Everyone at the doors of the ballroom was beautiful. Wylla felt as if her own dress was nothing compared to the six other women. Kikimora and Nocnitsa kept Wylla Adler near the corner.

Wylla pointed at a girl with pale skin with a gorgeous black dress, having gold detailings. She wore short black gloves and had her black hair pinned up. "Who's that girl?"

"Hala Shang," Kikimora said, crossing her arms. "The other six girls are the other choices for being King Leviathan's wife, in other words, your competition. Don't be fooled, these girls are in Hell for a reason."

"That's Jahi Lin," Nocnitsa whispered in Wylla's ear. Jahi wore a more traditional East Asian dress, dressed in navy and dramatic sleeves. She had cute black bangs and a soft look to her. "I heard Jahi murdered her best friend."

"Oh." Wylla recoiled from Jahi's soft appearance. The other girl in the other corner had a blue, flowy dress with big sapphire gems. There was a certain frost about her that stood out. "What about her? She looks like Elsa from Frozen, or Frozen 2."

"I don't know that film," Nocnitsa said, rubbing the back of her neck. "That's Krasue Haxley. Krasue is a beauty, but she isn't King Leviathan's—ah, what do you youngsters call it—type. He prefers natural beauty, not makeup."

"Bastard," Wylla muttered under her breath. How does Paisley even like this guy?

Kikimora tilted her head. "What did you say?"

"Nothing! I was just asking who that girl in the gray suit was," Wylla covered up quickly, her cheeks red. The girl also stood out, the only woman to wear a suit instead of a gown. She wore black heels and had a pixie cut like Nocnitsa's, but her skin was a faded black.

"That's Onoskelis, she was born a demon, so she knows the rules of Nadivis."

Wylla blinked. "Onosk-what?"

"It's a common name in Hell."

"Of course it is." Wylla fixated her eyes on a girl with a black dress and a flirty expression. It was sheer and allowed to reveal more skin, which was something Wylla desired—self-love. "That girl's pretty, she's going to win Leviathan's hand."

"She goes by Rán," Kikimora pressed a warning hand on Wylla's shoulder. "Rán is beautiful for a reason, she was bred to marry King Leviathan. Don't make friends with her."

"Wasn't planning to," Wylla snapped suddenly, surprising Kikimora and Nocnitsa. There was the last girl who looked discouraging, scowling and barking at her maids. She wore red, having jutted roses trail down her layered black gown. "She looks kind of mean."

"That's Rusalka," Nockitsa said, irritated. Rusalka had her wavy brown hair covering one half of her face, something Wylla found strange. "I heard gossip that she had an accident when travelling the vortex to Nadivis, so her left eye got scarred. She was going to be runner-up for King Leviathan, but...with the scar, it's unlikely she'd be chosen."

"Oh."

"Still, Rusalka will be an enemy, trust us," Kikimora said as someone entered the room. Everyone bowed, so Wylla felt her cheeks heat up when she managed a late sloppy one.

"Someone is new," Rusalka laughed under her breath. Looks like Kikimora was right, Wylla frowned. King Leviathan wasn't what Wylla expected—he wasn't a weird oldie, he looked only a few years older. He wore a black suit that matched his long horns and swinging devil tail.

"Ladies, welcome to Nadivis, I wish you fit in comfortably," King Leviathan said, walking around the foyer like he owned the place. Well, he does, but Wylla didn't like his smugness. "Tomorrow, one of you women will wake up as Hell's new demonic queen."

Suddenly, the doors to the ballroom opened. Nocnitsa tapped Wylla's shoulder. "We'll join you later," she whispered as she and Kikimora slipped back into the shadows. Wylla growled and joined the other selections.

"You must be Paisley Ambrose," Onoskelis said, unimpressed, baring her sharp teeth. Do all demons have sharp teeth? Gosh, kissing must be a pain. "I expected nothing more from a mortal."

"My name is Wylla Adler," Wylla said, her brows knitting together. "And I can assure you, Paisley and I are nothing alike."

"Wylla," Rán said, grinning evilly. "Oh, we'll have a wonderful time."

She was bred to marry King Leviathan, Kikimora has said. "Sorry, can't talk right now," Wylla muttered, brushing past Rán. You're not here to make friends. Survival was what Wylla Adler knew best, but even she questioned how far her malice went.

"So you're the replacement for Paisley," Rusalka said suddenly as they entered the ballroom. It was dazzling, brighter than any area of the palace. It was elegant and exquisite, Wylla just wanted to spin in the center of the ballroom.

Rusalka sneered. "It shows, new girl."

"Okay," Wylla said, crossing her arms. "That's fine with me."

She growled. "What did you say?"

"I'm not trying to start a fight, we all have the same goal tonight," Wylla said simply, leaving Rusalka by herself, and heading over to a table. It had the most luxurious foods, she picked up a glass of sparkling water and sniffed it. It looked like normal water to her, she didn't understand the rich people's craze for sparkling water. Was it supposed to be fizzy?

Hala and Krasue were already talking to King Leviathan, Rán was hiding in the corner, Onoskelis was elsewhere, and Wylla was fully aware that Rusalka was still glaring at her.

Suddenly, Leviathan walked out of Hala's conversation with him, heading over to the table with Wylla. She downed her glass of water, set it on the table, and picked up another one. Don't screw this up, it's a competition, Wylla would have so much power if she married King Leviathan. She couldn't afford to lose.

"So you're the replacement of Paisley Ambrose," King Leviathan said, picking up a glass of wine. He sipped on it, offering another cup to Wylla. She backed away, scrunching up her nose. "You're not much of a drinker?"

"My name is Wylla Adler, and yes, I'm not much of a drinker," she murmured, grasping the glass' thin handle. She felt the stare of everyone in the gala as she licked her lips. "I travelled through the vortex instead of Paisley."

"Well, I hope you're liking Hell."

"Nadivis is too hot for my liking, Leviathan."

He arched his brows. Crap, did I mess up? Wylla thought as he set down the glass of wine. "It's King Leviathan, you know, out of respect."

"Whatevs."

King Leviathan bit down on his tongue. "You are quite the conundrum, Wylla. But I expected Paisley."

"Oh, that's rich," Wylla said, suddenly angry, rolling up her fists. This ungrateful brat— "Maybe next time, you can tell Paisley to not try to go through a vortex when she invites her friend over to a sleepover. Maybe that's a valuable lesson for you, King Leviathan."

King Leviathan was taken aback, but he grinned. It was a selfish, foolish grin that Wylla did not trust. "Let me tell you something, here's another valuable lesson—value is power, and power is value."

Win his favour. "Another lesson is you never know who is behind the mask."

The man walked away, smirking. Just another prize for him to win, Wylla knew. Suddenly, Kikimora and Nocnitsa burst through the doors and waltzed over to Wylla. Nocnitsa was grinning. "He looks thoroughly interested."

Wylla clenched her teeth. "He's an arrogant man, that's what he looks like."

"Whoa, whoa," Kikimora held up her hands. "Baby girl, what happened? Did he piss you off? Don't worry, he pisses all of us at times."

"Nadivis doesn't deserve a horrible ruler like him—"

All voices went silent as King Leviathan crossed his arms. "Nadivis, I have found my bride. Her name is Wylla Adler and she will be a delightful game, she is the future of Hell."

Wylla's cheeks went red as Jahi cried out in rage. "You haven't even met most of us! How is this outrage justified?"

Rusalka suddenly lost it. "YOU'RE A LIAR, KING LEVIATHAN! YOU PROMISED ME! Ever since I had gotten that ugly scar, you've discarded me! I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS—"

"Gag her," King Leviathan ordered as demons in black suits walked forward. Rusalka screeched, backing away. They grabbed every inch of her body as she shrieked. King Leviathan remained calm and even laughed. "Show her scar."

No one moved forward to help her as Rusalka screamed. "Not my scar—"

One of the suited men brushed her hair out of the way to reveal a fleshy scar that dragged down her left eye. Rusalka screamed again, but it was full of pain, and she crumbled to the floor, sobbing.

"Ladies and gentlemen, watch Rusalka, the weak woman who would have never been a good fit for Nadivis," King Leviathan said, amused. Rusalka was dragged out of the ballroom as Wylla's stomach was twisted in knots. "The girl whose beauty was all ruined by an ugly scar."

She's not ugly, Wylla thought. She didn't like Rusalka, but even Wylla's heart of malice admitted that she deserved better. As demons went to congratulate the King of Hell, Wylla stared at the other selections.

Hala was crushed, bawling her eyes out, clutching her waist. Jahi was so angry, if looks could kill, all of the guests would be dead. Krasue was tough, she wasn't showing any emotion, but Wylla knew it as a facade—Krasue was crumbling on the inside. Onoskelis was trying to distract herself by talking to other guests.

And Rán—she was walking towards Wylla. "I guess you win, new girl," she said coldly. Wylla couldn't blame her, Rán was born for the role only to lose to some girl who wasn't even supposed to be here.

"The real nightmare has only started, King Leviathan is a cruel man. We all have malice, we all were struggling and hoping for this gala to change our lives, and Leviathan let us struggle willingly." Rán avoided Wylla's gaze. "This isn't some Cinderella fairytale, it's a world of survival of the fittest. Congrats, Wylla Adler, best wishes to you." Rán left, exiting the ballroom.

"She's trying to scare you," Nocnitsa insisted. "Don't pay attention to her."

But what Rán said, made Wylla think deeply—what made the selections less deserving to be Queen of Nadivis? They were more fit and able to rule, Wylla didn't know squat. Her name is Wylla Adler and she will be a delightful game, Leviathan had said.

Was Wylla just a game to him?

King Leviathan was slowly extracting himself from conversations and heading over to Wylla. Dozens of thoughts raced through her mind, but one stood out. This isn't some Cinderella fairytale, it's a world of survival of the fittest.

"Kikimora," Wylla said, grabbing Kikimora's wrist. "I need to ask a favour."

"Which is?"

"I'm not a goody-two-shoes, I need and want power. I need justice for the others, this 'selection' isn't justified," Wylla said as King Leviathan neared. It's life or death. She whispered something in Kikimora's ear, and the demon lady was taken aback but agreed to it.

Wylla Adler will be the future of Hell.