’s words about the rules had given her a dangerous idea.

Some kind of personal possession, Professor Andreyas had said. She checked her phone: ten minutes left.

Kidan headed to her haunted house to acquire what would drive Susenyos mad.

Oh, he’d wish he’d given her his jacket, his rings, his entire wardrobe.