Darren's first sensation was the cold, damp air pressing against his skin. His eyelids felt heavy, as though waking from the deepest of slumbers, but when he opened his eyes, the sight above him froze his heart.

"Kuri?" he croaked.

Kuri was leaning over him, her face pale and streaked with tears. She gasped sharply, her blue eyes wide in disbelief. A shaky hand came up to her mouth, muffling a sob.

"Darren…" she whispered, her voice breaking. "You're alive?"

Before Darren could respond, she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and knocking him backward into the coffin. The lid clattered loudly against the marble floor as Darren stumbled under the force of her tackle.

"Whoa! Kuri—!" he gasped, shocked at her strength.

"You're alive!" Kuri cried, laughter mixing with her sobs as she clung to him. Her shoulders shook, but there was a smile on her face. "I thought—I thought you were—"

"We tried to tell you," Reiko said dryly from the side, her voice even but her expression soft. "But you're stubborn."

Kuri pulled back just enough to look at Darren, her tear-streaked face only inches from his. "Don't you ever do that again," she scolded him fiercely. "I'll kill you myself if you do."

Darren blinked, overwhelmed by her outburst, but a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Uh, okay," he said sheepishly.

Larten Crepsley's deep voice cut through the moment. "There is no need to stay here. Take a walk. Reiko and I will see to this grave."

Kuri grabbed Darren's hand and tugged him out of the coffin and into the cool night air. The graveyard was still cloaked in mist, the moon casting silver light over the rows of stone markers. It was quiet—eerily so—but Darren barely noticed. His mind was racing.

"So," Kuri said after a while, her voice steadying as they walked. "You did all this to save Steve."

Darren glanced at her. "Yeah."

Kuri nodded. "It makes sense. I saw his death coming. Without your help, his life would've ended."

Darren frowned. "Wait, you saw his death?"

"Part of being… whatever this is now." Kuri tapped the crescent Mark on her forehead. "A gift from Nyx, or so I'm told."

Before Darren could reply, there was a sharp rustling sound behind them.

They turned just in time to see Steve leap from the shadows, a look of pure fury on his face. In one swift movement, he tackled Darren to the ground, his knee pinning him down and a sharp wooden stake pressed against Darren's chest.

"You took everything from me!" Steve hissed, his face twisted with pain and anger. "My dreams, my future—you took it all!"

"Steve, stop!" Darren cried, struggling against him. "I didn't take anything! I saved you!"

"You call this saving me?!" Steve spat, his hands trembling as he pressed the stake harder against Darren's ribs. "You stole my destiny!"

"Get off him!"

Steve stiffened as Kuri's voice cut through the night. He looked up to find her standing behind him, a blade glinting against his throat. Her hand was steady, her gaze blazing with an intensity that made Steve freeze.

"Drop it, Steve," she said coldly.

For a moment, Steve didn't move, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. Then, with a growl of frustration, he flung the stake aside, the wood clattering against a gravestone. Kuri didn't lower her blade until he stood, his expression shifting into something almost calm—but far more dangerous.

Steve lifted his hand and sliced his palm open with a sharp shard of the stake, blood pooling across his fingers. "I promise," he growled, his voice trembling with barely-contained fury. "I promise on this blood that I'll take you down, Darren Shan. And you too, Kuri. You should've been mine."

Kuri's eyes narrowed, her blade flashing dangerously. "I made my choice, Steve," she hissed.

"It was the wrong choice," Steve snarled. "You'll see. You'll all see."

With that, he turned and bolted into the night, his silhouette quickly swallowed by the mist.

Kuri exhaled slowly, lowering her blade. She turned to Darren, who was sitting up and rubbing his chest. "I could have him followed," she said quietly.

Darren shook his head. "No. He was terrified, Kuri. Did you see how his hands were shaking? He's not beyond saving yet. I don't want him to go down this path. It's bad enough that you…"

He reached out, his fingers brushing the crescent Mark on her forehead. Kuri flinched slightly but didn't pull away.

"Bad enough that I what?" she asked softly.

Darren sighed, dropping his hand. "Never mind."

At that moment, Larten Crepsley and Reiko appeared, their faces grim as they approached.

"Is everything resolved?" Larten asked, though he seemed unsurprised by the events.

Kuri looked away. "For now."

Darren listened silently as Larten explained their encounter with Nyx, the Goddess of Night, and Kuri showed him her newly completed tattoos—delicate, swirling marks that glowed faintly in the moonlight.

"So that's what she meant…" Kuri murmured, almost to herself. "As long as I'm around one or both of you, I won't reject the Change."

Larten didn't reply, his face unreadable.

Darren felt a knot tighten in his chest. He didn't know what Larten's plans were—what any of this meant—but for now, he was alive, and Kuri was at his side.

"Well," Larten said with a faint, almost teasing smirk. "I am famished. Why don't we find something to dine on, hmm?"

XXX

Meanwhile, in the Depths of the House of Night, Kiana Hikawa awoke in darkness, her body stiff and cold. She lay on a marble slab in the lower chambers of the House of Night, where fledglings who failed the Change were placed. Her thoughts swam sluggishly, the memory of pain and blood still fresh in her mind.

I died.

She could remember the voices—Kurda's anger, Neferet's smooth, chilling words—and then nothing.

Kiana.

Her heart lurched at the thought of Kurda. Where was he? She tried to move, but her limbs wouldn't obey her. The stillness of death gripped her… and then something shifted.

The earth beneath her vibrated softly, responding to her silent desperation. She felt it hum through her bones—her affinity for the earth awakening in response to her will.

Kurda.

With a sharp crack of breaking stone and mortar, the door to the chamber burst open, the force of her power scattering the shadows. Kiana sat up, gasping as though breathing for the first time. Her reflection caught her eye—a tall mirror in the corner.

She stumbled toward it, her legs unsteady, and froze when she saw her own face.

She was pale as a ghost. Her eyes red as her hair, reflecting her intense hunger. And on her forehead…a red crescent tattoo!

~End of Book One~