The moment we step toward the shimmering archway, the air changes. It thickens--like honey, or fog, or something alive. Grayson goes still beside me, shoulders tight, as if instinct warns him we're being watched.
"Stay close," he murmurs.
I don't get the chance to ask why. Because the moment my foot crosses the invisible boundary before the arch, everything drops away. The world... vanishes.
No sound. No colour. No ground.
Just weightlessness and a cold that cuts bone-deep.
I gasp and grab at the nearest presence -- Silas. His shadow coils around my wrist instantly, answering me faster than he should be able to. It's the only solid thing in the vast, endless dark.
Lysander's voice echoes somewhere to my right, though it sounds distant and warped.
"We're being tested."
Tested? This--this suffocating silence-- is the test? Dorian's presence steadies like a dark anchor.
"The threshold judges intent. If you're unfit, you get trapped here."
"Trapped?" I whisper, breath shaking. "Like... forever?"
Nikolai's voice is soft but calm.
"Limbo. Suspended between realms, neither living nor dead. But you won't be left behind. We won't allow it."
Silas tightens his hold on my wrist.
"I'd tear through the void before i let it keep you."
The second he says it, something clicks. A pulse. A spark. A hum travelling through all six of us, sharp and warm and golden. Then--light.
The world snaps back. The archway spits us out onto solid ground, and all six of us stumble forward into--
A courtyard.
But not like anything I've ever seen. Moonstone tiles ripple beneath our feet, shifting patterns like a breathing creature. Dark glass veins cut through the stone, glowing faintly with starlight. Enormous spires loom in the distance, swallowing the sky. And lining the perimeter--
Guards. dozens of them. Different species. All armed.
No one else has gone inside yet. Every other group stands scattered across the wide courtyard, staring at us like we've just cheated death. Maybe we have. Lysander lets out a slow breath, eyes shining.
"The gate accepted us."
"Barely," Dorian mutters.
But Silas? Silas grins like he enjoyed the whole process.
A guard with obsidian armor approaches us, carrying a moonstone disc etched with shifting runes.
"Form your ring," he orders. "Six--" He hesitates. "You're a group of six?"
Every other student nearby turns and stares.
I swallow. "Yes. We... didn't exactly plan it."
The guard eyes us like we're a problem he doesn't have paperwork for.
"Very well. All groups must create a sigil before registration. Blood over stone. Combined intent."
Silas steps forward first without hesitation, slicing his thumb with the knife he never puts away. A drop of shadow-dark blood falls onto the disc. It hisses.The Grayson, who steps in with a steady, grounding presence. His blood hits, and the scent of forest and moonlight briefly fills the air. Lysander's blood sparkles like constellations, dancing across the stone. Dorian's sinks like smoke. Nikolai's glows crimson and gold.
The disc responds to each one with a hum--but nothing dramatic happens. Until its my turn. I step forward.
My hand trembles as i press my thumb to the blade Silas hands me--gentle, careful, as if he's afraid I'll bleed too much. When my blood hits the moonstone--
It burns.
Golden fire races across the disc like living lightning.
Gasps ripple through the courtyard. Students back away. Even the guards stare.
"Uh..." I whisper
. "Is it supposed to do that?"
"No," Nikolai breathes.
The stone cracks--then blooms. Black and gold vines erupt upward, alive, twisting around my wrist first, then striking outward to latch onto each of the five boys.
Silas's eyes gleam in delight. Grayson startles but doesn't pull away. Lysander watched with awe. Dorian stiffens, jaw clenched. Nikolai bows his head in quiet reverence.
The vines tighten--not painful, but undeniable--and the moment they seal, a shockwave hits all of us. Emotions slams into me.
Grayson's fierce protectiveness. Lysander's calm wonder. Dorian's readiness for violence. Nikolai's curious devotion. Silas's... sharp, obsessive affection.
I choke on the overwhelming rusg, knees bucking. Nikolai catches me instantly.
"We're connected," he whispers. "Emotionally. Physically. Spiritually."
Dorius lifts his marked wirst. The pattern--a ring of six intertwining--symbols--glows faintly.
"This shouldn't be possible," he mutters.
A guard stumbles backward. "The Binding of Echoes," he whispers. "That ritual hasn't awakened in centuries."
Silas smiles at me. "We're bound now."
His tone is soft, but the promise buried beneath it sends a shiver down my spine. Not fear--something else. Something warm. Something dangerous.
We're escorted across the courtyard to a massive obsidian table where a Guard Captain waits with a glowing ledger.
"Names," he orders.
Silas gives his first, voice proud. "Silas. Shadow demon."
Grayson follows. "Grayson Hale. Alpha werewolf."
Lysander: "Lysander Nightwind. Fae, Night Court."
Dorian: "Dorian Vasker. Reaper-blooded."
Nikolai: "Nikolai Draquill. Vampire prince."
Then it's me.
I step forward, wrist still tingling from the sigil, heart pounding.
"Thalia Arclen," I say softly.
The ledger glows faintly, waiting.
"What is your supernatural classification?" the captain asks.
I open my mouth-- but the ledger reacts before i can speak.
My blood mark flares. The air heats. My vision fills with gold. And a burst of fire erupts from the page, swirling upward in a phoenix shape before dissolving into ash.
Every guard stops. Every student freezes. Silas steps closer like he's ready to kill anyone who breathes wrong. The captain's voice cracks as he whispers:
"Phoenix... reborn."
The courtyard gasps.
Someone drops to their knees. Another group curses. The all-girl group glares murderously. The mixed group of our soon-to-be enemies goes pale.
Phoenixes aren't supposed to exist. Especially not reborn ones.
Grayson growls low in his throat. Nikolai places himself slightly in front of me. Dorian's hand goes to the hilt of his weapon. Lysander steps closer in silent support. And Silas--Silas shadows wrap around me like armor.
"We're done here," he says coldly.
The captain nods quickly, clearly terrified.
"Group six... registered. Proceed through the gates."
Six.
The only group of six.
Bound by fire and shadow and blood and destiny.
The gates ahead begin to open.
And all i can think is:
Whatever waits for us inside Eclispe Dominion... is never going to be ready for us.