02

CORA

By the time I reached the house, my breath was short and my hands were shaking. I ran up the steps, hoping I was wrong, hoping I had imagined everything. The front door was half open. My mother’s voice came faintly from the kitchen, asking if it was me. I didn’t answer.

The scroll was there. Another one. The golden seal glinted on the small table near the cracked window. It wasn’t a mistake.

I stared at it for a long time. My chest felt tight, like breathing took effort. The same seal, the same council mark. I reached out slowly, my fingers brushing against the cold wax. For a moment, I thought about tearing it apart and pretending it never came, but lies don’t change reality. I knew better.

I sat on the edge of my bed, the scroll still in my hand. My heartbeat wouldn’t slow down. The bed creaked when I leaned forward and pressed my palms to my face. I didn’t want my mother to see me like this. She had already passed through a lot handling my father till he left us, already seen enough.

I tried to stay quiet, but the tears still came. They weren’t loud, just cold tears, quick breaths that hurt on the way out. I didn’t even realize when my body gave up and I fell asleep sitting like that.

*

When I woke, the room was bright. The sunlight slipped through the thin curtain, cutting across the floor. My throat felt dry, and my eyes burned. The scroll was still there on the table, untouched, waiting. I didn’t open it. I didn’t need to. I already knew what it said.

A loud knock hit the door.

“Cora!” It was Kira’s voice, fast and panicked. “Open up! They’re coming!”

I froze.

She kept banging harder. “Please, you have to leave now! The guards are going house to house—anyone marked for the Rite, they’re dragging them out!”

I looked at the scroll, still sealed, still mocking me. “Running won’t change what they’ve already decided,” I said quietly. My voice sounded flat, like it belonged to someone else.

Kira hit the door again. “Don’t say that! If you run, maybe they won’t find you. They can’t mark what they can’t catch!”

“I know enough,” I said.

Silence fell on the other side. Then I heard her footsteps fade.

I stayed still for a long time, staring at the floor. The sound outside grew louder — voices, footsteps, whispers. The neighbors were up. Everyone always knew when something bad was about to happen.

“The priest is reading the list in the square,” someone said outside my window.

“The Rite is back?” another replied.

I walked to the window and looked out. The street was filling fast. People were walking toward the square. Some looked worried, others curious, like they were heading to a show. My chest felt heavy, but I grabbed my shawl and stepped out anyway. I needed to know for sure. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe it wasn’t me.

The closer I got, the thicker the crowd became. The priest stood at the front beside two guards, his hands steady as he unrolled the scroll. His voice was cold and clear.

Shock was evident on my face when I realised many other women were on that list but only my name was called.

I tried to stay calm. My hands were trembling, but I kept them hidden inside my sleeves.

I still doubted it until he called my name.

“Cora Ria Bell.”

The sound barely left his lips before the crowd reacted. A few people turned instantly.

“Did he say Bell?”

“That’s her.”

“The rejected one.”

Their voices mixed together until I couldn’t tell who was saying what.

“Ria Bell,” someone muttered. “So she’s her father’s daughter after all.”

Laughter spread through the crowd. Some people looked away in pity, and I hated that more than anything. Others didn’t bother hiding their smirks. I could feel their eyes burning into me.

I saw Marissa before I saw him. She stood beside Ruel, dressed perfectly as always, pretending to look concerned. Her hand rested lightly on his arm, her expression soft enough for sympathy, but her mouth curved just slightly — not enough to call it a smile, but enough to make me want to break something.

Ruel didn’t look at me. He didn’t even flinch. He stood there calm, composed, like everything happening had nothing to do with him. Like I was a stranger.

Something broke quietly inside me.

The crowd parted a little as I pushed through, but no one stopped staring. I heard the whispers following me, but I didn’t care anymore. My name had been spoken, and that was enough.

When I reached the street again, my legs felt weak. I didn’t know where to go. Home wasn’t safe, and nowhere else felt real. The air was colder now, goosebumps against my skin.

I kept walking until I couldn’t hear them anymore. My thoughts were spinning, and my hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

The Rite of Despair. No one came back from it. Everyone knew that. And now my name was the only one that list.

I didn’t cry this time. There was nothing left to cry about.

By the time I reached the end of the street, my hands were shaking. I pressed them against the wall, trying to breathe. The tears came before I noticed, warm on my skin, salt on my lips. I stayed there until my legs felt weak and my throat hurt.

For the first time, I hated everything: the moon, the pack, the people who pretended to care and I hated Ruel most of all.

That night, I didn’t sleep. I sat in the dark staring at the scroll on the table, the seal already broken. The words were short and cold: Selected for the Rite of Despair. Present at dawn.

I tore it in half before realizing it didn’t matter. The guards would come anyway. The priest had already spoken my name, and everyone knew.

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. About the way he stood there, silent, watching me fall apart. About how he looked at Marissa like she was everything I wasn’t.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I was already moving. I grabbed my cloak, slipped through the back door, and stepped into the rain. The streets were quiet, just the sound of water hitting the rooftops. I didn’t care who saw me. I just needed to see him.

The guards outside his wing barely looked up when I passed.

I found his door and knocked hard once.

It took a while, but he opened it. His hair was messy, his shirt undone, his eyes cold the moment he saw me.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone flat.

“I need your help,” I said, my voice shaking. “Please, Ruel. I don’t deserve this. You know I don’t.”

He leaned on the doorframe, studying me. “You should’ve thought about that before embarrassing me in front of everyone.”

“I didn’t do anything,” I said quickly. “You did this. You let them…”

He cut me off with a short laugh. “Get out, Cora.”

“Ruel, please.”

“Out.”

He shoved the door, and I stumbled back. It slammed shut, the sound loud against the rain.

I stood there, shaking, staring at the door like it might open if I waited long enough. But it didn’t.

And that’s when it hit me: whatever part of me that still believed he cared was gone.

For real this time.