2
The darkness inside the cattle truck wasn't just an absence of light; it was a physical weight, thick with the scent of old copper, sweat, and the faint, sweet metallic tang of the sedative gas that hissed through the vents whenever their heart rates climbed too high.
Emily didn't know how long they’d been traveling. Time didn’t exist in a box made of reinforced steel and dampened sound. It could have been hours, or it could have been days since they’d been ripped from Max’s shop.
The only thing that kept her anchored to her own skin was the steady, frantic thrum of Amber’s heartbeat against her shoulder and the occasional, mocking sliver of bruised, violet light that poked through the pin-sized air holes near the roof.
Emily stared at those holes until her eyes ached, her jaw set so tight her teeth throbbed. She wasn't scared, she was a goddamn powder keg.
Every jolt of the heavy tires, every shift in the air, was just another reason to hate the leeches who thought they could cage a woman like she was nothing more than a pint of blood with a pulse.
The truck let out a violent, mechanical hiss as the air brakes engaged, the sudden stop throwing them forward against the padded walls. For a long, agonizing minute, there was only the cooling tick of the engine, then the sound of heavy boots hitting gravel.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
A guard slammed a gloved fist against the side of the truck, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the cramped space. The hydraulic locks groaned, a sound like a dying beast, and then the doors swung wide. The sudden influx of air was bitter, freezing, and smelled of damp earth and something ancient that made the hair on the back of Emily’s neck stand straight up.
"Out. Now," Headmistress Vespera’s voice sliced through the gloom, sharper and more jagged than the metal doors. "Move your pathetic human asses or I’ll let the guards drag you out by your hair. I don't have the patience for your cowardice today, and the Academy doesn't wait for livestock."
Emily stood first, her legs stiff and screaming from being cramped in that cage, and hauled Amber up with her. They stepped out of the truck and Emily’s breath caught in her throat, hitching behind her ribs.
They weren't at a school. They were in the middle of a waking nightmare.
The forest surrounding them, the Whisper Wood, was a tangled, suffocating wall of black bark and silver-white leaves that looked like skeletal fingers reaching for the throat of the sky. The mist hung low and thick, swirling around their ankles like it was alive, and the trees were twisted into agonized, weeping shapes that seemed to moan in the nonexistent wind.
There was no birdsong, no rustle of small animals. Just a silence so heavy it felt like it was trying to crush the air right out of Emily's lungs.
"Where the hell are we?" Emily rasped, her voice sounding thin and small against the oppressive weight of the woods.
Vespera turned, her charcoal silk dress shimmering like oil on water in the dim light. She looked at them with a smirk that was all fangs and no soul. "This is the Whisper Wood, little pet. And you are going to walk it. It is a tradition that has stood for five thousand years. Every student, every pet, every servant must traverse the wood to reach the gates of the Crimson Academy. It’s a filter. The weak don't make it to the other side, and frankly, if you lose your mind before we reach the gates, you aren't worth the credits I paid for you."
The Headmistress began to walk, her heels clicking on the jagged stones, and the guards fell in behind the girls. One of them, a massive brute with a scarred lip, shoved Amber forward when she stumbled. "Move it, Silver," he growled, his hand lingering a second too long on her shoulder, his fingers digging into her skin. Amber let out a whimper, her eyes wide and glassy with a terror that made Emily’s blood boil.
"Touch her again and I'll take your eye out," Emily snapped, stepping between Amber and the guard. The guard laughed, a dry, rattling sound, and raised his hand as if to strike her, but Vespera cleared her throat without looking back.
"Later, Lorn. I want them intact for the Selection," Vespera warned. She kept walking, her voice carrying effortlessly through the gloom. "Keep your eyes forward. This forest was cursed by the First King to help scare the weak race, that’s you, humans, away from our children while they attend to their studies. It preys on the fragile mind. If you see shadows of your dead, if you hear the voices of the ones you lost, ignore them. Or don't. The crows always need something to peck at."
As they stepped deeper under the canopy, the air changed. It was heavy, vibrating with a low-frequency hum that made Emily’s vision blur and her stomach roll.
The trees seemed to lean in, their branches clawing at her clothes. Amber was shaking so hard she could barely stay upright, her breath coming in shallow, jagged gasps.
Every time a branch snapped or the mist shifted into the shape of a screaming face, Amber recoiled, nearly tripping over her own feet. The guards didn't help; they poked and prodded with the ends of their rifles, laughing every time the girls jumped.
"Listen to me, and listen well, because I won’t say it twice," Vespera continued, her voice echoing off the black trees. "The Crimson Academy is not the Institution. Here, you are in the presence of the Purebloods and the Elites. They are the gods of this world, and you are the dirt beneath their boots. Rule one: You do not speak unless spoken to. Rule two: You do not look a Pureblood in the eyes unless they command it, to do so is an act of defiance punishable by flaying. Rule three: You stay away from the Mated Pairs. If you see a vampire whose eyes have gone void-black, who is shielding another, you run. A mated vampire in protective mode is a feral god. They are crazed, demonic in their need to protect, and they will rip your throat out before you can even scream if they think you’re a threat to their match."
Emily gripped Amber’s hand tighter, her nails digging into her own palms. "And if we don't?"
Vespera stopped and turned, her red eyes glowing like embers in the dark. "If you refuse to feed your Master? If you dare to deny the elite the sustenance they require? You will be taken to the Draining Rooms. We don't waste Golden Grade blood, Emily. We will strap you to a table and drain you dry, ounce by agonizing ounce, and feed it to the house-slaves before we toss your withered husk into the pits. You aren't a guest. You are a biological resource. You provide the blood, you provide the pleasure, and in return, we keep you alive. That is the contract."
Vespera’s smile grew, sharp and lethal, as she leaned closer to Emily, the scent of expensive perfume and ancient death rolling off her. "And then, there is the Needing. Every thousand years, our males go through a cycle of primal hunger. It is a time of raw, unbridled power and ancient lust. When your Master enters the Needing, you will do exactly as you are told. You will be his anchor, his feast, and his plaything."
They walked for what felt like hours, the forest whispering Emily’s name in her mother’s voice, the shadows reaching out to show her the farm burning all over again.
Amber was practically dead weight now, sobbing quietly as she stumbled through the mist, the guards mocking her with every step. But Emily kept her head up. She swallowed the fear, she pushed back the ghosts, and she kept her eyes on the woman in silk.
Finally, the trees began to thin, and the Academy rose out of the mist like a jagged, black tooth. It was massive, a sprawling, Gothic fortress of dark stone and obsidian, reaching up toward the bruised sky like a challenge to the heavens.
There were no windows, no lights, just the imposing, cold majesty of a castle built for monsters who had no use for the sun. It was regal, ancient, and terrifyingly beautiful in a way that made Emily feel like she was looking at her own tomb.
The stone was carved with scenes of ancient battles, of vampires feasting on the fallen, and the air around the structure was charged with an electric, masculine energy that felt like a predatory weight.
"Welcome to your new life," Vespera murmured as they reached the towering iron gates. "This is the heart of the Demorte Empire. It is cold, it is dark, and it is absolute. You survived the Whisper Wood, but don't think for a second that makes you special. Inside these walls, you are nothing. Try to remember that, little Golden thing, or the Draining Rooms will be the last thing you ever see."
The gates groaned open, the sound of ancient metal on metal echoing through the silent forest. As Emily stepped onto the cold marble of the courtyard, she felt a shiver race down her spine that had nothing to do with the wind. Somewhere inside those windowless walls, a someone was waiting.
She didn't know his name, and she didn't know his face, but she felt the invisible tether of the world tightening around her neck.
She looked up at the dark spires, her jaw tight, her eyes burning with a fire that no curse could put out.
Let them try, she thought, her heart drumming a defiant, rhythmic beat against her ribs. Let them try to break me.
