Chapter 80: The Call of Blood

I didn’t tell anyone what I saw in my room that night.

Not at first.

How could I? “Hey, guys, Gregory’s sister just paid me a midnight visit and whispered cryptic doomsday poetry in my ear.” Yeah, that was going to go over really well. Elena would probably throw salt on me like I was a cursed casserole, and Ethan would hook me up to a monitor until he found a rational explanation.

So, instead, I walked into the kitchen the next morning like nothing had happened.

Elena was already there, raiding the fridge. She had her hair tied up in a messy bun and was humming something off-key as she shoved a fork into last night’s leftover lasagna.

“You’re up early,” she said, mouth full.

I raised a brow. “That’s breakfast?”

“Don’t judge me.” She stabbed another bite. “Lasagna doesn’t have a time limit.”

Ethan stumbled in next, rubbing his eyes and carrying his laptop under one arm. He glanced at Elena, then at the lasagna, then back at her. “You know carbs slow your reflexes, right?”

Elena glared. “You know your reflexes are nonexistent, right?”

He grinned faintly. “Touché.”

I poured myself coffee and sat down at the table, letting the noise of them fill the silence. For a moment, it almost felt normal. Almost.

Then Aidan walked in.

His presence shifted the whole room like gravity had just changed direction. He didn’t say anything at first, just poured his own coffee, leaned against the counter, and looked at me. Really looked at me. Like he could tell I hadn’t slept.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

I forced a smile. “Define okay.”

“Breathing. Eating. Not planning to sneak out and fight ancient witches alone.”

Elena snorted. “Oh, she’s totally planning that. Look at her face. That’s a ‘sneak out at midnight and stab things’ face.”

I shot her a look. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” she said sweetly, shoveling more lasagna into her mouth.

Ethan raised his mug. “She’s right, though.”

I groaned. “Why do I hang out with any of you?”

“Because without us, you’d be dead,” Elena said cheerfully.

“Not helpful,” I muttered.

Aidan leaned forward, his gaze steady. “Seriously, Rox. What’s going on?”

I hesitated. I could’ve lied. I could’ve brushed it off. But the weight in his eyes, the way his voice wrapped around my name—it broke through my walls.

So I told him.

All of it.

The figure in my room. The words. The way the air froze around me.

When I finished, silence fell.

Ethan sat down slowly, his fingers tightening around his mug. “You’re saying she… manifested? Inside the estate?”

“She wasn’t just a vision,” I said firmly. “I felt her. She was real.”

Elena muttered a curse under her breath. “Okay, I hate this. I hate everything about this. We need holy water. Garlic. Whatever people use for evil ghost-aunties.”

“It’s not funny, Elena,” Echo’s voice cut in from the doorway. She stepped into the room, her expression unreadable. “If she can reach Roxanne here, it means the trial isn’t waiting anymore. It’s starting.”

A chill ran through me. “The Blood Oath.”

Echo nodded.

Callum appeared behind her, looking as grim as ever. “And if she’s right, then you don’t have days or weeks to prepare. You’ve got hours.”

“Hours?” I repeated.

“Maybe less.”

Ethan rubbed his face. “Okay, so what do we do? Can we stall it? Block it? Hack it?”

Echo shook her head. “You don’t hack blood.”

Elena slammed her fork down. “Well, I’m not just letting her walk into some creepy Harbinger ritual alone. If she goes, I go.”

“Same,” Ethan said, surprisingly quick.

“You can’t,” Echo said flatly.

“Watch me,” Elena snapped.

“This isn’t like fighting Gregory,” Echo replied. “It’s not an enemy you can stab or outsmart. It’s blood calling blood. Only Roxanne can take it.”

The words landed like a stone in my chest.

Aidan’s hand found mine under the table, squeezing gently. “Then she won’t take it alone,” he said.

I looked at him, my throat tight. “You heard her. This is mine.”

“Maybe,” he said softly. “But I’ll still be there. Even if all I can do is stand on the edge.”

Elena groaned. “You two are gross. Like, honestly disgusting. Can’t you pick a less apocalyptic time to flirt?”

Ethan chuckled weakly. “I think it’s cute.”

Elena glared at him. “You would.”

Despite everything, I laughed. Just a little. And for a second, the weight on my chest loosened.

\---

We spent the rest of the morning preparing.

Not weapons, not gear. Ourselves.

Ethan kept muttering about wanting to build some kind of fail-safe tracker, so if the ritual went south, he’d know where to pull me out. Elena sharpened every blade in the armory, even though Echo told her again that weapons wouldn’t matter. Callum disappeared for a while and returned with a flask that smelled like fire and regret, muttering, “For later.”

And Aidan… he stayed close. Always close.

At one point, when the others were distracted, he pulled me aside.

“You’re scared,” he said gently.

“Of course I am.”

“You’ve been scared before.”

“This is different.”

He brushed a thumb along my jaw, his eyes burning into mine. “Then let me be scared with you.”

I almost broke right there.

Instead, I leaned forward and kissed him. Soft, quick, desperate.

When I pulled back, Elena’s voice shouted from the other room: “I KNEW IT! PAY UP, ETHAN!”

A groan followed. “Damn it.”

I blinked. “Wait… you two were betting?”

Ethan appeared in the doorway, sheepish. “In my defense, she made me.”

“You’re both dead to me,” I muttered.

Elena grinned like the devil. “Oh, this is the best day of my life.”

Despite myself, I smiled. And maybe that was the point. To remind me that even in the middle of blood oaths and prophecies and shadows, I wasn’t just a Harbinger. I was still me.

At least, for now.

\---

That night, the moon bled.

We saw it from the courtyard—the way its pale silver shifted to crimson, the way the fog around the estate glowed like embers. The hybrids stirred restlessly, the air thick with unease.

And deep in my chest, I felt it.

The pull.

The call of blood.

I looked at my friends—my family.

And I knew.

It was time.