1. Alina

The Day of the Choosing

White dress.

Flat sandals.

Freshly brushed hair.

I study my reflection in the mirror, the woman staring back at me one I barely recognize. She looks innocent. Pure. Matrimonial.

All that's missing is the veil. That gauzy piece of flimsy bullshit meant to hide my face.

Maybe I should let it fall to the ground and step on it a little? I muse. What's another broken rule?

My tally is nearly forty for this quarter alone, hopefully guaranteeing I'll be selected for this year's Monsters Night.

Everyone thinks I'm crazy. No one wants to get on that fateful train, the one that leaves lightning sparks trailing in the wind as it heads toward Monster City.

But I know something they don't.

A secret my sister shared via a note.

A note she somehow slipped under my door during last year's Choosing Ceremony.

There's an Elite City,her familiar scrawl read. Find an old map, Lina. Look for Chicago. I'll be waiting.

It could all be a trick. A lie. A way to seduce me into volunteering for Monsters Night. But what choice do I have? Serapina is my sister. She's all I have left in this world. And she's out there somewhere, waiting for me.

I wrongly assumed she'd been captured. Claimed. No longer of this earth.

I wallowed. Cried. Mourned the loss of my younger sister, the last remaining member of my family.

Then her note appeared, inspiring renewed hope. It also left behind a taste of guilt. I'd given up on her. How could I? I knew better. If anyone could survive in this cruel world, it was Serapina.

I have to find her.

And if it all ends up being a hoax, then I'll fight until my dying breath. Slay every beast in my path. Refuse to submit.

This dress will look amazing covered in monster blood,I think, eyeing myself once more. Streaks of black and red marring the too-white fabric. Hmm.

Every year, new dresses appear for the women. Always white. Always bridal. The men are given tuxedos. It's like a fucking wedding, only none of us willingly walk down the aisle.

Well. Almost none of us.

I volunteer, I muse darkly. Take me to Monster City. Let those creatures try to mate me. They'll soon learn I'm not worth the effort.

Or that's the plan, anyway.

Fight. Run. Hide. Look for an old map.

I will survive. And I'll find my sister. There is no other option.

Because I can't stay here.

The men are starting to look my way with a little too much interest. I'm two-and-twenty now, the perfect age for breeding.

I have no parents to guard my virtue.

No older brother to ensure I'm not taken against my will.

The Village Protectors—a false title for the humans in charge of maintaining order in our mountain settlement—won't step in to intervene.

I'm alone.

Vulnerable.

And, unfortunately, my rebellious behavior over the last year only seems to have inspired more intrigue.

The men over five-and-thirty are eligible to start a family, and most of those men select women around my age to be their wives.

There's a whole process involved, one that basically removes the woman from the Day of the Choosing selection pool—if the proposal is approved, anyway.

And given that everyone between the ages of eight-and-ten and five-and-thirty are required to enter, a potential marital agreement is favorable to some.

But it does not appeal to me.

Because I don't want a husband.

Yet, for whatever reason, that seems to make me more attractive to some of these older men.

Just like Sage,I think, wincing. She's just as defenseless as me, perhaps even more so.

I close my eyes, my body vibrating with nerves as I picture Sage next door. Taking care of her mother. Preparing for today's ceremony. Hoping and praying that she survives this year's Choosing.

She's all her mother has left. If she's selected…

My lips flatten, my urge to protect her making my heart beat faster. Sage is like a sister to me. We grew up next door to each other, and she's the same age as Serapina, which once made them good friends.

But with Serapina being gone, Sage and I have grown closer.

A significant portion of my extra entries these last four quarters were a result of me donating resources to her and her "outcast" mother.

And a few of my other entries were consequences of me being caught outside after curfew.

If only the Village Protectors knew my real reason for being out late all those nights…

Sage will have to take over that task once I'm gone. I've tried to prepare her, but the village security changes weekly. Unfortunately, that means her likelihood of getting caught is high. Just like it has been for me.

A few extra entries hopefully won't result in her becoming an Offering for Monsters Night, because the young silver-haired girl isn't made for that fate. She's too small. Too innocent.

Although, the same could be said about Serapina.

And me, I realize, taking in my five-foot-two height.

Shaking my head, I step away from the mirror as bells begin echoing through the air.

"Shit," I mutter. I'm going to be late.

Shivers traverse my spine, causing me to turn quickly toward the door, my veil clutched in one hand. Over two decades of training has instilled this response in my being. No matter how many times I rebelled these last twelve months, I can't quite shake the need to obey.

Especially today.

While the brides and grooms are the mandatory participants in the ceremony, all families are mandated to report to the town square to observe. Or rather, celebrate, as our Village Viscount requires.

Ice coats my veins as I think of our infamous Nightingale Village leader. He's taken three brides in the last decade, his reason being a need to procreate and ensure our people survive. As a result of his sacrifice, he's been granted more resources to help care for his growing brood.

Three more men have followed his example, and several others are considering the same path.

It wouldn't bother me as much if they were choosing women close to their own ages. But all three of our Village Viscount's wives are young enough to be his daughters. Hell, his latest pick could have been his granddaughter.

Not my problem,I tell myself as I wander down the dirt path that leads to our village's only road.

Except the sounds of soft steps behind me have me pausing and glancing over my shoulder at Sage's bowed head.

I wince as I think about her falling into a potential trap with these men. Her unique silver hair, bright blue eyes, and porcelain features have turned multiple heads her way these last six months.

She just turned twenty.

That makes her more than eligible in the eyes of those older men.

"We're going to be late," she whispers to me as she reaches my side and nudges me to continue walking.

"I just said that to myself a minute ago," I say back to her, my lips curling. "What do you think they'll do? Imprison me? Add another entry to that creepy-as-fuck cauldron?" The Chalice, as our Viscount calls it, is a sacred emblem in our village. It houses all the entries inside its eerie obsidian interior.

"Lina," Sage admonishes, using my nickname.

I simply smile wider. "What, Little S? Worried they might jump out and seize me?"

Little Sis my nickname for her even though we're only two years apart in age and roughly the same height. Something about her just feels so much younger to me, maybe because I still see her as the little girl who befriended my sister all those years ago.

"Yes." Her bright eyes are earnest as she answers my sarcastically phrased question. "I'm worried… worried you'll…" She swallows. "What if…? What if it's a dozen again? Like when…?" She trails off, the statement finishing automatically in my mind.

Like when Serapina was selected.

The quota of Offerings changes every year, the number one that won't be announced until our Village Viscount begins the ceremony.

A dozen Offerings were required the year Serapina was chosen. Hers had been the final name drawn out of that ominous Chalice.

Most years only demand five or six Offerings, but not that fated Day of the Choosing.

I clear my throat. "You have nothing to worry about, Sage. I'll be fine."

"What if they pick you?" she asks in a rush, her bare feet whispering over the ground as my sandals clip annoyingly. "You gave us so many meals, so much water, all at your own expense. If they choose you?—"

"It'll be because I wanted to be chosen," I interject. "Don't you dare feel guilty, Sage. I used you and your mom as a cover for my own desires." I've told her this before, that I want to be an Offering. But she thinks I'm lying, that I'm only telling her that to make her feel better.

"Lina," she breathes, her hand finding mine as she forces me to stop walking. "I know what you've done for us. I appreciate it. But you don't need to lie to me."

"I'm not lying," I promise her.

She shakes her head. "You are. No one wants to be chosen. No one wants to suffer Monsters Night."

"I do," I insist.

Her blue eyes harden, her characteristic softness melting away to reveal the fierce woman beneath the porcelain exterior. "Stop trying to assuage my guilt, Lina. I'm not nearly as na?ve as you think I am."

Sighing, I pull my hand from hers and wrap my arm around her shoulders instead. "I'm not trying to assuage anything, Sage. I'm telling the truth."

She huffs, clearly ready to push me away.

And I realize this may be the last time I'll ever see her. Because if I'm selected today, I'll be immediately escorted to the Lightrailer—yet another stupid name created by our Viscount.

It's a train, I've wanted to correct him several times. A. Damn. Train.

It just happens to move very quickly.

Regardless of the name or its intended destination, the reality is that I'm leaving. Or rather, I hope to be leaving. Which means this is my chance to say goodbye to Sage, and I really don't want to leave her like this.

"Sage," I say softly, holding on to her as she tries to squirm away from me. It's a very sisterly thing to do, which instantly makes me think of Serapina and how I used to do this very thing to her whenever we argued over something trivial. Being two years older provided me with some additional strength.

At least, that's what I used to jokingly say to her.

But as Sage is proving now, age is just a number.

"Let's just go," she snaps, her fiery side out in full force. She rarely shows it to anyone in public, mostly because it's not allowed.

Women are meant to be submissive. The perfect brides. That's all our studies teach us, anyway. Because we'll be mated to either a monster or a man in the village. Regardless, we are destined to be owned.

Unless we run, I think, my teeth grinding together. "There's an Elite City," I mutter, causing Sage to freeze.

"What?" She blinks at me.

"Serapina…" I glance around, ensuring we're nowhere near any buildings where recording devices might overhear our conversation. They're tricky little instruments used by the Village Protectors to spy on us. I'm not sure how they work, or what they even look like, but I've heard rumors of their existence.

However, we're nearly to the road now, the only stalls around us filled with empty bins meant for fruits and vegetables.

"Serapina left me a note last year."

Sage's eyes widen. "A note?"

I nod. "During the ceremony."

"How?"

"I don't know," I admit. "But it was her handwriting." So I have to believe it was real. To consider anything else just isn't feasible. She's alive. I'm going to find her. We'll be together again. Somewhere. Somehow. Someway.

"Why are you just now telling me this?"

"Because I want to be chosen," I stress. "I… I need to find Sera." It's a nickname I usually only reserve for my sister in private, but Sage is basically family.

Which made withholding this information hard. But I wanted to protect her.

And, if I'm being honest with myself, I wanted to protect my secret as well.

Trust has always been a hard concept to accept.

But if I could trust anyone in this village, it would be Sage. Maybe in another lifetime or in alternate reality, that could have been possible.

Still, I need Sage to understand that she isn't to blame for my choices.

"Sera's out there and she's waiting for me. All I know is I have to search for the Elite City she mentioned in the note. Chicago, she called it. That's why I've accepted all the extra entries. You and Paulina don't owe me anything."

Paulina is Sage's mom. She rarely leaves their house, her outcast status exempting her from today's events. Hence the reason her daughter is here alone.

"Don't blame yourself if I'm chosen," I went on. "Please understand and believe me when I say I want this."

She gapes at me with wide, unblinking eyes for a long moment, the bells' echoes growing more insistent with every passing moment. "She survived Monsters Night."

"She survived Monsters Night," I repeat, nodding. "And so will I."

"By finding the Elite City?"

"Yes."

"Chicago," she echoes, causing me to nod again.

"I'll be fine," I tell her. "And so will you. Just keep your head down. Avoid the Viscount and his Barons." That's the title the other men in his circle have taken on, their titles demanding respect from the other villagers.

"I don't know how to do that," Sage tells me. "They… they keep showing up at the gardens, Alina."

"Just don't do anything to draw attention to yourself." I pull her into a hug, my mouth near her ear. "Only trade entries for resources you really need. And don't break any rules. If I've learned anything this year, it's that being a rebel makes you more of a target."

For indecent offers.

Promises of false protection.

Interest that's a little too personal.

I don't tell her those things, just leave it all unsaid. Because she knows better than anyone what happens when a female is seen as weak or easy prey. Her mother is living proof of how women are punished for the sins of men here.

"Remember what I told you," I continue softly. "Wednesdays. Ten p.m. South Street by the cornfield. He'll have a flashlight in his left hand, not his right. And he only accepts smoked meats."

I've told her that a hundred times now, yet I can't help doing it one final time.

"Stay safe," I add, tears pricking my eyes. "And if you're ever chosen, look for an old map. Find Chicago."

I let go of her before she can reply, the ringing loud and overwhelming in my ears.

I don't mind drawing attention to myself by being late, but Sage needs to hide. As well as she can with that silver hair, anyway.

Swallowing, I start toward the main road once more with Sage right behind me.

She says nothing, just grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze.

I release her when we near the festivities, the veil still clutched in my opposite palm.

With a deep breath, I slide the combed ends into my dark hair.

And genuinely pray for the first time in my very short life.

Please call my name.

Please call my name.

Please call my name…