Aria's POV
I woke up screaming.
The dream again. Always the same dream.
The garden filled with silver flowers that glowed like stars. The woman with violet eyes—eyes exactly like mine—singing a lullaby in a language I didn't know but somehow understood.
"Little light, little love, you are never alone..."
And then the flames. The screaming. The woman reaching for me one last time before everything went dark.
I bolted upright in bed, my heart hammering. My face was wet with tears I didn't remember crying.
The silver locket around my neck felt warm against my skin. Too warm. Like it had been touched by fire.
I grabbed it with shaking hands, trying to calm down. It was just a dream. The same dream I'd had since I was little. It didn't mean anything.
But then I remembered last night.
The man on the rooftop with glowing silver eyes. Shadow disappearing. The mysterious text message. The roses glowing in the shop window.
I looked at my bedroom window.
It was fine. Not shattered like I'd imagined in my half-asleep panic. Everything was normal.
Maybe I really was losing my mind.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I grabbed it, my stomach twisting with fear.
But it was just my alarm. 6:30 AM. Time to get ready for school.
I forced myself out of bed, my legs still shaky. When I opened my bedroom door, I heard Aunt Moira moving around downstairs in the shop.
Good. As long as she was busy, she'd leave me alone.
I got dressed quickly, grabbed my backpack, and tried to sneak out the back door.
"Aria!"
I froze. So close.
Aunt Moira appeared in the hallway, holding a steaming cup of tea. She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. It never did.
"You forgot your morning tea, dear."
I stared at the cup. She'd been making me drink this special tea every morning for as long as I could remember. She said it was for my health. That I was weak and sickly and needed it.
But this morning, something felt different.
The tea smelled wrong. Bitter. Like rotting flowers.
"I'm going to be late for school," I said, trying to step around her.
Her hand shot out, gripping my arm. Hard. "Drink. Your. Tea."
Her eyes were cold. Demanding.
Fear crawled up my spine. Since when did she care if I drank the stupid tea?
"I—I'm not feeling well. My stomach—"
"Then this will help." She shoved the cup toward my face. "Drink it. Now."
Something inside me snapped.
"No."
The word came out stronger than I expected. Aunt Moira's eyes widened.
"What did you say?"
"I said no." I jerked my arm free. "I don't want your tea. I never wanted it."
For a second, something dark flashed across her face. Something that made her look like a completely different person.
Then it was gone, and she was just my cold, mean aunt again.
"Fine," she said quietly. Too quietly. "But don't come crying to me when you get sick."
I ran out the door before she could say anything else.
My hands were shaking as I walked to school. I'd never said no to her before. Never stood up for myself.
Why did it feel like I'd just made a terrible mistake?
School was the same as always. People talked around me, through me, like I wasn't there.
I was invisible.
Until lunch period.
I was sitting alone in the library, trying to focus on homework, when someone slid into the chair across from me.
"Hey, Aria."
I looked up and my heart did a little flip.
Ethan Cross. The boy who'd transferred to our school six months ago. The only person who'd ever been nice to me.
He was smiling, holding two cups of coffee and a cupcake with a single candle stuck in it.
"What's this?" I asked, confused.
"Early birthday celebration." He pushed the cupcake toward me. "I know your birthday's in two days, but I figured you deserved something special now."
My throat went tight. "How did you know it was my birthday?"
"You mentioned it once. A few weeks ago." He looked almost shy. "I remembered."
Someone remembered. Someone actually paid attention to me.
I felt tears burning in my eyes, but I blinked them away. "Thank you. This is... really nice."
"Make a wish," Ethan said, pulling out a lighter.
He lit the candle, and for a moment, I just stared at the small flame.
What did I wish for? To not be alone anymore? To belong somewhere? To matter to someone?
I closed my eyes and blew out the candle.
When I opened them, Ethan was watching me with a soft smile.
"So," he said, "there's this Christmas festival tomorrow night. The whole town goes. Lights, food, live music—the works." He hesitated. "Would you maybe want to go? With me?"
My heart stopped.
Was he asking me on a date? Ethan Cross was asking me on a date?
"I—yes. I'd love to."
His smile grew bigger. "Really? That's great! I'll pick you up at seven?"
"Seven sounds perfect."
We talked for the rest of lunch period. About music, about books, about everything and nothing. For the first time in my entire life, I felt seen.
Like I mattered.
Like maybe, just maybe, things were going to get better.
I practically floated through the rest of the school day.
Someone wanted to spend time with me. Someone nice and cute and genuine.
Maybe my life wasn't completely hopeless after all.
I was walking home, still smiling, when I felt it.
Someone was following me.
I glanced over my shoulder. The street was empty. But the feeling didn't go away.
I walked faster.
The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the sidewalk. And those shadows—they were moving wrong.
Stretching toward me. Reaching.
Like they were alive.
My breath caught. I started to run.
But the shadows followed, getting darker, thicker, wrapping around my ankles like hands—
"Aria, stop!"
I spun around.
A girl stood there. Maybe a few years older than me, with long dark hair and sharp eyes. She was dressed all in black, and there was something dangerous about the way she moved.
"Who are you?" I gasped.
"Someone trying to save your life." She looked around nervously. "You need to come with me. Right now. It's not safe—"
"I'm not going anywhere with a stranger!"
"Then you're going to die." Her voice was flat. Matter-of-fact. "The Conclave is coming for you. They know you're close to awakening. That boy you've been talking to? Ethan? He's one of them."
My blood turned to ice. "What? No. You're lying—"
"Am I?" She stepped closer. "Why do you think he suddenly appeared in your life six months ago? Why do you think he's been so interested in someone everyone else ignores?"
"Stop it!"
"He's a spy, Aria. And tomorrow night at that festival? He's going to deliver you right into their hands."
"You're crazy!" I backed away. "Leave me alone!"
I ran.
I didn't stop running until I reached the flower shop. My chest hurt. My head was spinning.
That girl was insane. Ethan wasn't a spy. He was kind. He saw me. He cared about me.
She was just trying to scare me.
But as I unlocked the door, I saw something that made my blood run cold.
On the door handle, someone had painted a symbol in what looked like red paint.
Except it wasn't paint.
It was blood.
And the symbol—a circle with a crescent moon inside—was glowing.
Just like the roses. Just like the man's eyes.
My hands shook as I pushed the door open.
Inside, Aunt Moira stood in the middle of the shop, surrounded by candles. She was chanting something in a language I'd never heard.
And her eyes—
They were completely black.
She turned to look at me, and when she smiled, her teeth looked too sharp.
"Welcome home, dear niece," she said in a voice that wasn't quite hers. "We've been waiting for you."
The door slammed shut behind me.
All the locks clicked into place.
And I realized with horrible certainty—
I was trapped.