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Crimson for vampires. Gold for fae. Silver for wolves. Blue for sirens. White for Medusae. Black-gold for dragon riders.

The Headmaster walks to the center of the Crystal Dome. Conversation fades around him. Hundreds of students turn. For the first time tonight, the Academy becomes completely silent.

"Every year," he begins, "we gather beneath these stars not to celebrate what separates us, but what we have chosen to protect together."

My smile fades. Around me, shoulders straighten. Even Rhyven stops looking bored.

"Six peoples." The Headmaster raises one hand. "Six histories." Another. "Six powers." His gaze travels across us. "One peace."

A stone basin rises from the floor. Ancient. Dark. Carved with symbols I don't recognize. Students begin moving forward by Family. Third years first. Then second. Then us. Caelen squeezes my shoulder before joining his line.

"You'll be fine." He says.

"I know."

He smiles. "Of course you do."

When my turn comes, I step toward the basin. The ceremonial blade is colder than expected. I draw it across my palm. A shallow cut. One drop. That's all the pledge requires.

My blood falls. Touches the black stone. The basin absorbs it immediately. Except— No. Not immediately. My drop remains. Crimson against black. I stare. One second. Two. Three.

Around me, the ceremony continues. No one reacts. Perhaps no one notices. Then the blood sinks into the stone. Gone.

I remain there half a heartbeat too long. "Miss Vaelith?" The professor beside the basin gestures gently. Right. I move. I return to the others. Rhyven is standing beside Caelen. His attention is elsewhere.

Hours later, when the Ball finally begins thinning, I find Caelen on the western balcony. Cold mountain air rushes over me as I step outside.

"You survived." He offers me his jacket.

"I wasn't aware survival was uncertain." I answer as I put on his jacket.

"You met my friends."

"Fair."

I lean against the railing. Below us, the Academy stretches across the mountainside. Towers. Courtyards. Windows glowing against the darkness. Somewhere below, students are laughing. Someone shouts. A dragon roars from the distant cliffs. I smile. Caelen watches me.

"What?" I ask.

"You have the face." I glare at him. He laughs. Then his expression softens. "You like it."

I look back toward the Academy. Do I?

I've been here less than one night. I've met a fae who apparently considers personal boundaries optional.

A wolf who laughs too loudly. A Medusa who could probably kill someone with a look even without magic. A siren who already invited me to breakfast. And Rhyven. Who is— I don't know what Rhyven is. Mean? Not exactly. Rude. Definitely.

"Ask me tomorrow."

Caelen nudges my shoulder. "You're going to love it here."

Something warm settles inside my chest. Not magic. Not destiny. Hope.

"I think I might."

Inside the Crystal Dome, the last students approach the blood basin. One drop. Then another. Each disappears instantly into the ancient stone. The professor overseeing the ceremony gathers the ceremonial blades. The chandeliers begin extinguishing. No one notices the thin crimson line appearing along the bottom of the basin. It travels through one carved symbol. Then another. Down the pedestal. Across the marble floor. Only an inch. Perhaps two. Then it disappears beneath the stone.

Chapter Two