Chapter 83
Elizabeth
“You’re right.”
If someone had told me a month ago that the most shocking thing I’d ever hear would be Damon Elvadores admitting I was right, I would’ve laughed in their face.
Yet here we are.
The entire foyer goes silent.
Even Chloe looks stunned.
Lucien actually lets out a low whistle.
“Mark the calendar,” he mutters. “The apocalypse truly is upon us.”
Damon shoots him a look.
Lucien immediately raises both hands.
“I’m quiet.”
He is not quiet.
Not even a little.
But for once, Damon doesn’t argue.
His attention remains entirely on me.
And suddenly the room feels much smaller.
Much warmer.
Dangerous.
My pulse betrays me immediately.
I hate that.
I really do.
Damon looks toward his brothers.
“Library.”
The single word sounds like an order.
Apparently everyone understands because they immediately start moving.
Even Chloe.
Though not without muttering:
“If this turns out to be another cryptic speech, I’m biting someone.”
⸻
Twenty minutes later, everyone is gathered in the library.
Rain taps softly against the windows.
A fire crackles in the massive stone fireplace.
For the first time since I arrived at the mansion, it almost feels like a family meeting.
A deeply dysfunctional, immortal family meeting.
But still.
Everyone takes a seat except Damon.
Of course.
Damon prefers looming.
He stands beside the fireplace, one arm resting against the mantle while silver eyes scan the room.
I sit across from him.
Vanessa beside me.
Chloe sprawled dramatically across an armchair.
Adam leaning against the wall.
Lucien somehow upside down in another chair.
Tristan sitting normally like the only sane person present.
Finally Damon speaks.
“The creature that crossed into this realm was not supposed to exist.”
Well.
We’re starting strong.
I nod slowly.
“Because it was trapped behind the door.”
“Yes.”
His expression hardens slightly.
“But the door isn’t simply a door.”
I knew it.
Every instinct I’ve had since this started tells me there’s more.
Much more.
“It is a lock.”
The room falls silent.
Damon continues.
“A prison lock.”
A chill slides down my spine.
“The realms weren’t separated solely because humans and supernatural creatures couldn’t coexist.”
I glance at Chloe.
She mouths I knew it.
Honestly?
Same.
“There was another reason,” Damon says.
“A war?”
Adam speaks this time.
“A catastrophe.”
That sounds worse.
Much worse.
Lucien suddenly sits upright.
For the first time all day, the humor disappears from his face.
“It nearly destroyed both realms.”
The seriousness in his voice makes my stomach tighten.
Nobody jokes about this.
Nobody.
Damon’s silver eyes meet mine.
“There were ancient beings.”
Oh no.
Ancient beings are never good news.
Ever.
“They fed on magic itself.”
The room feels colder somehow.
“Entire cities disappeared,” Tristan says quietly.
“Witch covens. Packs. Vampire bloodlines.”
I stare at him.
“You’re serious.”
“Unfortunately.”
Vanessa shifts uneasily beside me.
“Like… monsters?”
Adam laughs once.
Darkly.
“No.”
That answer somehow scares me more.
Damon’s gaze remains fixed on me.
“They weren’t monsters.”
A pause.
“They were rulers.”
My stomach drops.
The fire crackles loudly behind him.
The silence stretches.
Then Chloe says what we’re all thinking.
“That’s terrible.”
“Yes,” Damon replies.
“Very.”
I swallow hard.
“And the door keeps them trapped.”
Damon nods once.
“The key keeps it sealed.”
There it is again.
The key.
Me.
Every conversation eventually circles back to me and I hate it.
I look down at my hand.
At the faded symbol.
At the mark that has completely ruined my life.
“Why me?”
The question escapes before I can stop it.
The room quiets.
Because that’s the real question, isn’t it?
Not what I am.
Not what the door is.
Why me?
Damon’s expression changes slightly.
Softening.
Just a little.
“The answer to that question was lost centuries ago.”
My heart sinks.
Of course it was.
“But,” Tristan adds carefully, “there are theories.”
Great.
I love theories.
Theories are never terrifying.
“What theories?”
Nobody answers immediately.
That’s never a good sign.
Finally Lucien sighs dramatically.
“Fine. I’ll say it.”
Damon immediately looks annoyed.
“That alone is concerning.”
Lucien ignores him.
“The theory is that the key isn’t random.”
My pulse quickens.
“What does that mean?”
His green eyes meet mine.
“It means somebody was chosen.”
The room stills.
“No.”
The word leaves my mouth instantly.
“No.”
I don’t know why I reject it so fast.
I just do.
Because being chosen sounds too intentional.
Too planned.
Too much.
Vanessa reaches over and squeezes my hand gently.
A silent reminder that I’m not alone.
I cling to it.
“Chosen by who?” Chloe asks quietly.
Lucien shrugs.
“Nobody knows.”
Wonderful.
Absolutely wonderful.
Ancient mysteries.
My favorite.
A loud crash suddenly echoes from somewhere upstairs.
Everyone freezes.
The sound isn’t huge.
Just…
Unexpected.
Adam straightens immediately.
“What was that?”
Nobody answers.
Because nobody knows.
Another sound follows.
A thud.
Like something falling.
Then silence.
The atmosphere changes instantly.
Every vampire in the room goes still.
Listening.
Even Chloe notices.
“That’s not normal vampire hearing behavior.”
“No,” Tristan says quietly.
“It isn’t.”
Damon’s expression hardens.
Then—
A scream tears through the mansion.
Female.
Terrified.
One of the servants.
Everybody moves at once.
The vampires are gone before I even fully register what happened.
One second they’re here.
The next—
Nothing.
Just empty chairs.
I jump to my feet.
“What happened?”
Vanessa rises too.
Chloe already looks panicked.
And then another scream echoes from upstairs.
Closer this time.
Followed by shouting.
My heart immediately starts racing.
“Elizabeth,” Adam’s voice suddenly calls from somewhere above.
Sharp.
Urgent.
Not normal.
“Stay downstairs.”
Absolutely not.
Because if I’ve learned anything lately, it’s that staying downstairs usually means everybody hides information again.
I exchange a look with Chloe.
Then Vanessa.
The answer is immediate.
We’re going.
Together.
The three of us rush toward the staircase.
Ignoring every ounce of good judgment we possess.
Which admittedly isn’t much.
The mansion feels different now.
Wrong.
The lights flicker slightly as we climb the stairs.
The air grows colder.
Every step increases the feeling crawling up my spine.
Something’s here.
Something shouldn’t be.
We reach the second floor corridor.
And stop dead.
Because halfway down the hallway stands a servant.
One of the younger women who works at the mansion.
Except—
She’s staring directly at us.
Completely motionless.
Eyes wide.
Unblinking.
Her mouth slowly opens.
And a voice emerges.
Not hers.
Layered.
Ancient.
Wrong.
The exact same voice from the creature at the gates.
My blood runs cold.
The woman smiles.
Then says:
“The prison is opening.”