Chapter 289
Chapter 289
Lira's POV
The air suddenly froze. Dad's expression turned to stone—first shock, his mouth slightly open, then confusion, brows furrowed, finally transforming into a strange struggle, as if he was fighting against some invisible force. He stepped back, hand against his forehead.
"You're... pregnant?" his voice became unsteady, like something was caught in his throat.
I nodded, wiping away tears. "Yes. Nathan and I are getting married."
Dad slowly sank back into his chair. When he looked up again, I caught a momentary golden flash in his eyes, like reflected sunlight.
"A child..." he whispered, his voice softening—the voice of the father I knew. But just as quickly, his expression hardened again. "I'm happy for you, Lira. But this doesn't change anything about Linda. She's a good person."
"Dad, your eyes..." I stepped forward, pointing at his face, "they just changed color."
He blinked, looking confused, his hand instinctively touching his eyes. "What? What are you talking about?"
"Gold," I insisted, my heart racing, "your eyes flashed gold. Like... like a werewolf's, but not exactly the same."
Nathan took a step forward. "I saw it too. Mr. Anderson, that's not normal. It could mean—"
"ENOUGH!" Dad stood up again, growling, "I don't want to hear this! You should leave now."
"Dad, please..."
"No, Lira." He shook his head, his gaze shifting, "I love Linda. We're fine. If you can't accept that, don't come around anymore."
---
"Something's definitely wrong with him," Nathan said as we drove away, gripping the steering wheel tightly, his brow furrowed. "That eye color change isn't natural."
"Exactly!" I stared at the trees rushing past the window, my stomach churning, "But he's never reacted like this before. What has Linda done to him? He snapped at me like... like he was being controlled."
"The golden flash in your father's eyes," Nathan frowned, his voice low, "that's not a werewolf trait. Werewolf eyes turn amber or gold, but the entire eye changes, not just a flash."
"And the way it flashed was unnatural," I added, recalling the moment, "like some kind of... magical effect."
Nathan's expression grew grave. "We need to talk to Stella. If this is some kind of spell, she'll know."
---
That evening in our living room, the firelight cast a warm glow on Stella's face, creating a stark contrast with the dark topics we were discussing.
"You look troubled," Stella said, looking directly at me, her fingers tapping lightly on the armrest.
"I saw my dad today," I replied, nervously fidgeting with the edge of my sweater. "Something strange happened."
I explained in detail about Sophie's vision—how Linda would kill my father—and described Dad's unusual behavior and the change in his eyes.
"She killed him? In the vision?" Stella's voice sharpened as she leaned forward.
Nathan nodded, his expression serious. "We think Linda is Alexander's daughter. She wants to continue her father's work—she wants Lira's power."
"That would require a powerful spell," Stella frowned thoughtfully, fingers tapping her knee, eyes narrowing, "Bruce is dead, she couldn't do it herself... unless she had help from another witch."
"The vision didn't mention any other witch," I said, remembering Sophie's terrified expression, "but Linda ran out of some kind of drug. We think Bruce was supplying it."
"Makes sense. When is this vision supposed to happen?"
"Next Monday," we answered simultaneously.
"Your father didn't believe your warning?"
"He not only didn't believe us, he threw us out," I said in frustration. "He wouldn't even consider the possibility that Linda might be dangerous."
"The strangest thing," I continued, leaning forward, "was how he answered questions about Linda like he was reciting lines. Then his eyes flashed gold."
Stella grew unusually quiet, her expression serious, shoulders tense. "I believe you. If that's the case, it can only mean one thing... we're in serious trouble."
"What is it?" My heart raced, palms sweating.
"Your father is under a spell," Stella explained gravely, lowering her voice, "a powerful one. And the kind that doesn't disappear when the caster dies."
"What kind of spell?" My hands started trembling as I pictured my father's vacant stare.
"A mind control spell," Stella explained, her fingers drawing a complex pattern in the air, "usually anchored to an object. Whoever possesses that object can control the mind of the person under the spell." She narrowed her eyes, "I suspect Bruce cast the spell, and now Linda has the object."
"Oh my God!" I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand, "So she's controlling my dad through that object? That's why he defends her and refuses to listen to us?"
"Exactly." Stella nodded, her gaze determined. "That golden flash is a sign of the spell at work, especially when he tries to resist it."
"Linda hasn't returned yet," I said, my thoughts racing, "we absolutely need to find and destroy that object before she comes back to kill him."
Nathan squeezed my hand. "We'll find it."
---
The next day at work, autumn sunlight streamed through the rehearsal room's windows onto my violin. I had just completed a particularly difficult exercise, sweat sliding down my forehead, my arms slightly sore.
"Excellent, Lira!" the conductor praised. "You're in great form today."
If he knew what was going through my mind, he wouldn't say that. All I can think about is Linda and that damned spell.
After rehearsal, Dean invited me and several colleagues to lunch. Walking toward the elevator, I spotted Nana and Abby in the lobby and inwardly groaned. Nana was leaning elegantly against the wall while Abby touched up her makeup in a mirror.
Just my luck today.
I wanted to decline, but seeing the expectant looks on my colleagues' faces, I reluctantly agreed.
At the restaurant, I sat by the window, sunlight warming my face through the glass, but unable to dispel the chill in my heart.
"So," Nana began the moment we sat down, her eyes sparkling with gossip as she leaned forward, "how exactly did you meet Nathan Hayes? He's famous for being a loner."