Chapter 1
Seph
“It may not be that bad,” Beth said beside me. “I’ve heard Dr. Marr does great work with kids like you. Maybe you’ll finally make some friends. A fresh start, right?”
I didn’t answer. Civilization smeared past the window—houses thinning into farmland, then into woods and fields that went on forever. The Shaggy Mountain Range hung on the horizon like a jagged promise: a fence, indifferent and immovable.
It made sense.
I was going to prison.
They called it the Darkmoor Institute, a “special school” for problem students. Perfect for ‘correction’.
The Lightwoods had raved about it. They had sent their own son there, Damien Lightwood. He went from troubled teen to upstanding citizen in a matter of a year.
Like he was a completely different person.
And now his younger brother Victor was there too.
But to me, a prison is a prison.
Beth sighed softly. I felt her eyes on me, waiting for me to break — to cry, to scream, to be anything other than this hollow shell beside her.
But she didn’t understand.
There was nothing left to break.
My fingers brushed the beaded bracelet on my wrist — pinks and greens that didn’t suit my black clothes, but I couldn’t take it off.
I wouldn’t.
I miss her.
Beth sighed again, heavier this time, like she wanted to pull me back from somewhere far away. So I gave her a weak smile, just to ease her worry. It wasn’t her fault I was here. She had always cared for me as best she could. She’d practically raised Sable and me.
Don’t think her name.
“Your mother hopes you’ll do well here,” Beth said quietly.
I couldn’t help it — I snorted.
“My mother hopes to hide me here. We both know that.”
“Seph, darling, your mother loves you… she just has a hard time showing it—”
I touched her arm with my gloved fingers — gentle, but final.
“I’m not a child anymore, Beth. I don’t need fairy tales to sleep.”
“Seph—”
“Beth,” I said softly, cutting her off before she could gather more comfort to hand me. “Thank you. For trying. For caring. For coming with me today.”
I looked back out the window, the reflection of my face ghosting over the trees as they blurred past.
I tried to fight the images that were seared to my mind.
The faces.
Those boys.
But I couldn’t.
“I know why I’m here.”
We fell into silence for a moment, my heart getting heavier and heavier with each kilometre.
Finally, the institute came into view.
It rose stark against the horizon — a white scar on the land, perched high on a plateau. Around it, the earth lay stripped and barren, as if the place had torn whole pieces of forest from its roots just to exist. Like a fungus that had devoured what once lived there.
The building itself was massive, half hospital, half prison. It had once been the Darkmoor family estate — rulers of Velithra, back when magic still meant power. Years of neglect had left it rotting, until someone decided to turn decay into purpose.
Now it housed the most dangerous young people in the country.
And it was my new home.
“Remember the rules, Seph,” Beth murmured beside me. “Keep your head down. Work hard. Listen to the teachers and the doctors. And by all means—”
“Don’t let anyone see what I can do,” I finished for her. “Yes, Beth. I know the rules.”
When we pulled up to the heavy wrought-iron gates, a guard was already waiting.
He couldn’t have been more than twenty-something, but there was a practiced coldness in his expression that I didn’t like.
He looked me over — slow, assessing — and I saw the moment he decided I was just another problem.
“We have Persephone Harrin at the gate,” he said into the radio clipped to his vest.
A woman’s voice crackled through the speaker, sharp and thin.
“Harrin? Brilliant. Send her up.”
There was a note of satisfaction in her tone — the kind that made my stomach turn.
I sank lower in my seat.
Harrin wasn’t my name. It was a safe name. A forgotten name.
At least that was some kindness.
Being a Quinn carried weight — the wrong kind. My parents were the shining faces of the Council of Light.
I still remembered my father’s face from that night.
The way he looked at me.
Like he was scared of me.
Like this was my fault.
Gideon and Georgina Quinn had built their reputation on order, purity, and punishment. And now the problem they’d kept hidden for the last 5 years was being dropped at the country’s most infamous magical institution.
I wished I could peel the name off my skin.
Here, being a Quinn didn’t mean respect.
It meant every kid behind those walls already hated me — because most of them were here thanks to my father and his Pure Light initiative.
“Harrin, huh?” I said to Beth.
“It’s just a precaution.” Beth assured, “Warden Miranda Wild has made an arrangement with your father to ensure you are… protected.”
When we reached the front entrance, a guard and a tall, willowy girl were waiting for us.
The girl was blonde and immaculate, dressed in a crisp white blouse and skirt. When she smiled at me, the air itself seemed to warm — a coaxing kind of comfort that tugged faintly at my chest.
For a heartbeat, I almost smiled back. Then I realised what she was.
An empath.
I saw it in the aura clinging to her skin — a soft, sickly pink meant to instil calm, but it only made me tense.
She noticed the flicker of hesitation in my face, and I forced the smile back on. Pretending was second nature now.
Pretending anyone’s powers affected me at all.
It was exhausting.
“Persephone Harrin?”
The girl stepped forward and lifted a delicate hand to shake mine. Beth took it for me and I sent her a grateful look.
“Beth Lyon. I’m Seph’s guardian.”
“I’m Lyra Vale,” she said, her voice light, melodic. “I’ll be showing you to your room assignment and around the school.”
“This here is Ivan. He is a guard at the school and will talk to you about the rules regarding your stay here at Darkmoor.” She gestured to the dark, foreboding guard beside her with his giant muscles and ugly scowl. He grunted at me but kept his hands firmly down.
My Stay.
Like this was a fucking resort.
“Great.” I smiled.
“Warden Wild has asked to see you when you arrive, Persephone.”
“Seph,” I corrected automatically.
Lyra pursed her lips, the pink glow of her aura tightening like a noose. “I don’t like shortening names, Persephone. It’s gauche.”
“Okay then,” I murmured, glancing at Beth. She just shook her head sadly.
Don’t make a scene.
Beth lifted my bags from the back seat and set them on the pavement beside me.
“I’m afraid you can’t come in with her, Beth,” Lyra said, her face arranged into a perfect mask of sympathy.
Beth’s sigh trembled, and tears filled her eyes. “That’s fine. We can say goodbye here.”
I caught her hand, desperate to hold her in place, but she gently pulled free. “It’s for the best, Seph,” she said softly. “And it’s only for a year.”
Beth was the only person I ever wanted to hug now. The only one who’d ever truly cared, outside Sable.
But she stepped back. And my arms remained empty.
So I wrapped them around myself.
It’s for the best.
“Be a good girl, alright?”
“Will I hear from you?” I asked.
She hesitated. “No. Your father wants you to focus on getting better and not—” She bit her lip, unable to finish.
Something inside me cracked, then hardened over.
“Right. Catch you around, then.” My voice came out clipped, cold.
She turned away, climbed into the car, and drove off.
She didn’t look back.
It would’ve meant something if she had.
“Don’t worry,” Lyra said, her grin sharp as glass. “Darkmoor has you now. And you’re never getting away.”