Some chapters crash in like waves.
Others arrive like the tide turning.
Chapter 24 is the latter.
We've entered the eye of the storm. The house is full. Tensions simmer. And beneath the ease of shared meals and quiet banter, something sacred is shifting.
Eric and Alec's confrontation carries more than loyalty.
It echoes with grief. With betrayal. With the kind of silence that finally breaks.
In this chapter, Max begins to pull away from the pieces that once defined her.
Seth does not rise above her, but stands beside her.
Jamey reveals just a flicker of the power still buried within him.
And the world, as it always does before revelation, holds its breath.
You're not just reading a reunion.
You're witnessing a gathering before war.
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We had our answers. Now came the hard part: what to do with them.
The journey home was quiet, each of us lost in thought. As we neared the drop-off point, I turned to Alec and Samantha.
"We'll leave you here. You can make it back on your own."
Alec arched a brow. "You're not coming inside?"
"No." My tone left no room for argument. I wasn't ready to face Eric.
Home wasn't home anymore. The house I once shared with Eric had become a sanctuary for my team, for him, and for his new family. I didn't mind then, and I don't mind now. But I also had no desire to set foot inside. Not yet.
Seth didn't question me. He simply shifted us through the rift, landing us in the familiar warmth of our new home.
For a while, we did nothing but let the weight of our discoveries settle. We had unraveled secrets older than time, and yet, none of it changed the fact that we were just two people in desperate need of a break.
So, we took one.
Rest. Recovery and quality time.
The kind that required no words, no battles, just us.
Until my phone shattered the peace.
The screen flashed an unknown number. My thumb hovered over the decline button, but before I could tap it, Seth plucked the phone from my hand with the reflexes of a thief.
"Gabriel." His voice was smooth, unbothered. "What can we do for you?"
I froze mid-motion, one arm in my sleeve, eyes narrowing at Seth. "How the hell did you..."
He winked. "You hum when you're about to ignore a call. Plus, I just know."
I rolled my eyes, finishing dressing while he handled Gabriel. Whatever it was, it could wait. I had more pressing concerns, like food.
By the time Seth found me downstairs, I was halfway through a sandwich, my feet propped up on the kitchen stool. He dropped into the seat beside me, looking far too relaxed for someone who had just spoken to Heaven's watchdog.
Wordlessly, I slid him a sandwich. He took it, but before biting down, he sighed.
"Gabriel wants to meet."
I paused, mid-chew.
Seth took a bite, chewing with absolutely no urgency before adding, "As soon as possible."
I swallowed. "Because of course he does."
Seth smirked. "Look at the bright side. At least it's not a Judicar raid this time."
I groaned, thunking my head against the counter. "I hate that you have a point."
He chuckled, but there was something in his eyes, something sharp, unreadable. Gabriel's request must be about what we have discovered in the Labyrinth of Books.
I exhaled through my nose, reaching for my phone. "You can handle the Judicars, since Gabe has become your new BFF, and I'll send a message to the team and Lady Elsa for us to meet up next Wednesday," I mumbled.
I twisted my head toward him, lips pursed. "Do you think we should have it here? I don't want to be at the house. Eric's family can stay home. I don't want to be bothered with their sensitivity."
Seth's lips curled into an amused smirk as I pouted, eyes wide, pushing for sympathy. Instead of answering, he reached out and pinched my cheeks.
"For you," he said, his voice light, but his gaze warm, "I would offer up the world."
Damn him.
I smacked his hand away, trying to fight the way my lips twitched up. "I'll settle for a stress-free meeting."
"No promises."
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The house buzzed with quiet anticipation. Seth had taken care of the sleeping arrangements, prepping rooms for twelve guests while the additional flatlets further from the house could house another eight. It was more than enough, though I had a feeling we'd still end up with people crammed into corners, talking late into the night.
The first to arrive was Lady Elsa and her troop. Ever composed, ever regal, she stepped onto the porch with a nod of acknowledgment. We got them settled quickly and let them know brunch would be served soon.
Alec arrived next, popping in with the twins and Jamey, their banter loud enough to shake the walls. More greetings, more accommodations. The house was filling up fast.
I was mid-conversation with Lady Elsa on the porch when movement in the distance caught my eye.
Eric.
His team trailed behind him, their presence pulling at the edges of my mood like an unwelcome draft.
I greeted them, barely, before pivoting back to Seth. My voice was light, casual, but the words weren't a request.
"Seth, love, Eric and his guys are here. Will you have them settled in, please?"
Seth appeared at my side almost instantly, all smiles and effortless charm.
"Sure." He waved them over. "I'll take you to your rooms."
Eric hesitated, glancing at me like he wanted to say something. I made it easy for him. I turned back to my conversation, making it clear: this wasn't the time.
The last to arrive were the Keepers of the Rift and the Judicars. By then, the house felt like a small kingdom preparing for war.
The catering service announced that brunch would be served at twelve, forty minutes from now.
With time to kill, people scattered. Some wandered to the lake, others explored the miniature garden, while a few lazed by the pool, soaking in the rare moment of peace.
Seth and I stood near the porch when Jamey swaggered up, draping an arm over both of us like he owned the place.
"How..." he drawled, eyes full of mischief, "...could you afford property like this, my dear sir?"
"That's classified," he said with a grin. "And if I share it, I'll have to erase your memory. Or your existence. Whichever's quicker."
Jamey huffed, unimpressed. "Right. And the real answer?"
Seth nudged his chin toward me. "The only person on planet Earth who knows is my wife."
Jamey stiffened. Blinked. Then turned to me so fast I was worried he'd snap his own neck.
"Wife?"
Seth threw an arm around Jamey's shoulders, grinning ear to ear as he squeezed him tight.
"Soon," he promised. "And very soon."
Jamey groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Oh, great. I'm never hearing the end of this."
Seth just laughed, and for the first time that morning, I let myself relax.
For now.
The bells tolled for brunch, echoing through the estate like a call to arms. The energy shift was subtle but unmistakable. Laughter softened, conversations wound down, and people instinctively made their way toward the lounge hall.
Inside, the tables were overflowing with a spread that could satisfy every palate, from delicate fruit platters to heartier, meat-heavy dishes. The smell alone could bring a grown warrior to their knees.
As expected, the meal was lively. Conversations wove through the room, light and easy, though some carried an undercurrent of tension, like everyone was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
And, of course, Jamey had fully committed to his role as the designated clown, spinning exaggerated tales between mouthfuls of food.
"So there I was," he declared dramatically, "face to face with a literal demon, and what do I have in my hand? A spoon. A wooden spoon!"
Someone choked on their drink. Alec sighed into his palm.
I smirked. "And let me guess, you fought it off with a well-placed tap on the nose?"
Jamey waggled his eyebrows. "You mock, but you should've seen its face. Pure horror. The wooden spoon is a sacred weapon in the right hands."
Laughter rippled across the room.
But an hour later, Seth rose from his seat, his easy demeanor shifting into something more focused.
"Alright," he announced, rolling his shoulders. "We'll move to the conference room for the main discussion in about fifteen minutes. Stretch your legs, find a bathroom, breathe if you need to."
People rose from their seats in twos and threes. Some wandered outside, others hovered near the dessert trays. I lingered on the patio, finally alone for a breath. The breeze kissed my face, soft and salted from the lake beyond. My eyes tracked the rippling water, trying to quiet the static humming beneath my skin.
And then it started.
Not the meeting. The fight.
It began with a tone, just one, but it cracked through the air like a blade through glass. I turned, instincts sharp, and caught the flash of lightning curling around Alec's fingers.
Across from him stood Eric.
Naturally.
"You're not doing this here," Alec said, voice low and barely restrained.
"I'm not doing anything," Eric answered. "I asked a question. If that's a sin now..."
"You doubted her. Again."
I didn't need context. I felt it before I heard it.
Samantha stood between them, tense and focused. "Stop it. Both of you."
Neither moved.
Alec took a step forward, lightning flickering across his skin like the wrath of Heaven sharpening.
"It was okay that you moved on," he said, his voice cold and clear. "She accepted it. She did nothing to interfere. She respected your choices, even when it broke something inside her."
Eric stiffened.
"But your doubt? Your doubt crucified her. It burned holes in our souls to see it. To hear it." Alec's eyes were glass and storm. "Especially after everything. After all the years. After the love."
Eric opened his mouth, but Alec wasn't done.
He turned and pointed, not at Eric, but at us.
At me and Seth.
"Look at them."
Seth stepped closer, his arm brushing mine, grounding but not possessive.
"They deserve each other. They are meant for each other," Alec continued. "And just like they will never interfere with your relationship with your wife and son... you have no right to interfere with theirs."
The weight of those words hung in the air like the last toll of a bell.
That's when Jamey spoke.
"Enough."
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't glow or flex or spark.
But the energy shifted.
Jamey's presence pulsed outward, amplifying stillness, clarity, intent. It wasn't light or fire. It was something deeper. Something clean.
Seth exhaled quietly beside me. "He anchors frequency. That's why even Heaven listens when he speaks."
Eric looked at me for the first time, truly looked. But I said nothing. My silence was its answer.
Eric stepped back.
Alec stepped down.
Tension leaked out of the moment like steam from cracked stone.
Jamey shrugged, rubbing his temples. "Honestly, all of you owe me pastries. And maybe a nap."
The energy had shifted once more.
Not just in the room, but in the people. Words had been spoken. Tensions exposed. Bonds tested. And now, as if everyone sensed the need to move forward, plates were cleared and chairs scraped back with subdued murmurs.
No one rushed.
No one joked.
They moved like people who had remembered the weight of the world they were trying to save.
Our guests made their way toward the conference room, a vast chamber that overlooked the lake, its windows wide and watching. The walls were lined with bookshelves filled with volumes both sacred and forbidden, and a long, polished table stretched through the center like a spine of purpose.
Eric moved to rejoin his team, but not before his eyes found mine.
He didn't speak. He didn't need to.
There was regret in that gaze, soft and quiet, like a song too late to matter. But I didn't flinch. I didn't nod. I didn't smile.
I held his eyes, steady and unreadable, then turned away without a word.
It wasn't because I was hurting.
It was because I no longer gave him access to the place he hurt.
Some betrayals aren't about cruelty. They're about who wasn't there when it mattered.
And sometimes, being forgotten is the deepest cut.
I hear a quiet step behind me. Seth.
He hadn't seen the look Eric gave me, but his gaze flicked across my face like he was reading the air around me.
"Max."
I turned toward him.
His voice was soft, thoughtful. No alarm. No shield. Just Seth.
"There's something we'll need to do later, if I forget to mention it."
I arched a brow. "You never forget."
"Just in case," he said, eyes twinkling faintly. "We need to start working on Jamey's ability. There's more to him than amplification. He just doesn't know how to direct it yet."
I folded my arms. "He's not exactly a scholar."
Seth leaned in just slightly, his voice a thread of shared amusement. "Which is why Alec's going to train him. Two chaotic energies in one room. What could go wrong?"
I smiled despite myself. "We'll need insurance."
"And a reinforced building."
His tone gentled again. "But he's important, Max. Maybe more than he realizes. You felt it too, didn't you? The way he stopped that moment, not just with power, but with presence."
I nodded slowly.
Seth didn't touch me. He didn't have to. He just stood there, beside me, not over me, letting the moment breathe.
"That was all," he said finally. "Didn't want to forget."
I looked up at him, lips tilting into a soft curve. "Thanks for the reminder."
And just like that, we turned, side by side, and walked toward the storm.
The conference room was equal parts war room and sanctuary.
Businesslike, yes. But somehow, still warm.
We hadn't just come to talk.
We had come to decide what happens next.
Seth, Alec, Samantha, and I took seats at the front, taking the lead as the others settled in.
We got straight to the point.
The discussion covered the ancient texts, the nature of black magic, and the undeniable signs that it had resurfaced. What we left out, however, was the Aeternal Lexicon. That knowledge was for a select few.
Lady Elsa, ever the professional, pressed the pause button on her recorder and cleared her throat.
"So," she said, arching an eyebrow. "We understand the concepts of the whole black magic thing, but how do we find those who are practicing it?"
A silence settled over the room.
That was the million-dollar question.
Jamey, tapping his fingers against the table, leaned back with a thoughtful hum. "We could go for the classic 'follow the smell of sulfur' technique. You'd be shocked how often that works."
Alec shot him a look. "Or we could try something that doesn't involve sniffing out demons like a bloodhound."
Samantha, ever pragmatic, leaned forward. "There are patterns to dark magic. Spikes in unnatural activity, places where spirits become restless. We could track the effects rather than the people."
Lady Elsa nodded. "We'll need concrete leads. If this is happening on a large scale, there will be signs, disappearances, unnatural deaths, symbols left behind. We could use informants, tap into local records, maybe even..."
"Check underground trade routes," I interjected. "Rare spell ingredients, cursed artifacts, forbidden texts... Someone has to be supplying them."
Seth drummed his fingers against the table, eyes sharp with thought. "And if we're dealing with something deep-rooted, there's always the possibility of infiltrating one of their circles."
That earned a low murmur from the group.
Jamey grinned. "Now that sounds fun. Can I volunteer? I'm great at pretending to be evil."
Alec muttered, "That's because you are half-evil."
Jamey gasped, clutching his chest. "How dare you. I am the light of this team."
I smirked. "If you're our light, then we're doomed."
The humor was a momentary reprieve, but the weight of the task settled over us like a thick fog.
Lady Elsa sighed, folding her hands. "We'll need all the resources we can get. If we don't find them first..." She trailed off, but we all knew how that sentence ended.
If we didn't find them, they would find us.
We all agreed. Samuel and Campbell would play the bad guys.
No offense to them, but out of all of us, they were the least likely to draw attention. Their near-silent temperaments made them blend into a crowd like background noise. That anonymity would work in our favor.
Seth and I would be their safety net, ready to step in if things turned sideways. And if that happened, well... my Living Scripture and his Silver Breath wouldn't play nice.
The plan was simple. Samuel and Campbell would infiltrate the black market, strike up a few conversations, and make friends in all the wrong places. People directly involved in dark magic wouldn't just talk to outsiders, but with the right approach, they might let something slip.
We had to start at the source.
Once contact was made, the rest of the teams would decide how to act.
As Samuel and Campbell prepare to leave, someone unexpected speaks up.
"That won't be necessary," Lady Elsa says at last, her voice cutting through the room like a blade. Her hands are clasped tightly, but her gaze is steady. "Because I might already know who's behind it."
The room falls into stunned silence.
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This chapter pulls together threads that have been quietly woven for a long time.
The grief behind the humor.
The first glimmer of Jamey's hidden power.
And the ache of distance that speaks louder than any scream.
Alec said what needed to be said.
Seth did what only he could.
And Max stayed silent... because silence, sometimes, is the truest form of strength.
If you felt the weight in the stillness, hold onto it.
Stillness does not last.
Lady Elsa left a hint. Chapter 25 will name the dark. And once something is named, it begins to stir.
Let me know your thoughts in the comments. I read every one.
If you are catching up, I will be right here, waiting to walk the next stretch with you.