Chapter 2 THE DEAD GIRL WAKES UP

Dawn spilled pale light through the cracks in the shutters, casting long slivers of gold across the wooden floorboards. Dust motes danced in the beams, slow and weightless, suspended in a silence too thick for morning.

Selene's eyes snapped open.

The ceiling above her looked the same-familiar wooden planks crossed with age-darkened beams-but something was wrong. A hush clung to her room like fog, heavy and still. The blanket clung to her skin as if she had emerged from water rather than sleep. Her limbs felt... foreign. Light as ash, yet weighted by something unseen.

Her breath caught. Not from pain. From absence.

There was no ache in her body, no soreness from the alley's assault, no wound at her neck. No blood. No memory beyond that final whisper-

"You were never meant to be here."

The words echoed faintly, like a dream too thin to grasp.

She sat up slowly, pressing her palm against her forehead. Her skin was cool. Too cool. Her fingertips trembled. Her neck-bare, unmarred.

Had it all been a nightmare?

She looked around. Her boots, damp with dew, sat by the hearth. Her cloak was folded over the stool. And on her desk, perfectly placed, lay the acceptance letter from Ravenwood, stained only by a blot of ink.

Not blood.

A knock rapped at the door. "Selene?" her mother called, voice weak but clear.

"I'm awake," Selene answered, her tone steady despite the crawling disquiet inside her.

She rose, moving carefully, expecting the weight of soreness, of bruises or stiffness. There was none. In fact... she moved faster, lighter. Her feet barely made a sound as they touched the floor.

She stepped into the small sitting room, where her mother lay nestled beneath woolen blankets. A faint smile curved her lips. "You'll miss your carriage, darling."

Selene's heart beat once. Then again, slower than it should. "I didn't think I'd be going."

Her mother blinked at her. "What nonsense is that? Of course you are. You've been talking of nothing else for weeks."

Weeks?

She barely remembered the letter. Barely remembered anything but shadows.

"I suppose I'm nervous," she murmured.

Her mother chuckled, then coughed into a linen cloth. "Nervous is good. Means you care." She reached for Selene's hand, her touch warm-blazingly so, like fire against snow. Selene fought not to recoil.

"Go on," her mother said, eyes soft with pride. "Your future awaits."

<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>

Blackmoor's streets were already awake, clattering with hooves and carts, the cries of vendors ringing out across the stone paths. Selene's friend was waiting at the end of the alley, arms crossed, a leather satchel slung over one shoulder.

"Gods above, you look pale," Margot said, stepping forward and squinting at her. "Did you sleep at all?"

"Not well," Selene admitted. She forced a smile. "But I'm still breathing."

"Barely," Margot muttered. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Selene didn't answer. Her mind was wading through fog. She caught scents that shouldn't be there-the metallic tang of iron on the wind, the rot of something long dead beneath the cobblestones. A cat darted by and she heard its claws scratch against stone with stunning clarity.

She blinked, heart lurching. Something was different.

But she said nothing.

Margot studied her, lips pursed. "You'd tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you?"

"Yes." A lie. But what truth could she offer?

The carriage waiting for her bore the Ravenwood seal-an obsidian raven embossed in silver, wings outspread. The driver didn't speak. He didn't smile either. His eyes were a shade too pale. His stare lingered a moment too long.

Selene climbed in. The door shut with a dull finality.

---

Ravenwood loomed in the distance like a shadowed mountain, its towers clawing toward the heavens. Gothic spires cut into the clouds. The castle's vast stone façade bore centuries of moss and ivy, as if the very earth refused to forget its age. Iron gates creaked open with a sigh as the carriage approached.

The moment her boots touched the courtyard, she knew she did not belong.

Wealth shimmered in every corner. Boys and girls in silk-trimmed uniforms walked with their noses tilted skyward. Gold buttons, jeweled brooches, polished boots. Their voices rang with practiced arrogance, and their eyes-those lingering, assessing eyes-brushed over her with thinly veiled disdain.

She took a breath. Her senses flared again.

Leather polish. Pipe smoke. The faintest perfume of saffron oil.

Too much. Too sharp.

She blinked, trying to dull the edges of the world, but it was no use. Everything was... louder. Brighter. Wilder.

She moved through the grand halls, her satchel clutched tight. No one greeted her. No one offered help. Students whispered behind sleeves, casting sidelong glances. A few smirked. One girl murmured "charity case" as she passed.

She tried not to flinch.

Her dormitory was small but clean-stone walls, a narrow window, a sturdy bed. She unpacked with trembling fingers, her thoughts swirling.

Something's wrong with me.

But what?

>>>>>>>>>

Her first class was held in the old lecture hall, its domed ceiling painted with constellations, now faded with age. Wooden desks curved in rows, and a towering chalkboard stood behind the lecturer's podium.

The instructor entered-an austere woman with silver hair and eyes like polished steel. She did not introduce herself.

Instead, she spoke in a tongue Selene had never heard. Not Latin. Not any dialect she recognized. The students didn't flinch. They understood.

Selene's stomach turned.

She sat quietly, scribbling notes as best she could, when it began.

A flicker.

A jolt beneath her skin.

A heat, then ice. Then pain.

It surged through her spine like a blade of fire. She gasped, clutching the edge of her desk.

No one noticed.

Her vision fractured. Her breath came shallow. She tried to rise and fell forward instead. Her heart slowed-once. Twice.

Then everything snapped into brutal, perfect clarity.

The girl beside her was chewing peppermint. The boy two rows down was sweating-coppery, musky. Someone had blood on their finger. She could smell it.

And she could hear their hearts.

Beating.

Fast.

Hungry.

So loud it drowned the world.

Selene gripped the desk, her knuckles pale, her gaze wild.

The teacher's voice dissolved into the pulse of it.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Dozens of heartbeats. Surrounding her. Echoing in her skull.

She couldn't breathe.

Then-

A voice behind her. Silken. Calm. Terrifying.

"Are you okay? ."

She turned, breath frozen.

The boy behind her had eyes the color of dusk.

And teeth too sharp to be human.