Season 1, Episode 1: "The Mark"
Scene 1 — The Town of Blackridge
The sky hung low over Blackridge, thick with clouds that refused to cry. Everything about the town felt muted—like it was holding its breath.
SAGE VALEMIRE walked the edge of the woods, boots brushing frost-bitten grass, headphones pulled low over her ears. But no music played. She liked the silence now. It helped her listen. Not to the wind—but to the feeling crawling beneath it.
Her hands were stuffed in her coat pockets, one curled tightly around a small silver charm her mother had left her. A charm, she'd once been told, to keep things out. She wasn't sure what those things were, but lately… they'd felt closer.
Her phone buzzed once. A message from her foster sister, JUNE:
"They're doing sweeps again. Don't be outside. You're unregistered."
Sage sighed and looked out toward the tree line. A low mist was curling between the trunks. Something was watching her again. But when she turned, the path behind her was empty.
Scene 2 — The Night of the Hunt
That night, Blackridge held its breath for a different reason.
Everyone knew what the black vans meant. They rolled in like whispers, without headlights, gliding over asphalt like death on wheels.
Sage pressed her back to the alley wall behind the corner store. From the rooftop above, she could hear it: the hum of a device, the clink of chains, the scent of blood in the air. Someone was being taken.
Her heart thudded wildly. She hadn't registered at the center. Not since her last test had revealed something… off. Something in her blood that flagged every scanner red and made the nurses speak in hushed voices.
Then she heard it.
A voice.
Velvet-smooth. Low. Cold.
"She's close."
She didn't wait to see who it was. She ran.
Scene 3 — Captured
She didn't make it far. Not with the dart in her neck.
Her vision blurred, and the alley spun. She hit the ground hard. The last thing she saw was a pair of boots approaching—black, polished, and ancient.
And a voice, laced with amused curiosity:
"Unclaimed. Untouched. Unbound. What a lovely little lie you are."
Then darkness.
Scene 4 — The Auction Hall
Sage awoke in silk.
Her wrists were shackled to velvet-covered arms of a strange chair. Her clothes had been changed into something formal—dark lace and chiffon, corseted tight like she was being dressed for a funeral. Or a wedding.
All around her, the room was filled with whispers and glittering masks. People didn't speak names here. They spoke bids.
She wasn't alone.
Other humans stood in glass cages. Boys and girls. Some defiant. Some drugged. Some already claimed.
Then came the moment.
A chime rang. The hall fell silent. And he entered.
Lucien Draven.
Tall. Cold. Eyes like the winter storm before lightning strikes. They said he hadn't claimed a pet in decades.
He looked at Sage and stilled.
"Her," he said. "The unmarked one."
"She hasn't been blood-verified yet," the handler whispered. "She's… unstable."
Lucien's lip curled. "Perfect."
He walked toward her. Knelt beside her chair. Reached out.
Sage jerked away, but his hand caught her chin with cruel grace. He tilted her face toward the light, inspecting the silver charm still clutched in her fingers.
"You're not like the others, are you?" he murmured. "Good. I don't like things that behave."
He stood.
"Mark her. She's mine."
The seal was burned into her skin before she could scream.
Scene 5 — The Collar
Later, in the shadowed carriage speeding toward the Dominion, Sage sat across from Lucien. Her hands were still shaking. Her throat burned from the collar's sigil seared into her skin.
He said nothing for a long time. Then, as the lights of Blackridge disappeared behind them, he spoke softly—like a promise and a warning.
"This world will take everything from you if you let it. But I'll teach you how to take it back."
Sage stared at him, eyes burning.
"I'm not yours," she whispered.
His smirk was all fang.
"Then run. And see how long the world lets you believe that."
Outside, the trees wept frost. And the night swallowed her name.
Episode Ends