PROLOGUE
Centuries ago, humans wanted to dominate, so they launched a sweeping campaign to wipe out supernatural beings: Vampires, Wolves, Witches and Wizards.
For a period of time, the humans succeeded, until these supernatural beings chose to unite for their survival, despite being bitter enemies for a long time.
Their combined force became terror for the humans and soon they wiped out entire cities, bloodlines and histories of humans.
To prevent another uprising, the dominions forged the Kingdom of Aetherion, where the supernatural ruled and humans suffered.
Under this new order, humans became the lowest caste, retreating to the edges of the kingdom.
In the aftermath, the dominions established the Aetherion Royal Academy, a school designed to train the strongest heirs from different dominions, with the purpose of choosing one rightful successor to become Ruler of the kingdom.
Humans were never meant to be students because they were powerless, irrelevant and expendable but the dominions needed playthings: so men were drafted as soldiers, while females were sent to the Academy as tools for amusement.
The humans had no idea that they were going into the academy to be tortured, instead they believed getting into the academy was a chance to marry a dominion heir and escape their life of poverty.
For Sephyra Dorne, an orphan living under the cruelty of her stepmother and stepsister, getting into the academy was an opportunity for her to escape their endless abuse and humiliation.
Chapter 1
Dawn had not yet broken, but Sephyra was already awake and cleaning.
The stone floor beneath her knees bit through her thin gown, numbing the skin over her already bruised knees but there was nothing she could do, other than to scrub hard and fast. She couldn't risk Lucinda or Mariselle waking to even a speck of dust.
Her fingers stung as she cleaned, the skin around her knuckles split in places due to her daily routine of waking before dawn, cleaning, cooking, and enduring the cruelty of her stepfamily.
"What's this mess?" A cold feminine voice swallowed the silence, she took two steps further and immediately kicked the bucket to the floor.
Sephyra's shoulders tensed, as water poured over the freshly cleaned tiles, soaking the hem of her gown, chilling her further.
Mariselle moved back to the doorway, her arms crossed, and her lips curled in disgust. Even at dawn, she wore fine silk… proof of her pampered life.
"I didn't even step foot in here," she began with a smirk, mischief obvious in her words. "And somehow you still manage to mess up everything."
Sephyra kept her head down and picked up the bucket. "I will clean it again."
"Oh, I know you will. This is what you were made for after all."
Sephyra swallowed the fear rising in her throat, still not looking up. If she did, Mariselle would take it as insolence.
"You worthless wretch, look at me when I talk to you."
Sephyra lifted her gaze slowly, a shiver crawling through her, as her heartbeat fluttered.
Mariselle's eyes gleamed. "The cursed child herself." She crouched down so their faces were inches apart. "You know, it's your fault Father died. Everyone knows it's the curse that you possess that killed my father and your stupid mother."
A hot sting welled in Sephyra's eyes, but she didn't say a word.
Mariselle suddenly reached forward and grabbed a fistful of Sephyra's hair, yanking her head back sharply. That move sent pain shooting across her scalp, enough to blur her vision.
"Is that anger I see on your face?" Mariselle hissed. "How dare you get angry?! Ungrateful little witch!"
"I —I am sorry," Sephyra whispered in a broken voice.
"Louder!"
"I'm sorry," she said again, a little more clearly though her voice snagged on the words.
"Pathetic," Mariselle's lips formed into a cruel smile as she shoved her backwards. Sephyra's back collided with the table, knocking over a small bowl that shattered across the floor.
"Oh look at that. You broke something again," she tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with delight.
"I didn't mean to…"
Just then, Lucinda appeared in the room.
"Did you just break my plate?" The older woman thundered, before moving to Sephyra and slamming her hand hard across her cheek. The force of the slap knocked Sephyra to the ground, her head spinning.
"You dare to destroy things in my house?" Lucinda's fingers clenched at her sides, and her eyes flashed with fury. "This is the only thing you are good at."
"Mo—Mother, It wa— was a mis— take—"
Another strike came, harder than the first. Her head whipped to the side, as stars danced in her vision.
Lucinda's lips pulled back in disgust. "I have warned you to never call me your mother."
Mariselle sidled up beside her smugly. "This one always forgets that her good-for-nothing mother is rotting seven feet below."
The raw hatred in Lucinda's eyes increased when she noticed Sephyra was putting on her late mother's gown. At once, she grabbed the front of the dress and hauled Sephyra up. "Did you wear this on purpose?" she quizzed, sneering at the brownish-white dress.
"Oh, mother, I think I know the reason," she paused and continued after Lucinda turned to her. "It may seem as though this fool wore the dress for the selection."
"Is that true?" Lucinda turned back to Sephyra, staring daggers at her. "Did you really think an idiot like you would be considered?"
Sephyra shook her head frantically. "No. I—I only wore it because my dress is torn."
"You could have mended it!" Lucinda snapped.
"I didn't have a needle—"
A hard shove silenced her.
"She's lying, mother. She plans to get into the Academy."
"Imagine it! A filthy human like her stepping inside the Academy walls. They'd toss her out in a heartbeat."
"Or kill her on sight," Lucinda muttered. "Honestly, I don't know why we haven't thrown you out already. You bring misfortune into this house. You always have."
Sephyra's chest tightened with an old, familiar grief. They blamed her for everything, for the death of her parents, for every broken plate, for every illness, for every misstep. It was a small miracle Sephyra didn't burst into tears. Her eyes burned, but she kept them lowered.
Lucinda pushed her backward, making her slip and stumble into the spilled water. Her hands shot out for support and unfortunately caught the corner of the fireplace, which made pain shoot through her palm where old burns had barely healed.
"Look at her," Mariselle scoffed, delighted by the fear trembling through Sephyra. "She's shaking like a leaf. Are you cold, little mouse? Or are you just afraid? You should be. The world out there won't pity you."
Lucinda glared down. "Stop wasting time, Mariselle. Get ready. When the Dominion scouts arrive, you must look perfect."
Mariselle immediately brightened, excitement replacing cruelty. "Do you think they'll notice me? The heirs, I mean."
"Of course they will," Lucinda said warmly. She was warm only to her daughter. "You're the Dorne heiress. They'd be fools not to want you."
She shot Sephyra a cold look. "Unlike this one who isn't even fit to be called human."
Sephyra lowered her head further, wishing she could disappear, wishing she could melt into the floor.
The distant sound of horns cut through and Lucinda and Mariselle froze.
The Dominion scouts had arrived.
Mariselle squealed in excitement. "They're here! Mother, they're here!"
Sephyra's heart began to race, not with hope, but with dread. Lucinda spun toward her. "Leave and stay hidden. If anyone sees you, I swear I'll—"
A heavy knock thundered against the front door.
Lucinda cursed under her breath and stormed toward the entryway. "Mariselle, smile. Fix your hair. Now."
Mariselle ran.
Lucinda shot Sephyra a venomous glare. "Get to the back. Keep your mouth shut. And if you embarrass us—"
She didn't need to finish the threat. Sephyra hurried into the narrow hallway, pressing herself against the shadows. She heard voices at the entrance. The deep clank of armor. The measured steps of Dominion soldiers.
Inside the room, a witch moved forward, tall and draped in dark robes that shone faintly like smoke. Her eyes glowed with an eerie pale blue light and her face was expressionless. "Is there another girl in this home?"
Mariselle looked at her mother, urging her with a small nudge to deny it but Lucinda's lips pressed together, calculating quickly. She knew a few things about witches; how they could perceive the faintest trace of life, therefore she knew any lie would be seen through.
"Yes… There is but the true Dorne heiress is here," she replied with a fake smile, moving closer to Mariselle. "The other girl is a mere servant."
"Bring her."
Lucinda stormed into the hallway and grabbed Sephyra's arm so hard the girl gasped. Leaning close, she whispered, "Say nothing. Look down. If you ruin Mariselle's chances, I'll make sure you never see daylight again."
She dragged Sephyra to the doorway and pushed her forward. "This is her," she said quickly, "but she's useless and weak. Her talent begins and ends with cleaning, nothing more. She won't survive the Academy—"
The witch didn't even look at Lucinda. Her cold gaze remained fixed on Sephyra, whose hair was streaked with dust and grime that fell in tangled strands.
"Both of the Dorne girls have been chosen."
Mariselle's voice rang out. "What?"
One of the soldiers, who had been standing close to her, chipped in. "But Mariselle is the rightful Dorne heiress. This other one is nothing. She is filthy and will only shame the Academy." His tone suggested familiarity, a subtle hint of interest in Mariselle.
With no warning, the witch turned to him and spoke two words: "Get them."
Lucinda froze.
Mariselle choked on her breath.
Sephyra's heart stopped entirely.
The witch walked away. Dominion soldiers stepped forward immediately, seizing both girls by the arms.
Before the soldiers could lead the girls out, Lucinda roughly grabbed Sephyra's arm and whispered, "Do not dare to hope. The tests will devour you long before you pass them."