The night air hung thick over St. Ivy High, the shadows restless as if the earth itself knew that blood would be spilled before dawn. Eira Carter tightened her grip on the rusted flashlight in her hand, each step toward the greenhouse feeling heavier than the last.
Baron was ahead, his jaw clenched, the cut across his cheek still fresh from their last encounter with Jaxon. The campus was deserted, but every window felt like an eye, every tree a lurking threat.
"Are you sure this is where Selena wanted us?" Eira whispered.
Baron nodded grimly. "It was in the note. Midnight. Alone."
Eira's stomach twisted. Ever since the Masquerade, since the old gym trap and the Thorn Society's failed ritual, St. Ivy had turned into a carcass of secrets and treachery. And Selena — the girl who'd been left for dead — was back.
But she wasn't the same.
They reached the greenhouse, its glass walls streaked with age and weather, vines twisting through broken panes like skeletal fingers.
"Stay behind me," Baron murmured.
The door creaked open, and there she was.
Selena stood in the middle of the room, her dark hair a tangled mess, face streaked with dirt and blood. The moonlight glinted off something in her hand — a Thorn Society dagger, its symbol of entwined roses unmistakable.
"You came," she said, voice low and cold.
Eira stepped forward. "What is this, Selena? Another trap?"
Selena's lips twitched. "I should be asking you that, Carter. After all… it was your precious Baron who made me a ghost."
Baron stiffened. "That's not—"
Selena raised a hand. "Spare me. You left me to die in the old gym. You turned your back when Jaxon betrayed us. Now you stand here like you still matter."
Eira's throat tightened. "We never stopped looking for you, Selena."
A bitter laugh. "No. You moved on."
Baron bristled. "That's not fair."
"Fair?" Selena's voice cracked. "Fair was when I ruled this place. When my clique bowed, and my enemies feared me. And then you — all of you — destroyed me."
She took a step closer, and for a moment, Eira saw it: the girl Selena had been. Bright. Ruthless. Untouchable. Until the night they'd left her for dead.
"I'm not here for apologies," Selena continued. "I'm here because we have bigger problems."
Baron's brows knitted. "What do you mean?"
Selena lifted the dagger and stabbed it into the table between them. A piece of parchment unfurled, marked with blood.
"The Thorn Society isn't finished. Principal Morgan isn't their leader. He's their pawn."
Eira's stomach dropped. "What?"
Selena's eyes gleamed. "The real elder is coming back. Tonight. And if we don't stop them, we'll all be corpses by sunrise."
A crash echoed outside.
Baron drew his knife. "Jaxon."
Selena nodded grimly. "And he's not alone."
Before Eira could react, the greenhouse door burst open.
Jaxon strode in, flanked by Amara and Leo — both pale, their eyes glassy and hollow, bearing the same mark on their necks. The Thorn Society's brand.
"Well, isn't this sweet," Jaxon sneered. "The broken queen, the loyal pup, and the traitorous knight. Ready to die together?"
"Not tonight," Baron growled.
Selena stepped forward, the dagger back in her hand. "You picked the wrong side, Jaxon."
"I picked the winning side."
Eira felt a cold hand around her wrist. Mason.
"No—" she gasped, struggling.
Mason's grip tightened. "They promised us eternal life, Eira. You can't stop it."
Baron lunged, slamming Mason into a table. The greenhouse erupted into chaos. Dagger met blade, glass shattered, blood spattered the floor.
Eira grabbed the parchment as Selena fought Amara, their struggle primal and vicious. Jaxon and Baron clashed, their weapons sparking as they struck.
Then — a voice.
Calm. Ancient.
"Enough."
Everything froze.
From the shadows, a figure emerged. Robed in black, the Thorn Society's crest gleaming at their chest. The face beneath the hood made Eira's blood run cold.
Principal Morgan.
But different. His skin corpse-grey, eyes sunken but burning with unnatural life.
"Children," he rasped. "Did you really think you'd won?"
Selena spat blood. "We ended your ritual!"
Morgan smiled, cracked lips peeling back. "That was one vessel. I have many."
He lifted a hand.
Amara and Leo's eyes rolled back, and they dropped dead where they stood.
"No!" Jaxon cried.
Morgan's gaze turned to Eira. "You. The last Carter. I've been waiting for you."
Eira's heart pounded. "I'm not afraid of you."
"You should be."
In one motion, Morgan crossed the room, too fast for a man, and gripped Eira's throat.
"Your blood wakes the Elder," he hissed.
Baron slashed at him, but the blade passed through air. Selena hurled the dagger — it lodged in Morgan's chest.
A terrible scream.
The body crumbled.
But not before Morgan whispered:
"It's too late."
Outside, the ground trembled.
A crack split the earth beyond the greenhouse.
And from it, a figure began to rise — pale, impossibly ancient, eyes like empty black pits.
The true Elder of the Thorn Society.
Selena, battered and bleeding, stared in horror.
"Eira," she whispered, voice breaking, "run."