Keiron

Being welcomed into another coven, while lovely, felt strange to the solitary witch, with some nostalgia from his childhood doing the same with his family.

He gazed at Luke, the giddy human, like a kid at Christmas. He had never partaken in a large coven circle; he only ever knew of their coupled unit.

His sister touched his shoulder and whispered, “Do you think we should ask the coven?”

They looked at each other in thought. He knew what she was talking about…

All the books they had gave them nothing about Hecate’s symbol, much less about what a goddess’ symbol would be on Lexi… Other than a ‘deal’ being made.

“You’re sure Lexi didn’t mention anything about Hecate or making a deal?” Keiron asked again.

“No, only that she saw Selena…” Isobelle recalled.

Keiron sighed and shrugged, “More heads are better than one.”

“Are you still talking about the symbol?” Luke snuck up on them both.

“Are you stuck?” Luke jibbed, nudging his boyfriend.

“Yes…” Keiron groaned.

“You know… there is a wonderful thing called the internet…”

Isobelle laughed, “You think this magic stuff will be on the internet?”

“No harm in trying, right?” Luke held up a mobile.

“He has a point, Izzie.”

Isobelle glared at her little brother; she hated that pet name.

“Alright, let’s try. Will you do the honours, Luke?”

“Gladly!” he cheered, walking into the lit house.

“Tell your coven. They might come up with something,” Keiron looked at his sister before following Luke into the house.

“Travis!” Isobelle smiled, turning to the newly appointed coven leader…

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Lexi

We made progress. Going past the familiar stream put more hope into our steps.

Although the forest was no longer quiet.

As expected, the more we moved towards the familiar part of the woods, the more minions we came across.

Lathen grunted as he whipped water around to a lone vampire, and he ushered us forward.

We were becoming exhausted, and Devan even showed laboured breath.

“We’re close,” Devan smiled.

A loud grunt from Lathen made us all turn to look back at him.

It seemed we had missed one in the small gaggle. Lathen fought with the lone vamp, trying to push the vampire off him. The sweat dripping down his forehead told me he was losing the battle of physical strength. A slip of Lathen’s hand gave way to being pinned. An arm around his back had him hissing in pain.

“Shit!” Devan exclaimed and rushed forward towards his friend.

He didn’t have the chance to get close. He was tackled to the ground by a blur by not one but two.

“Go!” Leo shouted to the three of us, turning away to wrestle another oncoming vampire streaking towards us. His magic rose to his fingertips, and his opponent hissed at the contact but didn’t stop.

Quinn squealed as her hand ripped from mine to the left. She was held against a tree by her collar. She tried to claw the hand holding her.

They were too quick.

This time, they were not playing.

I swallowed, thinking about the next move, but Seri beat me. Her blue magic began to hum once more as she called the vines like last time.

“I don’t think so.” Cornelius reached out and grasped her wrist, twisting it up above her head.

She screamed out in pain, and without a second thought, I seared the arm holding her. His scream echoed into the forest, clasping his seared arm and cradling it against himself.

“Run!” I screamed, pulling Seri with me.

We needed help. We couldn’t do this alone.

Megan stepped in my path, blocking it. Her favourite knife twirled around her hands as she stepped closer.

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Seri was pulled backwards by her ankle, making her fall. She was trapped to the ground.

‘We’re not close enough.’

I lightly put up my hands and froze as the cold blade reached my neck. The long night at the abbey flashed before my eyes, and tears fell as Cornelius’s laugh echoed around and around in my mind.

“Here we are again,” he started, approaching me.

I was forced to turn, facing my small coven. The iron chains made another appearance; this time, they were thicker; they looked more like old shackles and instantly bit into my skin, pushing my magic below the surface. I could see Leo still fighting the two that practically sat on top of him.

I was trapped once more.

“You should work on your aim, Lexi,” he taunted.

“Fuck you.”

He laughed and clapped his hands, taking a step forward to Seri.

“I think we will start with this one…”

A distant, harrowing scream caught my attention. No one else reacted to it. I swallowed thickly, hoping it was my imagination.

“Bring them. I can’t afford to lose more.”

Every human was pale, full of grime and grease… none of them looked well. There weren’t just a few… It seemed like a large village was here to be turned.

The bite of metal at my throat caught my attention. I hissed at the small cut Megan had produced.

“Careful, Megan,” Cornelius teased, “Don’t damage the goods and don’t worry Sweetheart, you’ll all be doing your share.”

I did not miss that smirk. I was held still by Megan as the first of, I assumed, many feeders.

Quinn began to sob.

My heart squeezed.

A nightmare comes true.

“You led them here like lambs to slaughter!”

I silently cried at the shouts and screams of my coven.

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I felt lightheaded as the third stood before me. The boys no longer fought against their captors. Even Seri and Quinn were quiet, and I couldn’t help but lose hope. We were too far away from pack territory and from home. We were alone, just like Whitby.

Fat tears didn’t stop rolling.

I dared not look around; I knew what the scene looked like. I didn’t need to see it again.

“Cornelius Selvaski. Stop right there.”

A voice thundered through the eerie quietness. All attention turned to the late interrupter.

“Ahh, Magnus has arrived.” Cornelius turned; a smile unnaturally stretched his face.

It was my first time seeing the infamous detective. He… wasn’t as I expected. His hair was a short, mousy blonde and was a mess, but his hazel eyes shined bright. A light stubble covered his face, but he was leaner for a middle-aged man. His height only matched mine. Cornelius quickly looked down at him.

There was some familiarity about him.

‘Now is not the time, Lexi.’

Magnus stepped forward, palms up and commanded, “Arrestoira.”

His grey-looking magic encased Cornelius and a few others, making them freeze like ice to the ground.

Magnus was straining. A bead of sweat dripped from his forehead.

“Get the silver on them, Quick!” he encouraged his backup.

With a groan, Cornelius rolled his eyes and announced, “That's enough.”

“Blackspit!” he shouted.

It felt like the earth rolled beneath our feet. Sickly familiar green rolled over like mist at our feet.

There was no chant, no whisper. Yet Magnus’ magic died off, and he looked down at his hands, confused. Like rag dolls, his teammates fell one by one to the ground. The detective looked around, perplexed.

She emerged from the trees with a single hand up. A familiar black cloak shrouded her face and hair from view.

The magic felt different than last time, more potent.

A few vampires began to circle the detective, but he came prepared. Pulling out a knife, he slashed at one of the vampires. A small cut burst into flames, a short scream. They were nothing more than ash.

The knife was made from elf silver. It's one of the few things to kill a vampire.

The other took a big step back out of Magnus's reach, but he continued forward.

I hoped he wasn’t the only one with those knives… I tried to look around at the limp bodies, searching for a glint of silver.

There.

Megan's grip became tighter as I tried to move slowly.

“No bright ideas, witch,” she whispered in my ear.

“For god's sake! Someone get him!?” Cornelius, now angry, continued with his plans of turning the sickly humans.

The ground shuddered, and a distant howl caught my attention.

This time, everyone reacted to it.

“Blackspit… Conceal us.”

‘Don’t let her!’

I bit Megan’s wrist as hard as I could. She screamed out in pain and finally let go of her vice grip.

In one breath, I lunged down, grasping the glinting silver and turned and pierced her thigh.

She burst into flame.

Not a scream, not a whisper.

She was gone.

“You little-!” Cornelius gasped.

“Libero,” I whispered, confused, the heavy chains dropping.

‘I never learned that spell.’

“Spatium hoc celo…”

As the witch began her Latin chant, I felt a surge of panic. I can’t let the concealment spell complete. Gathering the little energy I had left, I thrust my hand forward and shouted.

“Ciúnas!”

Instantly, Blackspits words were cut off, leaving an echo of silence.

“Not today,” I muttered. Surprisingly, I kept my voice steady and defiant.

Cornelius took a large breath and stepped forward.

Only a huff could be heard as fur broke the tree line, and a vast grey wolf pinned Cornelius.

The Alpha Dominic.

But Cornelius’ strength surprised the Alpha, and he quickly fled with a giant wolf following him.

Blurs of fur and pale skin overtook my vision as his pack joined the fight. More blood flew left and right as bodies were ripped apart.

This was our only chance.

“Libero!” I said once more and heard the others’ shackles release.

“Go! To the oak!” I said, running to Leo. Relief flooded me as his blue eyes met mine.

Quinn rushed from her spot to Devan, helping him up quickly, and held a hand to Seri before running.

Lathen helped me pull Leo up, and the three of us followed after the others.

A giant beast blocked our path, and Leo pushed me slightly behind him.

“Not this way.”

“…Tiffany?” I asked.

“Not now! Go Left.” The fur bristled past us, leaping on a vampire trying to follow us.

We took heed and went left towards the familiar stream.

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As we approached, I skidded to a halt. The hand holding Leo’s made him stop, too.

“Lex?” he questioned, looking around nervously.

“Please tell me you see her…” I whispered, watching Lathen kneel to take a drink from the stream.

“Who?” he tensed, following my eyeline.

That was all I needed.

A mournful wail escaped her, one that only I heard. I knew why she was here, why only I could see her.

Draped in tattered robes that seemed to be woven from shadows and mist. The fabric moved like smoke around her, never fully solid, constantly shifting. Her hands, claw-like and skeletal, reached out towards the water as if to grasp at something unseen. Her movements were smooth and silent, like a ghostly fog drifting through the night.

Her hair, a cascade of silver-white, flowed as if caught in the wind and whispered the past. Her eyes, dark and hollow, held the weight of centuries of sorrow.

Her skin was pale, nearly translucent, giving her an otherworldly glow under the moonlight. Framed by thin, colourless lips, her mouth was slightly parted, singing a melancholic melody that chilled my soul.

The banshee sat by the small stream, an ethereal figure that seemed to flicker in and out of existence—an aura of melancholy around her, an ancient sadness that spoke of lost loves and unfulfilled destinies. The banshee's presence was an omen; she foresees death.

She looked up at me as I stepped forward from Leo’s ushering.

Her song no longer felt serene. She shifted back, and it turned into a piercing scream. Her cry was a harbinger of doom, resonating with the primal fear of the unknown.

Her song was for me.