Eighteen-year-old Seraphine Valen's life shatters after a blood-soaked tragedy leaves her the sole survivor. But survival comes with a price-she discovers she wields an unholy power: the ability to command death itself. Her touch can end lives, her...
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Nothing good ever follows a whistle at dawn.
It tore through the crisp morning air. Not just a sound—no, this was a summons. A battle cry demanding war against stiff limbs, burning lungs, and the sweet temptation to quit.
"Warm up, maggots!" Coach Briggs barked, pacing with his ever-present clipboard. His voice carried over the track field, making everyone groan inwardly.
I was already sitting on the damp grass, stretching my legs. The chill of the early morning nipped at my skin, and the muscles in my thighs protested with every stretch. Sports were not my thing, but extra credit was. My grades needed the boost. I was just praying I'd make it through without anything... strange happening.
I glanced around, trying to block out the chatter of my peers. Ayra, the school's self-proclaimed queen and the human embodiment of every shallow Instagram influencer cliché, strutted onto the field. Her high ponytail gleamed like spun gold in the sunlight, perfectly coordinated with her skimpy shorts and cropped tank top that looked more like lingerie than athletic wear. She looked like she'd just walked off the set of a smutty teen drama, that stupidly smug smirk plastered on her glossed lips.
Heads turned-boys and girls alike-but her gaze was fixated on one person: Aaron. The brooding guy from literature class.
His flirtatious smirk alone was enough to make me want to throw up my breakfast. And trust me, it was a good breakfast-cooked by yours truly, though Glenda nearly tore the house down because I dared to cook in "her" kitchen. For me to want to toss it just because of his insufferable grin? That alone said something.
I rolled my eyes as Ayra made a beeline for him, her pink nails curling possessively around his wrist. She dragged him close, planting an obnoxiously dramatic kiss on him. I winced inwardly at the PDA overload.
Then Ayra's sharp, green-eyed gaze flicked in my direction. She caught me staring and sneered, her expression oozing disdain. Aaron began to turn his head, probably curious about who she was glaring at, but Ayra cut him off with another kiss, her grip tightening on his wrist.
Cliché, I thought with a mental groan, looking away. Of course, the brooding pretty boy ends up with the queen bee. It was like living in a bad teen movie, complete with a terrible soundtrack.
"Hey," a timid voice came from behind me.
I stiffened. Kira.
"I thought I made it clear," I said without turning around. "Leave me alone."
"I was only looking out for you," she replied, sitting down next to me despite my cold tone.
I sighed heavily and glanced at her. Her brown eyes were filled with a mixture of concern and something I didn't want to acknowledge-care. "You shouldn't worry about me," I said flatly.
"I can't help it," she said softly. "You scared me yesterday. You were frozen solid, Seraphine. You even stopped breathing at one point."
Her words made me pause, my fingers halting mid-stretch. I hadn't realized it was that bad. But I couldn't let her know that.
