“Unusual,” he murmured. “Earthy. Fresh.”Vanessa smirked from the sidelines, her own vial already praised for its “seductive elegance.”Ronan passed the vial to Damon. The moment he lifted it to his nose, I felt the heat rise up my neck, the anticipation killing me slowly.He inhaled, deeply. And th
LilaI slipped past the last row of hedges and walked until the sounds of the palace faded behind me, trading marble and mirrors for grass and dusk. The outer gardens were quieter this time of evening, even my breath sounded too loud in my ears.The scent trial had left my insides feeling raw and ex
A breeze stirred between us, tugging at the hem of my skirt.“I want to be chosen,” I said. “Not used. Not tolerated. Not evaluated like a potential weapon.”Damon’s mouth parted like he was going to speak—but no sound came out. And that silence, it gutted me.I should’ve stopped there. Should’ve tu
DamonThe hairpin burned a hole in the corner of my desk.It sat in the open, harmless in appearance—silver, slender, shaped like a crescent moon—but it may as well have been a dagger.It wasn’t just a trinket. It was Natalie’s. I remembered the curve of it in her hair the night she died. And now I’
I’d met half a dozen council hopefuls in this room over the past month. All of them wore the same expression—deference gilded with hunger.I expected another version of that as I stepped inside.What I found instead was the bride candidate Vanessa.She was alone and waiting. Seated, poised in a figu
LilaThe morning air was tight with anticipation. I felt it before I heard the announcement—something electric weaving through the halls, sharp as static before a storm. Word spread faster than usual.By the time I entered the common hall for breakfast, the other candidates were already whispering.
He’s asking for a chance, Ruby said. You’re allowed to want it.I pressed the envelope to my chest, the paper warm from the heat of my palm.I didn’t know if this was another game, or something real. But either way, I’d just been invited to walk back into the wolf’s den.I stared at the letter for a
LilaThe dress hung on the armoire door like a question I didn’t know how to answer.I stared at it while the light shifted across the room, dragging the minutes toward a dinner I was not ready for.It all felt surreal. Like I’d dreamed the note and was about to wake up to it being some cruel joke.
LilaThe candle on my nightstand had burned down to a stub, its flame trembling like it, too, wasn’t sure whether it should keep going.I lay on my side, fully dressed atop the blankets, my hair still damp from rinsing off the bathhouse steam. The air in my room had cooled, but heat still clung to m
I sat on one of the low, cushioned benches by the wall, arms wrapped around my knees, fingers absently tracing the embroidery on my gown. The moisture in the air clung to my skin, kissed my throat and collarbone, but couldn’t soften the burn sitting in my chest.The ranking hadn’t changed everything
LilaIt was like Emma had become a ghost. I searched for her everywhere but after an hour it was clear she wasn’t in any of the usual places, or any unusual ones either.So I settled into the archives to do a little light brooding and maybe learn a little more before the next trial, whatever it woul
LilaThe package was small—no larger than a folded napkin—but it gleamed like treasure in Emma’s hands.We sat in the lounge, the windows cracked to let in the early light. Morning wind carried the scent of fresh lemon blossoms from the courtyard, soft and sharp all at once. My tea sat cooling on th
DamonThe garden party was a performance. And I was its unwilling centerpiece.Music hummed from the far end of the garden—just loud enough to distract, not so loud it could mask the real conversations happening in whispers behind jeweled fans.I stood beside the advisory circle, a cluster of nobles
LilaThe gardens had never looked more curated.Even the air felt arranged—light, perfumed with blooming roses and honeysuckle, touched with just enough breeze to stir the silk banners strung between marble columns. Golden sunlight filtered through carefully trimmed topiaries and glittered against p
LilaThe trial room smelled like butter and cinnamon—warm, rich, deceptively comforting.Long tables stretched across the marble floor, already dusted with flour. Each station bore a small placard with a candidate’s name and a challenge directive: Create a dessert that reflects your roots.I stared
LilaI knew something had shifted the moment I stepped into the hall.It was in the silence that followed my footsteps. The way the girls at the end of the corridor stopped talking the second I came into view. A glance. A smirk. One of them leaned into the other’s ear like they couldn’t help themsel
By the time I returned to my room, dawn had fully broken. The palace buzzed with early activity, none of it touching me.I curled up on the edge of my narrow bed, the scent of caramel still clinging to my fingertips.After a short nap, I took the long way to the council wing. I told myself it was to