“I want to join,” I spit, with a bit more force this time. “How does one do that?”
I tremble as he slowly walks back over to me. He gets so close in my personal space that I find myself stumbling back, until my shoulders hit the rough bark of the tree behind me. Vaughn doesn’t stop until his hard body is almost pinned to mine, caging me against the tree as he looms over me.
“The Syndicate wouldbreak you,” he rasps quietly.
I shake my head, shivering. “It wouldn’t,” I croak.
His eyes pinch. “Iwould break you.”
A wicked throb tightens and coils low in my belly. Utter silence envelops the clearing again as the world goes still. All I can hear is the sound of my heavy breathing and the soft crunch of dead leaves beneath my feet as I shift uncomfortably under his unblinking, vicious glare.
Time ticks by in silence. I can’t tell if he’s been staring at me for nine seconds or ninety minutes.
“I’m going to tell you something,” he finally says quietly. “And you will imprint it on your fucking soul.”
I start to open my mouth to agree. But before a single sound can escape my lips, Vaughn leans right down into me, making me gasp and sending a ripple through my core when his lips brush my ear.
“Remember that you asked for this.”
Then, without another word, he straightens up, turns, and starts to walk away into the night.
I blink, frozen, my back still tight against the tree as if his body is still pinning me to it.
“Vaughn—”
“Expect an invitation in the next few days,” he growls, still walking away.
Wait, what?
“Although if you’re smart, Evelina,” he murmurs, glancing back, “you’ll ignore it when it comes.”
He starts to recede into the shadows of the trees as I stare at him, wide-eyed.
“Thank you,” I croak.
He halts mid-step, his back still toward me. “Don’t.”
I shiver as he turns to glance at me over his shoulder, the moonlight casting ghostly shadows and deep, violent lines across his face.
“Don’t thank me.”
“Why not?”
“Because if you knew the first thing about me, you’d know there’s nothing about being on my radar to be thankful for.”
The invitation arrivesthree days later, delivered by a man dressed in black waiting for me after rehearsal one day. He says nothing, just hands me a black envelope sealed with venom-green wax bearing the imprint of a dagger encircled by a halo of light. Inside, the invitation itself is handwritten on parchment paper in ink the same green as the seal.
You have been selected to present yourself for initiation.
The process will be difficult. Not all who attempt it will succeed. Risk of serious injury or death is inherent.
If you wish to proceed, you will arrive at Blackbriar Hall at nine p.m. two weeks to the day from receipt of this notice. Dress in black clothes you can move in.
Attendance constitutes consent. Absence will be taken as refusal.
Per Silentium, Per Sanguinem.
I reread the invitation four times, feeling my pulse quicken with every word.
