Chapter 74
Elizabeth
The fog curls around us like living smoke, thick and cold against my skin.
The woman stands before us—tall, still, terrifyingly calm. Her dark robes sway gently in the wind, and her eyes glow faintly in the dim light filtering through the trees. There’s something ancient about her, something that makes every instinct in my body scream to be careful.
To respect her.
To tell the truth.
Vanessa steps forward first.
Always brave.
Always steady.
“We were led to you,” she says, voice clear despite the tension in the air. “By my grandmother.”
The witch’s gaze shifts slowly to Vanessa.
Sharp.
Studying.
A long silence stretches between them, heavy enough to make my chest tighten.
Then the woman tilts her head slightly.
Recognition flickers across her face.
“Well,” she murmurs softly. “That explains the power.”
Vanessa blinks.
“What do you mean?”
The witch takes a single step closer, her eyes narrowing as she examines Vanessa more carefully.
“You carry the blood of the Bennet witches,” she says.
The words land like thunder.
A chill slides down my spine.
Because in the supernatural world, names matter.
Powerful names matter even more.
The witch’s gaze lingers on Vanessa for another long moment before she finally turns away.
“Follow me,” she says.
No hesitation.
No explanation.
Just command.
She pivots and begins walking into the fog, disappearing between the trees as if she knows we have no choice but to obey.
Vanessa looks at me.
I look at Chloe.
Chloe raises her eyebrows slightly.
“Well,” she whispers, “this feels like the part in the movie where people make terrible decisions.”
Despite everything, a nervous laugh escapes me.
“Yeah,” I murmur. “Definitely.”
Vanessa straightens her shoulders.
“We’re going,” she says firmly.
And just like that, we follow.
⸻
The path through the forest is narrow and uneven, twisting between tall trees whose branches stretch overhead like skeletal arms. The fog thickens the deeper we go, swallowing the world behind us until it feels like there’s no turning back.
Only forward.
The witch moves silently ahead, her footsteps barely making a sound against the damp earth.
After a few minutes, a structure begins to take shape in the distance.
A small house.
Old.
Weathered.
Strange.
It looks like it grew straight out of the forest itself—dark wood walls covered in creeping vines, windows glowing faintly with warm golden light.
Magic hums in the air around it.
Strong.
Ancient.
Dangerous.
The witch stops at the front door and turns to face us.
Her eyes settle on me again.
Heavy.
Knowing.
“What do you want?” she asks.
The question feels bigger this time.
More serious.
Like the answer will change everything.
My throat feels dry, but I step forward anyway.
Because this is my responsibility.
“My name is Elizabeth,” I say carefully. “And something is trying to open a door between worlds.”
The witch’s expression doesn’t change.
But her eyes sharpen.
I continue.
“I saw it in a vision. A red door surrounded by flowers. It was bleeding. Something was behind it.” My voice trembles slightly. “Something bad.”
Silence falls.
The wind rustles softly through the trees.
The witch watches me closely, studying every word, every breath.
Then she nods once.
“I see.”
Vanessa steps beside me.
“We tried a sealing spell,” she adds. “It failed.”
The witch’s gaze flickers to her.
“Of course it did.”
Blunt.
Matter-of-fact.
Chloe crosses her arms slightly.
“Okay, that was a little harsh.”
The witch ignores her completely.
Instead, she steps aside and gestures toward the door.
“Come.”
We exchange quick glances.
Then follow her inside.
⸻
The interior of the house is warm and dim, lit by dozens of candles placed along shelves and tables. Strange symbols cover the walls, drawn in dark ink. Bundles of dried herbs hang from the ceiling, filling the air with a sharp, earthy scent.
The place feels sacred.
Protected.
Powerful.
The witch walks deeper into the house and stops in front of a wooden doorway carved with intricate markings.
She turns slowly.
And her gaze lands on Chloe.
Her expression hardens instantly.
“You,” she says.
Chloe stiffens.
“What about me?”
The witch’s eyes narrow.
“You are a vampire.”
The word lands like a slap.
Silence fills the room.
Chloe’s jaw tightens slightly.
“I prefer the term ‘evolved,’” she mutters under her breath.
The witch does not smile.
“This space is sacred,” she says firmly. “The ritual we are about to perform requires purity of energy.”
Chloe’s shoulders tense.
“So… what are you saying?”
The witch gestures toward a nearby room.
“You will wait there.”
Offense flashes across Chloe’s face immediately.
“Oh, come on,” she says. “I came all this way, nearly got eaten by forest monsters, and now I’m being benched?”
Vanessa steps closer to her gently.
“Chloe,” she says softly. “It’s okay.”
Chloe exhales sharply, clearly annoyed—but she nods.
“Fine,” she mutters. “I’ll sit in the corner and be excluded.”
She walks toward the other room dramatically, muttering under her breath.
“I save lives, and this is the thanks I get…”
Despite the tension, I almost smile.
That’s Chloe.
Always dramatic.
Always loyal.
The witch watches her leave, then turns back to us.
“Now,” she says. “We begin.”
⸻
The ritual room is unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
The floor is covered in ancient symbols carved directly into the wood. Candles line the walls in perfect circles, their flames flickering steadily despite the lack of wind.
At the center of the room sits a large stone basin.
Cold.
Heavy.
Important.
The witch steps inside the circle and gestures for Vanessa to join her.
Vanessa hesitates briefly.
Then steps forward.
Her breathing quickens slightly.
Nervous.
Excited.
Determined.
“You will assist me,” the witch says.
Vanessa nods.
“Yes.”
The witch begins preparing the ritual—placing herbs into the basin, lighting additional candles, drawing fresh symbols along the floor.
Her movements are precise.
Graceful.
Powerful.
Magic begins to gather in the room, thickening the air until it feels almost electric.
She turns to Vanessa.
“Listen carefully,” she says. “You carry great power, child. But power without discipline is chaos.”
Vanessa nods seriously.
“I understand.”
The witch raises her hands.
“Repeat after me.”
Her voice becomes deep and rhythmic as she begins chanting in an ancient language. Vanessa follows, her voice trembling at first—but growing stronger with each word.
The candles flare brighter.
The symbols on the floor begin to glow faintly.
Energy builds.
Slow.
Steady.
Intense.
My heart pounds as I watch.
Because this feels different from the failed spell.
Stronger.
Older.
More dangerous.
The witch places her hand over the basin.
Vanessa mirrors the movement.
“Focus,” the witch commands.
The room vibrates with power.
Wind rises from nowhere, swirling around us.
The flames stretch tall.
The air hums loudly.
Then—
A sudden wave of energy bursts outward.
Bright.
Blinding.
Overwhelming.
I gasp as the force ripples through my body like electricity.
The candles flicker violently.
The symbols flash once.
Twice.
Then—
Silence.
Everything stops.
The room goes still.
Vanessa staggers slightly, grabbing the edge of the basin to steady herself.
Her breathing is heavy.
Uneven.
She looks pale.
“What… what was that?” she whispers.
The witch watches her carefully.
Then smiles.
A slow, satisfied smile.
“That,” she says calmly, “means it worked.”
Relief crashes into my chest so hard my knees feel weak.
It worked.
The door is sealed.
For now.
Vanessa exhales shakily.
“I feel… strange.”
The witch nods knowingly.
“An off feeling is normal,” she explains. “It is the mark of power being used correctly.”
Vanessa swallows.
Then nods slowly.
“Okay.”
Hope begins to bloom inside me.
Maybe we did it.
Maybe we stopped whatever was trying to come through that door.
I step forward quickly.
“Thank you,” I say sincerely. “You saved us.”
Vanessa nods.
“We owe you.”
The witch’s expression softens slightly.
“One day,” she says quietly, “you will return the favor.”
The words settle into the room like prophecy.
Not a request.
A promise.
We exchange grateful looks.
Then begin gathering our things, preparing to leave.
For the first time in days, relief fills my chest.
We did it.
We survived.
Everything might finally be okay.
That’s when Chloe walks into the room.
And the relief shatters instantly.
Her face is pale.
Her eyes wide.
Her body tense.
Something is wrong.
Very wrong.
Before any of us can speak—
I see it.
Two figures standing in the doorway behind her.
Tall.
Still.
Familiar.
Damon.
And Adam.
Their expressions are dark.
Unreadable.
Dangerous.
My heart stops.
Cold fear floods my veins.
Because there is only one reason they would be here.
They found me.
And judging by the look in Damon’s eyes—
I am in serious trouble.