*******Harper
The air in the witches' realm was heavier than anywhere I had ever stepped before. The ground was wet with dew that refused to dry, and a mist clung stubbornly to the trees like it had no intention of leaving. Each step I took felt like trespassing into a graveyard where the dead whispered warnings in my ears.
Luna walked beside me, her usual calm expression hardened into steel. Even Chris's voice in my head was quieter than normal, as if the AI itself understood that this was no place for noise.
And then—I saw them.
At the base of a twisted black tree, three figures were bound with ropes enchanted in a dim purple glow. My heart stopped, then lurched forward.
"Mom!" I screamed, stumbling toward them.
Her head lifted weakly. Blood traced down the side of her temple, her skin pale, her breath shallow. Beside her, Elias struggled against the restraints, fury burning in his eyes despite his exhaustion. Elora sat slumped, barely conscious, her lips moving in what looked like a prayer.
Before I could reach them, a shadow slid from between the trees.
The masked lady.
Her steps were unhurried, deliberate, like she knew the entire world belonged to her. The silver mask she wore reflected the weak light filtering through the branches, but her lips curved into a smirk that sent a chill down my spine.
"Well," she said, voice as smooth as silk laced with poison. "The little heroine finally came."
I forced my voice steady. "Let them go."
She laughed, a sound sharp enough to slice through the fog. "Let them go? You think you're in a position to bargain?"
Her gaze drifted to my mother, then to Elias, then finally to Elora. The smirk deepened.
"Do you want to know something, Harper? A secret you've been chasing but were too afraid to find?"
I didn't answer, but my fists clenched.
She leaned forward, her voice lowering to a whisper that somehow still carried through the mist. "I killed your father."
The world stopped. My knees nearly buckled under the weight of her words.
"What…?"
She chuckled at my reaction. "Oh, the look on your face is delicious. You thought the mayor did it, didn't you? That pathetic man was convenient. I told him to take the blame for me, and he obeyed like a loyal dog."
My vision blurred with tears. My chest tightened until I couldn't breathe.
"You're lying," I choked out.
"Am I?" she tilted her head, mockery dripping from every syllable. "Your father was nosy. He poked into places that weren't his. I ended him. And the mayor? He was weak. He deserved death just as much. So I claimed him too."
Elora's head lifted then, her eyes burning despite the weakness in her body. "You monster…" she spat, voice hoarse.
The masked lady turned her attention to her, lips curling in cruel delight. "Ah, Elora. You're the one I want."
She stepped closer, crouching down so her masked face was level with Elora's. "You have something of mine. Evidence. A little collection of truths that could ruin everything if exposed. Tell me where it is, and I'll let you live. I might even be merciful to the others."
Elora's eyes blazed, and for the first time, I saw pure defiance written across her face. "I'd rather die than give you anything."
The masked lady's smile faltered, replaced with a dangerous flicker of rage. "Careful, girl. I can make your death slow."
"Do it," Elora hissed. "At least then I'll know you're afraid of the truth."
The masked lady's hand twitched, fingers curling like claws. The air around her vibrated with dark energy, and for a terrifying second, I thought she might tear Elora apart right there.
I rushed forward, my voice breaking. "Don't! Don't do anything stupid!"
She turned sharply toward me, her mask glinting with reflected moonlight. "Stupid?" she repeated, her tone mocking. "No, Harper. Stupid is standing in front of me thinking you can change anything. Stupid is believing family is strength when it's only weakness. Watch carefully, little heroine. I'll show you what true power looks like."
********
The candlelight in Natalie's study flickered against the crimson drapes, throwing tall shadows across the room. She sat with her legs crossed, a glass of deep red wine balanced between her fingers, the taste more bitter than sweet. The storm outside had not eased since the sudden rupture in the sky, and thunder rolled like an omen no one could ignore.
Across from her, Vaelthor leaned lazily against the marble mantelpiece. His eyes gleamed faintly, a predator's glow in the dimness. Natalie studied him carefully. He had not moved to join the masked lady, not even after the chaos had spread into the realms.
Her voice was sharp, probing. "Why are you still here? Shouldn't you be out there helping her? You gave her power, didn't you? You should be at her side now that she's drawing blood."
Vaelthor smirked, a soundless laugh caught in his throat. "Help her? I've already taken what I needed from her. The rest… is noise."
Natalie arched a brow, setting her glass down with a soft clink. "So you're abandoning her?"
He shifted, straightening, his presence filling the room like smoke. "Abandoning? No. She was never mine to begin with. She begged for strength, I delivered. She became my vessel, nothing more. But I am not her keeper." His tone hardened, the amusement in his smile gone. "Her obsession blinds her. She dances to her own madness now, and I won't waste myself cleaning up the pieces."
Natalie's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "So the mighty Vaelthor doesn't like losing control."
"Control?" His eyes narrowed, burning gold in the dim light. "Don't mistake my choice for weakness. She's disposable. If she burns, let her burn. I already got what I came for."
"You shouldn't have let her enter the witches realm then".
For a moment, silence ruled the room—only the rain tapping at the window and the faint rumble of thunder above. Natalie studied him, recognizing the truth in his words. Whatever bond he had with the masked lady was shattered; she was no longer his concern.
Natalie swirled the wine in her glass. "Whatever. let's watch how she ends herself."
Vaelthor's lips pulled into a thin smile. "Gladly."
The storm outside cracked with lightning, as though the sky itself bore witness to the ruin already unfolding.