Chapter 26 The Forbidden Wing
Amanda waited until Silas's footsteps faded down the corridor before moving.
Her legs ached from crouching in the alcove, but she didn't care. The moment he disappeared into the forbidden wing, every instinct in her screamed to follow.
She hesitated only once. Her hand hovering near her heart. Derek's voice echoed in her mind.
You're creating problems that don't exist.
But this wasn't imagined. She'd seen the key. Heard the lock. Silas wasn't supposed to be here. No one was.
Taking a steadying breath, Amanda stepped out of the shadows.
The east wing felt colder than the rest of the estate. The air was thick with dust and something older. Something that hummed beneath her skin. The scent of old stone and decay filled her nose. The torches along the walls were dead, leaving only the silver light of the moon bleeding through narrow windows.
Every step she took echoed softly. She kept close to the wall. Her pulse hammered in her throat.
The corridor stretched endlessly, lined with closed doors. Their wood warped and splintered with age. But as she moved deeper, she noticed the difference.
Most doors were coated in dust thick enough to write through. But one, the last door at the end of the hall, was clean. Recently touched. The air there smelled faintly of iron and burnt herbs.
Her stomach knotted.
That was where Silas had gone.
Amanda reached the door and pressed her ear against it. Nothing. No movement. No voices.
She waited a long moment before turning the handle. It creaked softly, but she slipped inside.
The sight stole her breath.
The room was alive with darkness.
Every surface, floor, walls, even the ceiling, was marked with strange runes drawn in ash and blood. Thick candles burned low. Their flames flickered green instead of gold. The center of the floor held a ritual circle etched deep into the stone, still damp with something dark and metallic. A faint hum pulsed in the air, like the echo of a heartbeat.
Amanda's pulse raced as she stepped closer. On a nearby table lay open books. Ancient tomes bound in cracked leather, filled with sketches of wolves, sigils, and binding symbols. She didn't understand every word, but she recognized the language. Cursecraft.
Her gaze caught on something small resting beside the books. A vial. Inside, crimson liquid glimmered under the candlelight. Blood.
Her hand trembled as she picked it up. A faint scent of pine and smoke clung to the glass.
Derek.
There were more vials. Five, maybe six. And a bundle of black threads tied together. She leaned closer. Not threads. Strands of hair. Silver tipped. His hair.
Her stomach churned. "Oh, Goddess..." she whispered. Her voice barely more than breath.
The evidence was undeniable. Whoever had cursed Derek, whoever had bound his wolf, had done it from here. And Silas had access.
Amanda's hands shook as she pulled out her phone. She had to document this before it disappeared. Before Silas found out she'd seen.
She took pictures quickly. Of the circle, the vials, the books. The phone's light flickered across the pages, illuminating one phrase that made her freeze.
The bond of trust shall cloak the chain.
Her breath caught. It was all connected. The prophecy. The curse. Silas.
A soft creak shattered the silence.
Amanda's heart stopped.
Footsteps echoed from the hallway. Slow, deliberate, coming closer.
She scrambled behind a tall cabinet draped in torn cloth, holding her breath. The door opened with a groan. The scent of burnt sage filled the air.
Silas stepped inside.
Amanda could see him through a crack between the boards. His expression was calm, almost lazy, but his eyes gleamed with something darker beneath the surface. He held his phone to his ear.
"Yes," he said quietly, pacing the room. "The girl's getting too close."
Amanda's stomach twisted.
"Yes, I know the plan. But she's smarter than I expected. If she breaks the binding completely..." He paused, listening. His next words dropped like ice into Amanda's veins.
"No, I'll handle it. She won't live to finish the job."
Her pulse roared in her ears.
She pressed a hand over her mouth, forcing herself not to make a sound.
Silas walked past the table, brushing his fingers lightly over the vials. "Everything's under control. Derek trusts me. That's all that matters. Once she's gone, we'll proceed as planned."
He laughed softly. Cold. Confident. Then he ended the call.
Amanda's nails dug into her palm to keep from gasping.
He'd been here all along. The curse, the whispers, the betrayal. Silas was behind it. Derek's oldest friend. The man he defended.
He won't believe me, she thought bitterly. Not without proof.
She looked at her phone, clutched tight in her hand. She had that proof now. She just had to get out.
Silas turned toward the door. Amanda waited, heart pounding, until he stepped outside. His footsteps faded down the hall.
She counted to ten. Then twenty.
When she was sure he was gone, she slipped out from behind the cabinet and headed for the exit.
The corridor stretched before her like a tunnel. Each step felt too loud, too slow. Her palms were slick with sweat. She was halfway down the hall when she felt it.
A ripple. A sudden shift in the air.
Her body froze.
A faint red glow flared beneath her feet.
"No," she breathed. "No, no, no."
A sigil carved into the floor blazed to life, burning through the dust. The magic screamed through her veins, crackling with energy.
Then came the sound. A shrill, piercing alarm that echoed through the entire east wing.
Amanda bolted.
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she sprinted down the hall. Behind her, the alarm wailed like a living thing, shaking the walls. Lights flickered to life, one after another. Footsteps pounded in the distance.
Then a shout.
"Who's there?!" Silas's voice.
She didn't look back.
Her lungs burned. The corridors twisted and blurred around her. She reached the main passage and nearly slipped on the polished floor. Somewhere behind her, Silas cursed and the slam of a door told her he was chasing her now.
Amanda gritted her teeth, forcing her legs to move faster. Don't stop. Don't let him catch you.
She turned a corner. Her shoulder hit the wall hard enough to make her gasp. Ahead, faint light spilled from the grand staircase. Safety. Or close enough.
Then his voice again, closer this time. "Amanda!"
Her breath caught. She didn't answer. Didn't slow down.
"Amanda, stop!" His footsteps thundered after her. "You shouldn't be here!"
Her body screamed with exhaustion, but she pushed harder. One wrong move and he'd see what she'd seen. One wrong move and she'd never make it out.
She darted down another hall, desperate to lose him. The air was thick with the scent of old dust and magic. The alarm still howled, echoing through the estate like a beast's cry.
A door loomed ahead. A narrow service passage she remembered from her first weeks in the manor. She threw it open, slipped inside, and pressed herself against the wall, forcing her breathing to quiet.
Silas's footsteps stormed past moments later. Then, silence.
Amanda stayed still. Every muscle trembling. The alarm had finally gone quiet, leaving only the faint hum of magic fading in the distance.
Slowly, she pulled out her phone. The pictures glowed on the screen. Runes, blood, hair, Silas's ritual. Proof.
Her throat tightened with a mix of fear and relief.
Derek would have to believe her now. He had to.