I didn't expect the silence that followed my victory. It wasn't the kind of silence you get when you've won. It was a silence heavy with anticipation—a tension hanging in the air like a predator waiting to strike.
The werewolf's body lay crumpled in the center of the arena, its massive frame still and lifeless. The ground was slick with blood. My blood. Its blood.
It didn't matter. It never did.
I stood there, my breathing slow but steady. I didn't let my muscles relax—not even for a second. Every movement was measured, controlled. My eyes never left the shadows surrounding me.
"You're done here," a voice said, and I turned.
Kael stood by the portal, arms folded. His pale eyes glinted in the dim light. "Well done. For someone who's supposed to be 'just a girl,' you certainly know how to handle yourself."
I said nothing. I didn't need to.
Kael nodded, his gaze lingering on me for a moment. "But that's the first task. You passed. Now, let's see if you can handle the second."
I raised an eyebrow. "Second?"
"You didn't think they'd just let you into House Umbra, did you?" he said, a touch of amusement in his voice. "There's always a price. A cost for power."
"Always," I muttered, already knowing what was coming.
"The second task," Kael continued, "is more personal."
I didn't like the sound of that. But I didn't flinch. I never flinch.
He stepped closer. "Your father—he was more than you know. He was a part of this world. A part of Nocturne. And you're here because of that."
I narrowed my eyes. "You know nothing about him."
"Oh, I know plenty," Kael said softly, his voice dropping an octave. "He was tied to our House in ways you can't even imagine. The price of his mistakes—of the secrets he kept—is one you'll have to pay."
My heart skipped a beat, but I didn't let the panic show.
Kael's smile grew, sharp and cold. "But don't worry. It's not about punishment. It's about purpose."
"Purpose?" I asked, voice edged with suspicion.
Kael's gaze shifted to the shadows behind me, where the other members of House Umbra had silently gathered. Their eyes glowed faintly in the dark, watching me like vultures circling their prey.
"You'll understand soon enough," he said.
Suddenly, the arena shifted again. The walls began to change, twisting like liquid, warping into something new. My surroundings became a labyrinth of mirrors, their reflective surfaces shimmering with an unnatural light.
I wasn't alone in this maze.
A figure stepped from one of the mirrors—tall, dark-haired, wearing a black leather jacket. He was almost too perfect, like someone carved him from stone, but with a gleam of life in his eyes.
I knew who he was before he even spoke.
"You've heard of me," he said, his voice low, teasing. "Kael's right hand."
Kael didn't have to introduce him. This was Lucien, the one who'd mocked me when I first stepped into the House. The one who had made it clear that my survival would be a game.
He approached slowly, eyes scanning me like I was some kind of puzzle to solve.
"I assume you know what comes next," he said, his tone a blend of curiosity and amusement.
I didn't respond immediately. The labyrinth of mirrors around us was disorienting. Every reflection of myself seemed distorted, twisted. But it wasn't the mirrors that unsettled me—it was the feeling that this wasn't just a test. This was something else. Something darker.
Lucien tilted his head. "Not going to answer me? How quaint. But I know you have questions. I'll make this simple."
He raised a hand, and with a flick of his fingers, one of the mirrors behind me shattered, revealing a figure standing in the reflected space.
My heart clenched.
It was a mirror image of myself.
The same dark hair, the same pale skin, the same eyes. But this version of me had something I didn't: a smile. A smile that felt like it belonged in a nightmare.
"You'll have to face yourself," Lucien said, his voice soft with amusement. "Or rather, the version of yourself that Nocturne demands you become. The question is—can you kill what you might become?"
I took a step back, my pulse quickening. The reflection of myself in the shattered mirror moved with fluid precision, as though it could read my every thought. Its smile stretched wider, more grotesque.
No. I won't let it get to me.
"I'm not playing your game," I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.
"Oh, but you will," Lucien replied. "Everyone does. You just have to survive long enough to choose which version of yourself you're going to become."
And just like that, the mirror self lunged.
I barely had time to react. My reflection was faster than I expected, slashing out with unnatural speed, its hands striking with the force of a predator. I dodged, spinning away, but it was already on me, its cold, mocking smile never fading.
I threw a punch. It blocked. I twisted, grabbing its arm and flipping it to the ground. But as soon as I did, it was back on its feet—faster, stronger.
We danced around the labyrinth of mirrors, my reflection mimicking my every move. I tried to outsmart it, but it anticipated my every step, my every counter. It wasn't just a fight—it was a battle of wills. A fight against my own fear, my own weaknesses.
Then, I saw it.
A broken shard of the mirror at my feet, jagged and sharp.
With a grunt, I picked it up and hurled it toward my reflection. The shard pierced through its chest with a sickening crunch. My reflection stumbled back, its smile faltering for the first time.
I didn't hesitate.
I grabbed another shard and stabbed it straight through its heart.
The reflection collapsed, crumbling into shards of glass. The labyrinth fell silent.
Lucien's voice echoed through the dark. "Well done. You've passed the second test."
I didn't look at him. I didn't need to.
I had killed the part of me that was supposed to break me.
But I knew the truth.
The price of power wasn't just blood.
It was everything you were willing to lose.