Page 16 of A Fate Everlasting

“Don’t talk like that,” Dorian said, voice clipped, an edge beneath the cool. “You’re a prefect. You’re Ascended. Your score’s one of the highest.”

Rosaline nodded, lips tight. “But isn’t it strange that not all of us will make it?” The echo of laughter died, the silence heavy.

“Not like it’s a surprise,” someone muttered out of view, a voice I didn’t recognize. A chair scraped.

“No,” Marcus agreed. “But you’d think they’d pretend to care.”

Dorian swirled his drink, restless to change the subject. He nodded between Marcus and Rosaline. “How is it for you guys? Being Ascended?”

Rosaline tapped her nails against the wood. “Our last training session with Godwin was canceled. Something about the Archangels.” Unease rippled. “I miss the Lower Sixth,” shesaid finally. “It was fun to play last year, to feel out which path to take. The stakes didn’t feel real then.”

The silence deepened. Then, a clink of ice as Dorian moved toward the main sofa.

“They were real,” Marcus warned. “We lost nearly half our year group to the Rift.”Lost?“But I suppose you’re right. If we thought that was bad, even fewer will survive graduation.”Survive?The way he said it didn’t sound hyperbolic.

“I hate the Spring Term. That’s when the sabotage sets in,” another male prefect I didn’t recognize spoke.

Rosaline rolled her eyes. “You sound like your brother.”

“Oscar is right.” Marcus didn’t flinch. “It’s tradition. As prefects, we’re targets.”

“Come off it, Marcus. Enough now,” Dorian drawled. His eyes lit up. “I’m still deciding who’ll Fall this year.”

Rosaline’s gaze swept the room. “Speaking of.” Her smile turned cutting. “What do we think of our newest addition?”

A chill threaded down my spine. Marcus gave a low laugh. “Arabella Davenant? Please. It won’t even be a choice.”

“She does have a certain… reputation,” Rosaline added.

Dorian didn’t smile. He let out a slow breath. “She won’t even fight it,” he murmured. “She’ll Fall. I’ll make sure of it.”

The room rang with laughter, heat prickling beneath my skin. I shifted, stumbling, and my foot nudged a loose stone. The scrape echoed like a gunshot.

“Did you hear that?” Panic clutched my chest. I bolted, feet slamming the stone, skin buzzing like static. Behind me, a chair scraped. A door slammed.

“Someone’s there!” Rosaline’s voice rang out. I didn’t stop running. Not until I was beneath my sheets, heart racing, lungs burning. Not until I was small again. Hidden.

Not all of us will make it.Ruby had said it too. Surely they didn’t mean that. I thought of the wings, discarded like masks.Of the laughter that faded too quickly. Of the words.Once taken, never returned.

I had underestimated this place, andI had no idea what happened to the ones who didn’t make it.

I had settled into a dreamless sleep, but the hand slammed over my mouth before I could scream. My body bucked, and my instinct kicked in too late. An arm banded around my waist, pulling me tight against something hard. No,someone.

I thrashed, heels scraping against stone, nails clawing at the grip on my face. The only sound was a low and urgent voice, a brush of lips against my ear. “Don’t struggle.” Their grip tightened. “If they hear you—” I felt my knees go weak. “We’re both dead.”

7

Silk bit into my skin, wound tight across my eyes and knotted at the base of my skull. The world tilted, weightless, untethered. Eager hands gripped me. I felt a whisper of wind against my cheek, and then the realization settled like a stone in my gut.This was how I died.

A murmur of voices bled into the night, some male, some female. My breath hitched as unseen hands shifted around me, firm but unfamiliar.

One voice stood out, the one carrying me. Dorian’s voice was smooth and dark, twisting around my name as I clawed into his shoulder. “Easy, Davenant.”

The air was heavy with the scent of rain and something saccharide like lilies that had gone past their prime. The cold mist clung to my skin, slicking strands of hair to my forehead. We were moving fast. Dorian’s footsteps barely registered against the stone, a whisper of sound swallowed by the night.

We began to climb.

A shift sent my stomach lurching as the weight of the ground fell away. I stiffened against his arms, marvelling at the unnatural ease with which Dorian climbed.

---