The most dangerous ideas aren't found in books. They're whispered in the dark between rivals. Lysander Thorne's proposal was simple: perform a passionate, public affair for the judges. Fake a romance to win the fellowship. "It's just theater," he said, his smile a blade. "We give them a story so compelling, they'll have no choice but to crown one of us." I should have refused. But I was hungry. For the prize. For the win. For him. I agreed to the lie. I didn't know it was our first lesson in a much darker curriculum. Or that the Society was already watching. ********* Updates twice a week.