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RULE 1 OF THE NEW ORDER: TRUST NO ONE—NOT EVEN THE DEAD, FOR THEY HOLD MORE SECRETS THAN THE LIVING.
He’s probably pissed he was outbid today at the underground meeting where men like him go to bid on people like me—Avids—people with unique abilities who only the most wealthy families can afford to purchase.
Do I tell him I’m a woman who’s been trafficked for the last eight years and the family that owns me is the most prolific, murderous one in the entire country? And the reason I’m so valuable to them is because I can talk to the dead? No, I probably shouldn’t tell him that, but it would be funny to see his face if I did.
“If I were your husband, you’d never have to be alone. Not because you need protecting—but because I’d make damn sure you never wanted to be anywhere else.”
Fear keeps people in line. Fear of the unknown, of what lies beyond the realms of our borders, and of the Volkov family’s reach. They say the monarchy saved us, but when the truth is written by those who rule, trust becomes a luxury none of us can afford.
When you wake up in a hospital and see ghosts, it’s not exactly something you can tell your doctor, unless you want a one-way ticket to a padded room.
The term Avid comes from Avidus, meaning hungry, eager. They call us that because it represents our innate hunger for survival and freedom.
“You really are a marvelously violent little demon, aren’t you?”
It’s too charming, far too dangerous. The kind of smile that could make someone forget all the red flags waving in the background.
For now, I’ve opened a door. Whether it leads to salvation or disaster, only time will tell.
His embrace doesn’t falter, his strength a silent reassurance that he’s here, that I’m safe. And for a fleeting moment, I let myself believe it. I let myself exist in this fragile, fleeting bubble of comfort.
We want to dismantle the districts and strip the ruling families of their power. The world needs more than tyrants hoarding what’s left of it. It needs hope.”
“Secret bookshelf, creepy hallway, hidden elevator in the middle of a too-quiet neighborhood. So tell me—are you a serial killer, or is this a cult?”
“You taste like sin, and I plan to indulge in every damn bit of you.”
“You Avids,” he says snidely, “you’re supposed to be the untouchables. The pets no one wants to play with but that everyone wants to own.”
RULE 23 OF THE NEW ORDER: ANSWERS OFTEN HIDE IN THE MOST UNEXPECTED PLACES—KEEP AN OPEN MIND AND LET GO OF ASSUMPTIONS, OR RISK MISSING THE TRUTH.
“You’re more than I deserve, but I’m selfish enough to want you anyway.”
“This is my normal now, you’re my normal now. The world will have to adjust,”
