Chapter 60: The Blood Oath Below
They didn’t tell anyone where they were going—not even Liam.
Evelyn knew the risk, but she also knew the deeper she got, the more she needed silence to stay alive. And tonight, Mia was finally giving her the key to the Society’s most guarded secret.
A passage beneath the old arts building.
No blueprints.
No record.
Just a rusted door behind the forgotten kiln room and a stairwell that spiraled into the belly of the school.
“It’s not monitored,” Mia said as they descended. “Not officially.”
Evelyn glanced over. “But unofficially?”
“They monitor it through us.”
Mia’s words were like glass—sharp, reflective, and more than a little dangerous.
The stairs narrowed the further they went, until even the air changed—thicker, damper, tinged with mildew and something Evelyn couldn’t name.
The walls were lined with old bricks, blackened with age, interrupted occasionally by vents that no longer hummed.
When they reached the bottom, Mia stopped beside a steel door sealed by a biometric scanner.
She pressed her palm to the pad.
A flicker of red scanned her skin, then turned green.
Access Granted.
The door clicked open.
Inside was a room nothing like Evelyn expected.
It wasn’t filled with glowing servers or files.
It was ancient.
Stone floors.
Candle fixtures.
Rows of wooden chairs arranged like pews.
And at the center—an altar.
Covered in a velvet cloth.
Atop it: a thin ceremonial dagger, a bound book, and a carved wooden mask shaped like a serpent devouring its tail.
Mia’s voice lowered to a whisper. “This is where they hold the initiation ceremony.”
Evelyn’s stomach turned. “This is the heart of the Society?”
Mia nodded. “Every new leader is sworn in here. Every successor takes the oath with blood. They call it The Oath of Continuity.”
Evelyn moved closer to the altar, the heavy air clinging to her skin like smoke.
“What’s in the book?” she asked.
“No one knows,” Mia said. “Only the new head reads it.”
Evelyn stared at the mask. “Then whoever wears that next... that’s our next target.”
Mia hesitated.
Then said, “You’re not going to like who it is.”
They sat on the stone bench near the back of the room while Mia explained.
“There’s a ceremony planned for the night of the Gala,” she said. “Right after your speech. While the school’s watching you, they’ll be down here… crowning the new head.”
Evelyn frowned. “So they planned to let me talk?”
“They planned to let you burn yourself alive,” Mia replied. “And while the flames are up there, they’ll solidify control down here.”
“Who’s the successor?” Evelyn asked.
Mia looked at her—really looked at her.
And whispered:
“Nathaniel.”
Evelyn’s heart didn’t drop.
It snapped.
“I thought—” She shook her head. “I thought he was just a puppet. A legacy brat. I thought Caldwell or Whitmore were calling the shots.”
Mia shook her head. “They were. But he’s been preparing for this since before you were even engaged. Since you were marked.”
“Marked for what?”
“For sacrifice,” Mia said softly. “They choose one. One girl. Each cycle. Someone tied to the heir. Someone to blame. To break. To use.”
Evelyn’s blood turned cold.
“It’s not just about control,” Mia said. “It’s about continuity. The Society believes the world reshapes around pain. One voice must be ruined to ensure another rises.”
“And mine was chosen?”
Mia nodded. “You were his test. His ritual.”
Evelyn stood, pacing.
“So if we stop the ceremony—”
“We don’t just ruin the tradition,” Mia said. “We shatter their future. Without the Oath, the new head can’t be named. It throws everything out of alignment.”
Evelyn turned back to the altar.
Her voice was calm. Measured.
“Then we end it here.”
They left the chamber with a map—Mia sketched it roughly on Evelyn’s notebook cover, marking the entry, the corridors, and the guards who sometimes rotated through under different Society roles.
As they walked back through the kiln room, Evelyn’s thoughts churned.
They needed proof.
A recording.
A witness.
Anything that could stop the ceremony before it began.
She was halfway to calling Clara when Mia grabbed her wrist.
“Wait.”
Evelyn turned.
“I’m risking everything,” Mia said. “If they find out—”
“I won’t let them touch you.”
Mia laughed bitterly. “You won’t have a choice. No one ever does.”
Evelyn stepped forward.
“You chose this, Mia. To help me. That matters.”
Mia looked away.
“Does it? Or am I just looking for a different kind of power?”
Evelyn didn’t answer.
She didn’t know how.
Later that night, back in the garage, Evelyn laid out the plan.
Clara scanned the sketch, her eyes wide. “They’re really going through with it.”
“Tomorrow night,” Evelyn confirmed. “And Nathaniel’s the one wearing the mask.”
Liam cursed under his breath.
“We have to get footage,” Clara said. “Something they can’t deny.”
Evelyn nodded. “I’ll wear a pin cam. Hidden in my jacket.”
“What if it’s guarded?” Liam asked.
“Then we improvise.”
“And if they catch you?”
Evelyn looked at him, calm.
“Then they’ll finally know who they’re dealing with.”
Outside, the wind picked up.
The sky darkened.
And for the first time, Evelyn understood:
This was never just about revenge.
This was about inheritance.
And she would not let them claim the future.
Not hers.
Not anyone’s.