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Acolytes dressed in crimson robes and cowled hoods that hide their faces appear at either end of every row. On one end, the acolytes have baskets full of vials, on the other, they have collection baskets. They pass out the vials, and the small glass bottles are passed from student to student until we all have one. The stopper on the vial has a sharp pin, and I glare at it as the priestess finishes her prayer.

I don’t want to offer my blood, but as everyone around me presses their fingers to the pin, I have no choice, lest I draw more unwanted attention. Most press their thumb to the vial, but I place my middle finger, the tip of the needled stopper pressing into the pad.

What if I didn’t? What if I said fuck you, instead?

My gaze slips to the acolyte at the end of the row. I can’t see their face, but I swear I can feel their attention on me. I quickly look away and prick my finger. The pain is brief, and a drop of blood splashes onto the stopper, which is spelled to let the blood pass through and into the vial. I stare at the crimson liquid, a complicated mix of emotions stirring in my gut.

The Goddess is the entire reason I even exist. It’s strange to resent her, and part of me is consumed with guilt for being angry. There are billions on this planet. Why would she bother with only one? There are forces bigger than me at work. I shouldn’t hold it against her, not to mention, I could use her help. Swallowing my pride and anger, I send up the same prayer I’ve sent up year after year.

If you’re there, please help me find my sister.

“Here,” Ever hands me her vial.

Taking it, I hand mine and hers to Bree, who continues to pass them down. I straighten in my seat and look toward the pulpit, stiffening as my gaze collides with the priestess’s. She’s staring at me.

A shiver rushes down my spine.

Can the priestess read minds?

Throat dry, I swallow and look away, guilt digging into my marrow. As the tithing completes, the priestess begins the seven prayers of the goddess. I peek at her, find her eyes lifted toward the sky, and breath rushes out of me.

The last thing I need is her to take an interest in me.

Discomfort sits beneath my skin. I spent half the night and all of today trying to get the image of the priestess out of my head, but I swear every time I close my eyes, I can see her staring. Seeing through my soul, plucking the strings of resentment and anger, chastising me for being angry with the Goddess. The other half of my time was spent scouring the sites of other paranormal universities, but I still can’t find anything about Addy. I’m starting to wonder if I ever will.

Ever arrives at my door in the late afternoon, and she’s a welcome distraction. “You’ve been hiding all day.”

“No, I haven’t,” I lie, stepping back from the door to let her in.

She enters and immediately turns on me, eyebrows lifting and hands on her hips. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Wallowing in self-loathing? Contemplating life? Wondering what the point is?”

“Oh, no. I mean, I know you’re trying to get out of the fall bash, and I’m here to make sure you come with, but let’s circle back to self-loathing. Are you okay?”

“Generally speaking, yes. It’s only a mini-existential crisis.”

She hums, looking me over. “You’re sure?”

“I promise, it’s all good.”

For a moment, I think she might press me, but she lets it go. “Well, then, Bree and Eli are meeting us at my room to get ready. I’m here to personally escort you so you don’t get lost and miss the whole party.”

“These halls are pretty big. Never know when you’ll take a wrong turn.”

Ever walks her fingers along the top of the mahogany desk by the bed. “Uh-huh. And you would never purposefully take one, right? Because you love parties and socializing?”

“Exactly.” I shrug. “It would be a total accident."

She peeks in my closet, pulling back to give me an open-mouthed, wide-eyed look. “I’d kill for this closet.”

“Do you mean that theoretically or in class?” Because as the year progresses, she may end up killing someone. Kind of like getting really drunk at a party, murder is just part of the university experience for paranormals.

“No, talk about reality. Tonight, I want to pretend like I’m a princess going to a ball.”

“Yes, highness.” I dip into a bow.

She giggles. “Okay, let’s go. We have to get ready.”