Chapter 59

CHAPTER — ELIZABETH (POV)

The walk home felt longer than usual — that strange kind of long where every streetlight buzzed a little too loudly, and every shadow stretched like it was reaching for me. Vanessa had taken a different route, wanting to stop by her grams’ old herb shop, and I had insisted I’d be fine going alone.

But five minutes into the walk, I knew I’d made a mistake.

There was someone behind me.

Not footsteps — not exactly. It was more like a presence. A weight on my shoulders. A cold whisper against my spine. Every few seconds the hairs on my arms rose like static.

I tucked my arms around myself and walked faster.

My heartbeat thundered in my ears, and I hated that I was starting to feel scared. After everything — Chloe turning, witches showing up, Bella lurking like some nightmare — I should’ve been used to fear by now.

But this was different.

Someone was here. Watching.

My breath hitched. “Okay…” I whispered under my breath. “If that’s you, Damon, this isn’t funny.”

No reply.

Great.

I stopped. Completely. The street went still around me — the kind of still that felt staged, like the whole world was holding its breath.

I swallowed hard and said louder, “Damon?”

Still nothing.

When I turned around, the sidewalk was empty. No figures. No movement. Not even a stray leaf blowing. The air pressed against me, thick and cold.

“Get a grip, Liz,” I muttered, shaking out my hands. “Stop freaking your—”

I turned forward —

And screamed.

I stumbled back so hard I nearly fell. Standing right in front of me, inches away, was the Bennett twin — the boy.

Except he didn’t look like a boy right now.

He was barefoot in the freezing night, only wearing thin boxers and a t-shirt. His skin was pale, almost gray, like he’d been sleepwalking in the cold for hours. And his eyes —

His eyes were blank.

Not shocked.

Not angry.

Not confused.

Just… empty. Void. Like no one was behind them.

“W–What the hell?” I stammered, chest tight. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t even seem to recognize me.

He just stood there, staring through me — not at me — like he was looking past something I couldn’t see.

My breath turned shallow.

“Hey…” I tried again, quieter this time. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t answer.

I took a cautious step toward him. He didn’t move. If anything, he seemed frozen in place, like a mannequin left in the street.

“Did you… sleepwalk?” I whispered. “How did you even find me?”

Still nothing.

He looked ice cold. His lips were a little blue. My stomach twisted — part fear, part instinct. He looked like someone in trouble.

I reached out and gently touched his arm. “Hey… look at me. Wake up.”

The second my fingers brushed his skin, he snapped to life.

His hand shot out and grabbed my wrist — tight, bruising, like steel cuffs. I gasped, trying to pull back, but his grip held fast.

And his eyes —

They were still blank.

His mouth opened, and a voice came out that didn’t sound like his own.

Low. Echoing. Haunted.

“You are the key,” he said.

“We cannot let them in.”

My blood turned to ice.

“What— what are you talking about? Let who in? Hey— let go!”

But he didn’t. His grip tightened until tears stung my eyes.

His voice deepened, almost layered, like someone else was speaking through him.

“You are the key. We must not let them in.”

Then he began to chant — the words tumbling out in a rhythm that made the air shiver.

“Vera luka voras dhurumai…

Vera luka dhurumai…

Vera luka… shanar dho…”

The wind rose in a sudden, unnatural surge, swirling around us, lifting my hair, stinging my eyes.

I yanked my arm again, panicking. “Stop! I don’t know what you’re saying!”

But he didn’t even hear me.

His voice grew louder, faster, the chant spilling out like a warning or a prophecy or a curse — I couldn’t tell. The trees bent toward us, the night air flickered with a strange vibration, and somewhere beneath it all, something inside me stirred.

A pressure.

A warmth.

A humming sensation in my bones like something ancient was waking up.

I didn’t want this.

I didn’t understand this.

I wasn’t supposed to be any kind of “key.”

“Let go!” I begged, voice breaking.

The wind howled.

The ground trembled.

The chant rose to a frantic crescendo —

“Vera luka voras dhurumai!”

Then—

A warm hand wrapped around my waist and yanked me back.

The world snapped into clarity.

The wind died instantly.

The chanting stopped.

I crashed into someone’s chest — warm, steady, grounding — and my breath trembled as I looked up.

Damon.

His eyes — those glowing impossible eyes — met mine, and the fear inside me dissolved like sugar in water.

He didn’t say anything.

He didn’t need to.

His expression said it for him:

You’re safe now.

He stepped in front of me, using his body as a shield without hesitation, and shoved the Bennett twin back with one hand.

The boy flew — actually flew — hitting the ground several feet away, dirt and leaves scattering around him.

He blinked rapidly, suddenly aware, like he’d just been ripped out of a nightmare. His chest rose and fell in shaky breaths, confusion spilling over his face.

“What— what happened?” he choked out, scrambling backward. “Where am I? Why am I—” He looked down at himself, horrified. “Why am I not wearing pants?!”

I clutched my wrist — throbbing and red — still trying to steady my breathing.

He looked at me, panic flashing in those now-very-awake eyes. “Did I— did I hurt you? I didn’t mean— I don’t remember—”

Damon raised an eyebrow, folding his arms in that trademark Damon way — smug, suspicious, slightly amused.

“Well, well,” he drawled, accent thickening. “Bennett witches. Always a delight. Always naked. Always chanting something they shouldn’t.”

The boy swallowed hard, fear twisting his features. “Please — I swear I didn’t mean to— I don’t even know what I was doing—”

Damon stepped closer, tilting his head, assessing him like a puzzle he already knew the answer to.

“You kids really need bedtime routines,” he said, tone casual but edged with warning. “Sleepwalking across town in your underwear to harass humans? Bit dramatic, even for witches.”

I shot Damon a look. “Not helping.”

He shrugged.

The Bennett twin pushed himself up, still shaking. “Something… pulled me. I don’t know what it was. I couldn’t stop myself.”

He looked at me — really looked — and his expression softened into fear.

“For what it’s worth,” he whispered, voice small, “I’m sorry.”

Damon’s eyes flicked to me for a split second, checking if I was buying it.

I wasn’t sure what I believed.

But one thing was certain:

Whatever controlled him…

Whatever made him find me…

Whatever made him say I was the key…

It wasn’t done.