I fled hell to escape the demon in my blood.
Part of me wishes I’d stayed.

I came to Aradis for sanctuary. Instead, I found a prison.

The Seraphs can’t decide if I’m an enemy or an ally. So, they offer me a choice: rot in chains or prove my worth in the brutal coming-of-age trials.

I choose to fight.

The trials will probably kill me. They’re designed to cull the weak. I don’t have wings. I don’t have training. And other contenders would gladly see me dead.

I don’t want to need Syrus. The demon in my mind is as dangerous as he is impossible to ignore. I try to shut him out.

But when the trials get their hooks in me, Syrus’s whispers are the only thing keeping me alive. His velvet thoughts coil through my mind, and I’m powerless to resist him.

But Syrus isn’t my only problem. What I’ve kept caged is rattling the bars, and if it breaks loose where the Seraphs can see, no trial will decide my fate.

They’ll decide I’m demon-touched.

And what the ephilium do to spies makes the trials look like mercy.

Survive the trials. Hide the demon. Don’t fall for him.