There are moments that defy logic—moments that shatter the fabric of everything a person believes. Hope had fought monsters. She'd cast ancient spells, faced curses, and even danced with death itself. But nothing—nothing—prepared her for what she just saw.
London had died. She felt it. Saw it.
And now…
He sat in the middle of the glowing embers, completely unharmed. Well—almost.
"Oh my Moon—London, you're naked!" Raphael blurted, immediately turning away and tossing his jacket at him. "Put that on, you blazing idiot."
London blinked down at himself. "Okay… um. I have questions. Starting with: what the hell just happened?"
Hope's voice wavered. "You died, London. I—"
He looked up at her, his expression softer than usual, almost broken. "Did I… hurt you?"
"You saved me," she whispered. Then she was on her knees beside him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. "You idiot. You could've—" She broke off with a shaky breath. "I thought I lost you."
"You and me both," Raphael muttered, still facing away. "Next time, wear fireproof underwear, man."
London coughed a dry laugh. "I don't even know what that was. I just… I got in the way. And then I burned."
Hope pulled back slightly, searching his eyes. "It wasn't just fire. You… you resurrected. Like something reborn."
He hesitated. "I've felt weird for weeks. But I thought it was just nerves. Or being the only guy with zero powers." He looked around at the charred ritual room. "Guess the joke's on me."
Raphael finally turned around, his tone surprisingly serious. "That's not witchfire. That's something else. Something ancient. You died, London. And came back like a freaking phoenix."
"But I'm not a phoenix," London said, frowning. "Am I?"
Hope shook her head slowly. "No. You're something new. Something we don't understand yet."
The room trembled slightly, a low rumble beneath the stone. The runes on the floor—faint as they were—flickered again.
"We need to get out of here," Raphael said. "This place isn't stable anymore."
London stood, wobbling slightly but managing to stay upright with Hope's help. He wrapped the jacket tighter around himself, cheeks still pink with embarrassment.
"Let's go home," he muttered.
Hope smiled faintly. "To Blackmoor."
---
Elsewhere in Blackmoor Academy...
Celeste stood alone in the oldest library wing, flipping through a book on interdimensional seals. She wasn't supposed to be here, not without Jessa. But she couldn't shake the feeling that the answers were just beyond her reach.
"You're wasting your time with them."
The voice was low. Masculine. Familiar and wrong all at once.
Celeste turned slowly. "Who's there?"
From the shadows stepped a boy. A senior. She recognized him from the advanced enchantment class. Quiet. Too quiet. His name was Julian—or at least that's what he called himself.
"Richard is gone," Julian said casually, brushing dust off an old tome. "You think the school's safe? That your sister's friends will protect you?"
Celeste stepped back. "You're not here to help, are you?"
"I'm here to offer truth. Power. Purpose." His eyes gleamed unnaturally. "You don't belong with them, Celeste. You know it. They treat you like the tagalong. A shadow. But with me... you could be more."
Her throat tightened. "Why me?"
"Because I see you," Julian whispered. "I see what you're capable of. You're not just a pretty face with a talent for glamours. You could change everything."
He stepped closer. "Come with me. Leave the games behind. You won't regret it."
Celeste hesitated. Her mind screamed to run—but her heart fluttered in uncertainty.
---
Back in the upper tower…
Stephen kicked open the door to Richard's office. "Back from the vampire graveyard of awkward tunnels! Guess who lived? All of us!"
Daemon followed behind with a roll of his eyes. "Lower your voice."
Jessa looked up from the desk where she was rifling through Richard's old journals. "Any luck?"
Hope stepped in, helping London inside. He looked exhausted but alive.
Stephen's eyes widened. "Wait—wait—wait. Is he naked again?"
"Not again—still," Raphael said, tossing him a towel. "Spare us the jokes, please."
"Sorry, couldn't help it," Stephen grinned. "Nice to see you alive, bro. You burst into flames, yeah? Must be a Monday."
Daemon's eyes narrowed at London. "We need to figure out what you are. Fast."
Jessa nodded. "And we found something. Richard was researching something called The Hollowing. It's tied to the school's original founders. And something buried beneath the western cliffs."
"Great," Hope muttered. "So he disappears, London resurrects, and now we have a mystery named like a gothic horror novel."
Stephen threw an arm around Raphael's shoulders. "On the bright side, we didn't die. And I think the werewolf finally impressed the girl."
Raphael shrugged him off. "Don't jinx it."
Stephen wiggled his eyebrows. "You blushed. Adorable."
Hope smiled faintly, catching London's hand. "We'll find Richard. And figure all of this out."
Celeste entered quietly behind them, eyes unreadable.
No one noticed the way her hands trembled.
Or the shadow lurking behind her eyes.