Selene stepped into the lecture hall, the heavy doors groaning shut behind her. Most eyes turned toward her. She kept her head down and moved toward the tiered seating, choosing an empty place near the back. She slid into the seat beside the only candidate who did not look back at her.

  He seemed unconcerned with what was happening around him. Selene noticed he was humming softly under his breath, barely audible. His face was a map of angry, mottled texture, discoloration and scarring running from his cheek down his neck. He wore his hair low, a curtain meant to hide the damage.

  As Selene settled, she felt the room ease back into normalcy, the stares falling away from her. All but one. She glanced across the aisle.

  In the opposite corner sat a young woman who was pleasant to look at, her eyes resting on Selene for a heartbeat before turning away.

  Down on the sunken floor where the lecturer stood, Klaus spoke in hushed tones to the professor, who stood like a statue of black stone. Tall and dressed in somber black, his skin was like marble. But it was his eyes that held the room captive: deep embers of crimson, glowing with a steady light.

  Klaus nodded once. “We will discuss the matter further, Professor Reynolds.” He then turned to face the candidates.

  “As you all know,” his voice carried effortlessly to the back row, “the Red Moon will crest in two days.”

  A ripple of tension moved through the now thirteen candidates.

  He repeated it. “And as you all know,” Klaus continued, “only one of you will—”

  His eyes drifted slowly through the room before settling on a student in the front row, a young man with perfect posture and hair the color of spun gold.

  Klaus’s gaze lingered there, almost approving.

  “—ascend,” Klaus said softly.

  Then his head snapped toward the back row.

  He looked directly at Selene.

  “And the rest of you,” his voice dropping, “will not.”

  With a swirl of his coat, Klaus turned and exited through door, leaving a vacuum in his wake.

  Professor Reynolds waited until the door had closed.

  “A new arrival. It is customary for new candidates to introduce themselves. Stand, Selene.”

  She froze on the spot.

  “Tell us where you come from,” Reynolds commanded, his ember eyes drilling into her. “And what weapons you have mastered.”

  She couldn’t speak of the Athenaeum or what had happened to her. So she simply said—

  Selene stood.

  “Hi, my name is Selene,” she said, her voice thin in the cavernous room. “I haven’t really mastered anything, but… I recently found a huge sword I can barely swing.”

  A few candidates snickered. The one in the front row, the same one Klaus had watched, didn’t turn around, but his shoulders shook with a silent, mocking laugh.

  “And?” Reynolds pressed. “Where do you come from?”

  “I come from…” Selene hesitated. “From a… village. With beautiful mountains.”

  Laughter broke out openly.

  “Beautiful mountains? A village?” He finally turned. “What are you talking about? You’re joking with us. Where do you actually come from?”

  Somewhere in the back of her mind, the dream she’d had in Sebastian’s manor resurfaced—the sound of an axe echoing through it.

  “The forest!” she blurted. “I come from the forest. My father and I… we live outside the walls.”

  The laughter died instantly.

  The room fell into uneasy silence from mockery to stunned confusion. Students exchanging wide-eyed glances.

  “Outside?” a student whispered, staring at her with envy. “Beyond the walls?”

  “Look at her,” another muttered. “Why would she come here?”

  The front-row candidate’s smile vanished.

  Reynolds raised a hand, and silence returned.

  “Thank you, Selene. You may sit down. But I will admit… thirteen candidates,” Reynolds mused, his gaze fixed on her, as though her words had never reached him. “It breaks the symmetry. It disrupts the established procedures.”

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  He turned to the waves crashing against the glass behind him and watched them for a moment, as if consulting the sea.

  “Before we continue with the rules, we will take a brief recess,” he said, gesturing toward the exit. “I need to think. You may wait in the hall.”

  The tension in the room broke as the candidates headed for the exit.

  Selene exhaled a long breath. She felt a sense of familiarity; all in all, this was not too different from the lectures of Professor Halven at the Athenaeum. Even so, she joined the line of candidates exiting the lecture hall.

  The corridor outside was lined with tall arched windows that looked out over the cliffside. She moved toward a quiet alcove near a stone pillar.

  Before she could reach it, a body cut across her path.

  He stepped in front of her, blocking her path. Four followers flanked him, boxing her in against the cold stone wall.

  The same candidate who had been seated in the front row stepped forward.

  “You must be very special,” he said, looking down at her. “Or you’re worse than Oswald. At least his face warns people not to get close to him.”

  He gestured vaguely down the hall, where Oswald was leaning against a wall, staring at his boots.

  “You two shouldn’t be here,” he continued, leaning in and crowding her space. His voice fell to a low murmur. “If I were you, I’d run back to the forest with your daddy.” He looked down at her.

  “When the Ascension begins and we meet again, you’ll find no mercy from me, forest girl.”

  The students behind him laughed softly in the background.

  “What is your problem with me? I don’t even know you—”

  His jaw tightened. A violent shiver, like an electric shock, rippled through him, snapping his head sharply to the left. It was over in a heartbeat, a fracture in his composure. He blinked, briefly disoriented, before his expression hardened once more into arrogance.

  He turned and strode down the hall. “For your own sake, I hope you heed my words,” he said, his entourage trailing behind him like ducklings.

  Selene watched him go, frowning at the strange spasm and wondering what he meant by “no mercy.”

  "That is Lucian," a voice said from her right. "He is a cruel bastard. Do not pay too much attention to what he says."

  Selene turned. It was the young woman from earlier, the one whose quiet gaze Selene had felt. She stood a few feet away, arms crossed, watching Lucian’s retreating back. With a tilt of her chin, she motioned for Selene to step deeper into the alcove, away from the passing students.

  “He’s right about one thing,” she said, lowering her voice. “How did you end up here? Especially now? It doesn’t seem right. Do you even know how to fight?”

  “My name is Alice, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

  Selene quickly replied, “What do you mean, fight?” she asked.

  Alice looked at Selene with genuine confusion. She glanced around the hallway to ensure no one was listening, aside from Oswald, who leaned against the wall humming softly to himself.

  “You… you don’t know? Do you even know what this Ascension is? It’s a trial to determine which of us has what it takes to accept a vampire’s noble blood.”

  Selene blinked. “Wait… what?”

  “The winner, no matter how you phrase it, ascends, transforms, becomes a vampire,” Alice said plainly. “The blood is the conduit.”

  Selene stared at her, horrified. “What did you just say? That’s insane. I mean… are we supposed to fight each other or something?”

  She looked from Alice to Oswald, huddled alone further down the corridor.

  “And the worst part,” Alice added, “is that only one can ascend. The best of us, they say.”

  “Why?” Selene’s voice rose. “Why would anyone want to become a vampire willingly?”

  Alice let out a dry, humorless laugh. Her hands curled into tight fists at her sides, knuckles whitening as if she were holding something back. The composure slipped from her face, revealing raw exhaustion and something close to despair.

  “You must have lived a sweet life outside the walls. I forgive you for not knowing how things are inside,” she said. “But understand this: it is the only exit. The only escape from our slave lives. There is no turning back now. It’s our only option. To obtain that power… is liberation.”

  The truth settled over Selene.

  A death match. For the prize of becoming a monster.

  Now she understood why they envied her supposed life in the forest. They were fighting for their freedom.

  Selene glanced back toward Oswald. “And him? How is he here?”

  “His sponsors,” Alice said quietly. “They decided to put him in. It’s a sick joke.” She looked at Oswald with a mix of pity and anger. “That bloodline always nominates humans for their amusement. They enjoy watching them die. They know he won’t make it.”

  Selene studied the scarred boy.

  The candidates began to file back into the hall.

  What are you planning, Sebastian? What did I just walk into?

  “Recess is over,” Reynolds’s voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding.

  Alice slipped quickly into the seat beside Selene.

  Reynolds stood on the sunken floor, waves crashing against the tall windows behind him.

  With his hands behind his back, “As you all know, the Ascension trial will begin in two days, precisely at sunset,” he announced.

  He folded his hands behind his back, his red gaze sweeping across the thirteen candidates.

  “You will be teleported into a sacred valley, carrying only your chosen weapon. Nothing more.”

  The room was deadly silent.

  “Before teleportation, each of you will receive an injection of blood from your sponsoring nobles.”

  Selene felt a chill crawl up her spine.

  “You will experience heightened strength,” Reynolds continued. “Increased speed. Sharpened perception.” He paused. “And a unique gift, born from the union of your filth blood with pure noble blood. Should you survive, you will enjoy these… beautiful privileges.”

  His gaze swept the room.

  “For a brief momment, you will be more. But be warned: the enhancement is temporary, Only the one that Ascened will become perfect”

  He paused, letting the words hang in the air.

  “Once the sun sets in two days, the race begins. You will have until the Blood Moon reaches its apex that same night.”

  Several students glanced nervously toward the tall windows, searching the sky.

  “You have until that moment to reach the Colosseum.”

  “Any candidate outside the Colosseum when the moon peaks will be executed.”

  “You may eliminate one another at any point during the transit.”

  A small smile appeared on his face as he said this.

  “Prepare yourselves.”

  Reynolds turned and walked back to his desk before dismissing them.

  Selene sat paralyzed. The injection. The hunt. The execution. It was madness.

  She felt a gentle nudge at her elbow.

  Alice had leaned against her. Her voice was barely a whisper.

  “Hey, you look like you’re about to be sick,” Alice whispered, her eyes locking onto Selene’s. “Listen. If we stay together, we both improve our odds. Lucian is the real threat. Alone, we’re easy targets.”

  “We should stick together. An alliance.”

  Selene looked into Alice’s steady eyes.

  Beyond the tall windows, the sea roared against the cliffside, and far above the clouds, the moon was beginning to bleed.