With trembling fingers, I reach out and pull the dagger from my door, watching as the envelope flutters to the floor like a dead black and gold butterfly. I pick it up quickly, the heavy cardstock feels like it weighs a thousand pounds in my hand.
I dart back into my room and slam the door shut, turning both locks with shaking hands. The dagger and envelope burn in my grip as I lean against the door, heart hammering like I’ve just run a marathon.
“Fuck,” I whisper, staring at the black envelope. The golden embossing catches the dim light from my bedside lamp, mocking me with its elegance.
I toss the dagger onto my desk and sink onto my bed, turning the envelope over in my hands. No name, no address—just the Black Crown seal. They didn’t need to address it; the dagger in my door was address enough.
My fingers hover over the seal. Once I open this, there’s no going back. Whatever’s inside—an invitation, a command, a threat—will drag me deeper into the world I’ve been desperately trying to escape for three years.
“Just fucking do it,” I mutter to myself, ripping open the envelope with more force than necessary.
Inside is a single black card, the same gold filigree bordering elegant script that makes my blood run cold:
The Black Crown Society requests your presence at the annual Sinners Choosing Ceremony.
Saturday, October 29th, 10 PM Devereux Estate.
Below the formal invitation is a handwritten note.
Your attendance is not optional. Come alone.
To refuse is to forsake protection.
To accept is to submit to the will of the Crown.
The Sinner seeks what was always his.
Your blood remembers even if you pretend to forget.
It wasn’t supposed to happen to me. There are only a few founding family lines left that have sons who have to participate in this archaic ass shit. There are plenty of daughters of Black Crown families and I shouldn’t actually be an option. Not after everything.
Unless…
No, no fucking way.
My stomach churns as a horrifying possibility takes root. Lucien in my room. The way he looked at me. His words about me belonging to Black Crown.
He’s a fucking psychopath and I wouldn’t put it pass him to do this for no other reason than to ruin my life. For revenge or to play with me like a cat plays with a mouse.
I want to burn the invitation to ash. I want to run. Instead, I tuck the card back inside the envelope and slip it under the athame that I finally notice the inscription along the blade.
For My Little Sinner
The devil called and now I have to answer. I can’t do anything about it except go and hope that I can get out of it. Maybe he won’t choose me, maybe he’ll choose another and he’s just forcing me there to embarrass me. That’s all I can think as I crawl back under my duvet, my body shivering with dread and cold.
I stare at the ceiling, the words repeating in my skull until I can taste them:Your attendance is not optional. Come alone.
I know what comes next; I’ve seen it play out before. The game’s already started, and I’m the newest fucking piece on the board.
I don’t sleep the rest of the night.
Chapter 8
Seraphina
I’m dissociating so hard I can barely remember my own fucking name. It’s like my brain has packed its shit and gone on vacation, leaving my body to deal with the absolute clusterfuck that is today.
The October air bites at my face as I stand in line at the campus coffee cart, my eyes fixed on nothing. The Choosing Ceremony is tonight. In twelve hours, I’ll be walking into the Devereux mansion like a lamb to the slaughter.
