Page 11

I blinked, nausea curling in my gut. “You want us to clean the... blood?”

“I saved you a clean one,” came a familiar voice. Ellison was crouched nearby, tossing me a sponge. “Welcome to the royal life.”

“I will not—” I stammered. “This is—”

“I’m sure your servants cleaned worse,” Rok sneered behind him. “Scrub. Or I’ll drag Myla down here to take your place.”

I dropped to my hands and knees.

The stone tore through my slacks, scraping my skin raw. The soap reeked of vinegar, stinging my nose and eyes. But it couldn’t cover the scent of old blood making my stomach twist.

“Why are we even doing this?” I hissed under my breath. “Why is there so much blood?”

The girl beside me didn’t answer. Her hands were pruned and shaking. Further down the corridor, another hunched figure looked like she hadn’t seen sunlight in weeks.

Ellison shifted closer, grimacing. “From what I’ve heard... they duel for mission slots.”

“That’s barbaric.”

Then he gagged. Hard.

“Please don’t,” I whispered. “Don’t gag—”

“Oh gods,” he choked, turning pale. “I found a tooth, Severyn.”

And that was it. We both doubled over, retching into the blood-slicked floor.

“This is our punishment for losing?” I croaked.

“Someone’s gotta clean the mess.” His voice was hollow. Then he nudged my elbow. “Honestly? I consider this an act of heroism.”

A girl hissed from the shadows. “If the guards hear you talking, they’ll make you fight next. I’m warning you.”

One of the girls, thin and pale with dirt-smudged cheeks and calloused fingers, began to hum under her breath.

Her cloak might have once been white, now stained and dulled to gray.

The sound wasn’t quite a song. No words, just a haunting string of tones and hums that didn’t belong in a place like this.

It made me stop scrubbing for half a second. She didn’t look up. Didn’t speak. Just kept humming, like it was the only thing keeping her sane.

A guard shouted down the corridor, and the sound stopped instantly.

Everyone snapped to the wall, spines straight and eyes down. The humming girl yanked me upright. “Don’t speak,” she hissed, her fingers tapping that same rhythm against the stone.

Rok appeared first, shirtless, muscles slick with sweat, chest gleaming like he’d already won two fights before.

Behind him came the others. The older guards with iron-wrapped badges strapped across their armor like trophies.

Some had been here for years. Some had never left.

Charles was in his sixth. I’d never asked why he stayed.

Rok inspected the ground with a nod. “Well, I’ve never seen this dungeon look so clean.” He crossed his arms. “Just in time to get it bloody again,” Rok said.

Then Myla stepped into the dungeon, wearing a cropped leather vest that exposed the branded M on her skin—the Malvoria crest. She wasn’t just a guard now. She was property. We all were.

More guards filed in, forming a jagged ring around us. Rok raised a hand and silence dropped like a blade. “As you know,” he said, his voice slicing through the dark, “missions are earned, and we have two openings. Who’s up for the challenge?”

Myla stepped forward. “I will.”

Rok raised his voice. “And who’ll face her?”

The girl beside me stepped forward and that tapping rhythm stopped. “I’ll go,” she whispered. “I’ve been on dungeon duty for a year.”

A year.

Frost gathered at Myla’s fingertips. Regret flickered in her eyes as she did a once over on the dungeon girl. “She’s not fit to fight,” Myla said quietly.

“She’s gone hopeless,” Rok said. “Injure her enough to send her to the infirmary. But if Miss Giesel here wins, she takes your place as a lead guard.”

Myla hesitated, clearly questioning whether this frail, sun-starved girl could actually win a duel. Then she stepped closer, lifting her ice relic as the humming girl continued her song.

I didn’t look—but I heard the crack of ice, followed by a scream that wasn’t Myla’s. In that moment, I realized something. I couldn’t read her power anymore. I didn’t know her at all .

More volunteers stepped forward. More fights. More blood. The floor we’d scrubbed gleamed red again. And Myla? She won them all.

Rok prowled the line, grin wide and cruel. “We don’t need hopelessness,” he barked. “We need guards. Let Giesel serve as your warning.”

Beside me, Ellison muttered, “This is how you become a royal guard?”

Rok’s gaze flicked to him. “You beat the person ahead of you,” he said coldly. “Or you kill them.”

My hands clenched at my sides. And before I could stop myself, I said, “Does Charles know what you’re doing here?”

Rok’s boots scraped on the stone as he turned, crouching to meet my eyes. “How do you think Charles kept his position as one of our top guards?” he hissed. “Your brother’s hands are bloodier than most. Some of it his own family.”

The air shifted. “What if I don’t want to hurt anyone?” I snapped.

Rok’s mouth curled into a slow, vicious smile. “Then scrub, little Serpent’s pet. Scrub until you rot.”

I didn’t even have time to breathe before his hand clamped around my jaw, hard enough to blur my vision. “You’ll be fun to break,” he growled.

Flame sputtered weakly at my palms, but it was too late. Then a hand yanked Rok back.

The man who grabbed him had steel eyes and blond hair shaved close at the sides. I didn’t recognize his face, until he spoke. “That’s Charlie’s sister,” he said coolly. “Touch her again, and you’ll answer for it when he returns.”

He dragged Rok away without waiting for a response. I gave him a silent nod of thanks. He was the same guard who’d dueled Myla earlier—Fraser, if I’d heard her right .

The others cleared out fast, Myla included. Her cheers echoed down the hall, bright and careless, like nothing had happened. Like she hadn’t just helped destroy another girl too hopeless to stand.

Ellison stared at me, pale. “Did I hear that right?” he whispered. “Your brother killed someone in your family?”

I stared at the fresh blood on the stone. “Yeah,” I said quietly. “Charles is a lead guard. He also killed my brother.” And maybe, just maybe, putting me here was his way of finishing the job he didn’t complete at the king’s estate.

Ellison shook his head slowly. “That’s... messed up. Like, depressing-messed-up.”

“Now you get it,” I muttered. “I have to get out of here.”

The iron door clanged shut, sealing us in. A soft sob broke the silence. One of the dungeon girls, curled against the wall, barely lifted her voice to speak. “You better start cleaning,” she whispered. “Win tomorrow… or be trapped down here for years.”

“They can’t do that,” I said.

She dipped her rag back into the rust-colored bucket. “Yes, they can. And they will. You’ll see.”

And she was right.

Two days had passed in the dark. Food and water were rationed, given every six hours if you were lucky. The only way out was to fight. You had to beat the lowest-ranking guard, claw your way above them, and hope the next rung didn’t crush you on the way up.

I lost every battle.

Sleep came in fragments, shallow and stolen.

Time unraveled, twisting in on itself, stretched thin between the shuffle of feet and the muffled sobs swallowed by stone.

One hour bled into the next, then another, until somehow two days became four.

My fingers were blistered from scrubbing.

My knees ached like old wounds. My flame stayed silent.

And with each shift of gray, the weight of failure pressed harder.

The walls devoured everything. Another nameless guard ascending while the rest of us bled quietly into the stone.

And me?

I was breaking.

Ellison shook me awake a day later. Or maybe it was two. Time didn’t seem to exist anymore. “Hey, guards are coming,” he said. “Get up.”

“It’s not… dueling yet,” I croaked, half-delirious. There was supposed to be more time between fights. It couldn’t be this soon. Then boots thundered down the dungeon stairs and Rok clapped once.

“Wake up,” he barked. “It’s Survival Day.”

“Survival Day?” My voice cracked, too dry to sound surprised.

Rok was already walking away. I grabbed my tattered vest and staggered after him. The air outside the dungeon felt heavier, sharper. I hadn’t seen the sun in nearly four days. The others were already gathering in the main hall.

“What… what is Survival Day?” I muttered as I caught up to him.

His grin spread, cold and cruel. “A night in the woods,” he said. “Consider it a break from the blood.”

Ellison fell in beside me. “I’ve heard of this,” he murmured. “They drop you into barren terrain, and you’re supposed to survive the night.”

“So… a break?” I asked, too tired to mean it.

“Yeah,” he said. “A break. ”

They armed us with rusted daggers, too dull to cut bark, let alone whatever prowled beyond the trees. I tripped over roots and loose stones, lungs burning with cedar and rot. But Gods, the fresh air felt like salvation.

Rok led the way, hacking through bramble and vines that twisted like the carnivorous ones back at the academy. “Most territories we guard are barren,” he called. “No shelter. Use the trees. Build something worth sleeping in.”

Ellison muttered behind me, “Why is he such an asshole? He was almost human on day one.”

I shook my head. “Maybe he’s just an asshole.”

Up ahead, I spotted Myla crouched by a log with a few other guards, studying a set of paw tracks pressed into the dirt.

“Death dwellers’ weak points are the spine,” she said flatly. “Hit there, and you spare yourself the nightmare.”

Rok nodded. “And rippers?”

“They need hosts,” she replied. “You mimic their death to free the soul.”

The mention of a ripper beast made my skin crawl. I edged closer. “Are they the worst things out there?”

Rok let out a short laugh. “Worst death, yeah. They burrow under your skin. Wear the host like a cloak.”

I didn’t dare mention I’d seen Klaus at the academy, worn by one. I’d done everything I could to forget that moment.

Then Rok split us into three groups: Serpent failures, Valscribe outcasts, and leaders. Myla stood with the last. Ellison drifted back to my side. I remembered him once saying he’d nearly made it into Serpent.

Then Antonia stepped toward me. “I won’t be dragged down,” she said. “Rok wants us to build a shelter.”

I ignored her as Ellison crouched beside me, stacking sticks to build a fire. “Hope I get marked a leader,” he muttered. “My father was a guard before he died.”

I asked, “Did he die at Malvoria?”

He shrugged. “It’s complicated.” Then, with a crooked smile, he added, “As long as I’m not back in the cellars, I’d rather not disappoint him.”

I huffed a dry laugh. “We’d probably all be better off if we stopped trying to earn our parents’ approval.”

Ellison tilted his head, eyes catching in the firelight. “I see why you failed Serpent.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your attitude,” he said plainly. “Was it Saani who kicked you out?”

I scoffed. “No. I was expelled for leaving campus.”

Ellison leaned closer. “And what was worth expulsion? You only get, what—eight days off a year?”

My spine stiffened. “Why do you care so much about my life?”

“I thought maybe we could be friends.” He crossed his arms. “Nothing like a little trauma to bring people together, right?”

“Hey, Sevy, I could use a hand with the camp," said a familiar voice. I turned quickly to see Kian wrestling with a torn tarp, trying to knot it to a splintered post.

I walked over to Kian, voice low. “How are you?”

He didn’t look up. “I didn’t choose this,” he muttered. “Serpent was always the plan.”

Guilt twisted in my chest. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” he said. “But something’s off. Archer sending all the Night students here? He doesn’t have the authority. Not officially.”

I hesitated. “Damien’s death… it hurt us all.”

His head jerked up. “What?”

“Damien,” I said gently. “He died, Kian.”

He blinked. “How did I not know? When?”

“I—” I reached for his shoulder. “Kian— ”

“My brother dies, and no one tells me?”

A tear slipped down my cheek before I even felt it. I wiped it away fast. “He was portaling through glass. Something went wrong. He got spliced.” My voice cracked. “I thought… I thought you knew.”

Why hadn’t Archer told him? None of it made sense.

“Archer said maybe five words to me when he pulled me from my father’s estate,” he muttered. “None of them mentioned my brother was dead.”

But before I could speak, Myla’s voice sliced through the clearing. “Did you wrangle it?”

A tremor rippled beneath our boots, then the earth split open and Rok bolted.

A dozen guards rushed in behind him, knuckles white around chains and ropes.

Whatever they were dragging fought like hell.

Scaled limbs lashed out. Its massive body slammed into the pit walls, hard enough to send two guards flying into a tree with a single sweep of its tail.

Antonia gasped. “Holy shit, that’s a lindworm.”

Rok threw an arm out, shoving us back toward the trees. “No one sleeps in the woods tonight,” he barked. “The lindworm is headed straight to the Serpent Academy.”

Antonia didn’t move. “What happens when Malvoria finds one?”

Rok’s voice lowered. “It’s free game. Always has been. If it isn’t bound to a realm, it belongs to no one.” His gaze shifted to the serpent thrashing in the dark. “The students in the lead will face it in the final trial.”

Knox and Malachi were both house leads. They would face this thing, and each other. And as I stared into the beast’s molten, unblinking eyes, I knew one thing with brutal certainty. When the final trial came, the Serpent grounds would run red with Herring blood.