The aftermath of the mirror maze left me feeling like I'd been split in two. The shattered glass, the reflection of myself broken into a thousand pieces—it wasn't just a test. It was a message. A warning.
I stood in the center of the arena, my pulse still racing from the fight. The pieces of my reflection lay scattered around me, glinting in the dim light like the broken fragments of my soul.
Lucien had disappeared. The labyrinth had faded back into the shadows, leaving nothing but the echoes of my footsteps.
I walked toward the portal, but my mind wasn't focused on the exit. My thoughts were still on what I'd just done.
I had faced a version of myself—a version I didn't want to be. And I had killed it.
But it wasn't over. It never was.
When I stepped back into the House Umbra hall, it was almost as if nothing had changed. The other members were still gathered around the table, their eyes fixed on me. Kael, his expression unreadable, sat at the head. Lucien stood by the wall, his gaze sharp as ever.
No one said a word at first.
I wiped the blood from my hands, not bothering to look at them. I wasn't interested in their opinions.
"You're different," Kael said, his voice low and contemplative. "You did more than just survive the test. You faced the hardest part of it."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" I asked, my voice cold.
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "It's more than that. You've proven something—something that might just make you the most valuable asset in this House. But it's not just about surviving. It's about understanding the cost."
I didn't need to ask what he meant. I already knew.
The power I had accessed—the power that flowed through me, that had torn through the arena with a force I hadn't fully understood—it came with consequences. And I wasn't blind enough to think they would be anything less than severe.
Lucien stepped forward, his expression a mixture of amusement and something darker. "You think you've won, don't you? That you've proven yourself."
I didn't respond.
"You've survived the test, but you haven't survived House Umbra," he continued, his voice laced with venom. "Survival isn't enough. The price you pay for power is steep. And you won't like it."
I stood my ground. "I didn't come here to be liked."
"Good," Lucien said, his smile stretching into something predatory. "Because you're not here to be liked. You're here to be used."
My hands clenched into fists. "What does that mean?"
Kael's eyes glinted, sharp and calculating. "It means you're a pawn in this game, just like the rest of us. And no one escapes the consequences of their power. You're connected to something darker than you know. Your father's blood runs through your veins, and it's more than just a legacy. It's a debt."
I felt my heart tighten. My father.
The truth of it hit me like a wave. The blood in my veins was a curse. It always had been.
"That debt," Kael continued, "is owed to the House. And you will pay it, one way or another."
Later that night, I couldn't sleep. The events of the day—the fight, the revelation about my father's ties to House Umbra—kept swirling in my mind like smoke. I had always known my father's legacy was a burden. But I hadn't understood how deep it ran.
I wandered the halls of Nocturne Academy, the cool night air biting at my skin, my thoughts far from the comfort of my dorm room.
The Academy was unnervingly quiet. The halls seemed to stretch on forever, each corner a shadowed maze of stone and iron. As I walked, I could feel the weight of eyes watching me from the darkness—vampires, half-bloods, creatures whose very existence was tied to the hidden truths of this place.
And I knew, with a sinking certainty, that I wasn't alone in my struggle.
I wasn't the only one who had made a bargain with the darkness.
I turned a corner, and there she was—Sophia.
She was leaning against the wall, her arms crossed, her dark eyes narrowing as she studied me. Her lips twisted into a small, knowing smile.
"You look like you've just been to hell," she said, her voice low and unbothered.
"I've been there," I replied flatly. "And I didn't come back unscathed."
Sophia pushed herself off the wall and stepped closer. "You think Kael and Lucien are the only ones who know about the cost of power?" she asked, her voice suddenly cold. "You think you're the only one who's been used by House Umbra?"
I didn't answer. But the sharpness in her tone made me pause.
"They're all playing a game," Sophia continued, her gaze never leaving mine. "And the moment you think you're in control is the moment they take everything from you."
I didn't trust her. I didn't trust anyone in this place.
But something about her words made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. There was truth in them—truth I didn't want to acknowledge.
Sophia tilted her head, studying me with the intensity of someone who knew exactly how much to push. "Just remember one thing, Eira. You're not just here to fight for House Umbra. You're here because you're a weapon. And weapons—well, weapons are always disposable."
I stared at her, my pulse quickening.
"Are you trying to warn me?" I asked, my voice sharp.
"I'm trying to help you survive," she said, her eyes flicking toward the shadows. "But you'll have to decide if you're strong enough to break free from their grip. Or if you'll let them break you first."
She walked past me then, disappearing into the darkness.
I stood there for a long moment, her words echoing in my mind.
The price of power wasn't just blood.
It was everything you were willing to give away.
The following day, things started to change. I could feel it in the air—the subtle shift in the way people looked at me. They no longer saw me as the "new blood," the outsider—they saw me as something more. Something dangerous.
And with that came new expectations.
The House had begun to treat me differently. The whispers in the halls grew louder. The other members of Umbra watched me more closely, their eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and fear.
I wasn't just surviving anymore. I was becoming something else entirely.
And that something else came with a price.