Chapter 3 The Invitation

POV: Rory Hale

The first thing I noticed when I woke up wasn't the pounding in my skull. It was the silence.

Too normal. Too incorrect.

The classroom looked precisely the same as before the teacher scribbling calculations, students chatting about homework, Tyler flinging paper balls across the room. Like nothing had occurred. Like the lights hadn't exploded. Like time hadn't stopped. Like Kael Draven had never existed.

But his voice still echoed in my head.

Remember my name... because I'm the only one who can keep you alive.

By the time I stumbled home, my nerves were raw. My stepfather's pickup was already in the driveway, crooked as usual, like he didn't care if it blocked half the street. The peeling paint on our modest yellow house made it look worn, much like me.

I promised myself I'd sneak upstairs before he noticed me, but the second I opened the door, voices filled the living room.

Not his voice.

Strangers.

I froze, hand on the doorknob. Three people in dark suits stood in our living room. They looked strange here, too sharp against the sagging couch and beer-stained carpet. My stepfather, who generally seldom saw anything, was sitting straighter than I'd ever seen him, jaw tightened.

One of the strangersa woman with glossy black hair twisted into a tight bun, turned as if she had been waiting for me. Her smile was chilly and piercing.

"Rory Hale."

I was tense. "Who are you?"

"You'll know soon enough," she said effortlessly. "We're here on behalf of Obsidian Academy."

I blinked. "Obsidian what?"

Her smile didn't falter. "An institution for the gifted. And you, Miss Hale... are gifted."

A bitter laugh split from me before I could stop it. "You've got the wrong girl."

"No, they don't." My stepfather's voice was gravelly, yet certain. He didn't look at me, only rubbed the back of his neck like he'd been carrying a secret for too long.

I stared at him. "You know them?"

His eyes eventually met mine. For once, he looked... scared. "Rory, they've been waiting for this. For you."

My stomach flipped. "What are you talking about?"

The woman approached closer, her heels clicking on the bent wood floor. "We don't have time for hesitation. You've already been marked." Her gaze slid to my arm. "You felt it today, didn't you?"

My blood went cold.

The bright rune. The freezing classroom. Kael Draven's warning.

I pulled my sleeve down. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Denying it won't change what you are." Another agent, a tall man with black eyes, eventually spoke. His voice was low, powerful. "Your kind doesn't belong here. And if you stay, you'll destroy yourself and possibly others."

I shook my head, backing away. "This is insane."

But my stepfather's voice stopped me cold.

"You have to go, Rory."

I turned on him, betrayal scorching my chest. "You want me to leave with them? You don't even know them!"

His expression was steely, but guilt flickered in his eyes. "I know enough. Your mother... she knew this day would come."

The words hit me harder than a slap.

"My mother?" My throat clenched. "What does she have to do with this?"

"She was one of them," he mumbled, glancing away. "Not... human. Not entirely. She intended to inform you when you were ready, but then she..." His voice broke off. He didn't finish.

Grief and anger twisted inside me. "So you're saying she lied to me my whole life?"

"She protected you," he snapped, then quieter, "I thought I could protect you too. But I can't. Not from this."

The woman stepped forward again, her tone like steel wrapped in silk. "Rory, you need to come with us. Obsidian Academy is the only place you'll be secure. The only place you'll obtain answers."

Answers. The word scraped at me.

Kael's warning lingered in my head. Don't trust anyone. Especially not the ones who smile at you.

And yet... my stepfather, who never cared about anything, was nearly urging me to go.

I put my arms about myself, whispering, "And if I don't?"

The tall man's eyes tightened. "Then you won't survive the month."

A chill raced down my spine.

The third agent, silent till now, crept closer. He was younger, maybe mid-twenties, with dark blond hair and disconcerting blue eyes that didn't blink often enough. When he spoke, his voice was nearly a whisper.

"She's the Marked One."

The other two froze. My stepfather paled.

My heart thudded so loudly it blotted out everything else.

"What?" I demanded, but no one answered.

The woman flashed the younger agent a stern glance, but the words were already carved into the air like a curse.

The Marked One.

And I had no notion what it meant.

Rory's world tilts again as the agents close in, her stepfather requesting she leave, and one frightening revelation hanging in the air

She is the Marked One.