By morning, the chill had crept into the walls of the apartment, clinging like the shadow of something yet to come. Lilith had already brewed strong coffee by the time Elizabeth wandered into the kitchen, her hair a wild halo of sleep and leftover magic. Nicholas leaned against the counter, thumbing through a worn leather-bound book he'd brought from the restricted wing of the academy's library—one of the few places vampires like him were still allowed to access with ease. "We start with his full name," Nicholas said without looking up. "Adrian Cainus Ruelle. The middle name is the key. It's old Latin. 'Cainus' translates loosely to 'he who bears the mark of betrayal.'" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "That's... dramatic." "He's always been dramatic," Lilith muttered, sliding a mug toward her cousin. "Even when he was a demon prince." Elizabeth nearly choked on her first sip. "Excuse me?" Lilith gave a small smirk. "It was centuries ago. He was summoned by a blood witch and left behind a trail of poisoned love affairs and broken pacts. The witch who summoned him ended up cursed—and then vanished."
Nicholas nodded grimly. "It lines up with what I found. I traced Adrian's presence back to at least five identities across different magical cultures. In every incarnation, he weaves himself close to power—always through charm, always through seduction—and then dismantles it from the inside." "Always circling me," Elizabeth murmured, the memory of her vision still humming behind her eyes. "He doesn't just want your magic," Lilith said softly. "He wants your undoing. That's the part that feeds him." Nicholas laid out a scroll across the table. On it, charcoal sketches and notes in looping hand described a ritual once used to bind eternal souls, tethering them across time. "This is how he stays connected to you," Nicholas explained. "He's bound his essence to yours. If we want to sever that connection—finally end this cycle—we need to perform the ritual in reverse." "But reversing it is dangerous," Lilith added. "You'd be cutting a soul-thread that's tangled through centuries of history. If we're not exact, it could… unravel too much."
Elizabeth sat, feeling the weight of past lives and the future pressing in from both sides. "I'm done running from him," she said at last. "Let's find the exact moment he first bound himself to me—and break it." Nicholas and Lilith exchanged a look—an unspoken blend of fear and admiration. "I know where we need to look next," Lilith said. "There's a tomb hidden beneath the old sanctuary ruins in the northern forest. If the original summoning happened there, the echo might still remain." Nicholas's eyes darkened. "We'll need protection, and we'll need to move soon. If Adrian senses we're tracking his origins…" "Then he'll try to stop us," Elizabeth finished. The wind outside howled, brushing against the windows like a whisper of warning. But inside, the fire between them burned steady.
The trees thickened as the road narrowed, their twisted branches arching overhead like ribs. The further north they drove, the more the sky dimmed—despite the sun still riding high. It was as though the forest itself knew what they were coming to uncover. Elizabeth sat in the backseat of the enchanted SUV, the one Lilith had borrowed from a client who owed her too many favors. The engine didn't make a sound, but Elizabeth's heartbeat did—thundering in her ears like an ancient drum. Nicholas was behind the wheel, eyes forward, jaw tight. He hadn't said much since they left the apartment, his silence weightier than usual. Lilith sat shotgun, flipping through a grimy old spellbook and humming to herself like they were headed to a picnic instead of an old grave-site bound in curses. "Almost there," she said, licking her finger and turning a brittle page. "The map said we'll hit the outer wards in about two miles. That's when we'll have to go on foot." Elizabeth peered out the window. Mist laced the trees now, rolling low and thick across the moss-covered floor. The road faded to gravel, then to nothing.
They pulled over near a broken stone marker nearly devoured by ivy. Lilith stepped out first, stretching. "Alright. Wards are old. Likely still active. Be careful where you step. And stay close." Elizabeth followed, tightening her coat. The air was cooler here. Denser. Nicholas took the lead through the trees. He moved with silent purpose, one hand always near the hilt of the silver-edged blade strapped to his belt. Elizabeth stayed in the middle. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching them—not just following, but waiting. It took nearly an hour of walking before the forest opened. The ruins emerged like a breath exhaled from the earth: stone archways shattered in half, sunken staircases leading nowhere, and a central dais covered in runes that pulsed faintly even after all this time. In the center stood a broken obelisk carved from black marble, its top shattered. "This is it," Nicholas said. "The Sanctuary." Elizabeth stepped forward, drawn like a tide pulled by the moon. She knelt near the base of the obelisk, brushing away leaves and soil until her fingers touched something cold. A seal—burned into the stone like it had never faded. A spiral wrapped in thorned vines. "It's his," she whispered. "Adrian. He marked the ritual site."
Lilith's voice dropped. "Then this is where it began." As the three of them circled the center, the wind stilled. The birds went silent. Elizabeth felt something rise through the soles of her boots—like the ground itself was humming with memory. Then it hit. A pulse—sharp, invisible, and electric—rippled through the air. Elizabeth staggered, caught by Nicholas just before she fell. The runes lit up. Lilith threw a hand out, casting a protective circle as the ancient spell mechanisms stirred. "What's happening?" Elizabeth breathed, staring at the symbols now glowing a pale, angry gold. Nicholas's eyes narrowed. "He set a failsafe." "And it just woke up." Suddenly, from the edges of the clearing, shadows began to slither. Not men. Not spirits. Remnants. Wraith-like figures dragged from forgotten blood pacts, their eyes glowing the same color as the runes. Lilith grinned darkly. "Well," she said, tightening her grip on her wand, "I was getting bored." Elizabeth rose, magic prickling at her fingertips. Nicholas drew his blade, already stepping in front of her. Together, they turned to face the phantoms of Adrian's past.
And for the first time, Elizabeth didn't feel like the hunted. She felt ready to fight. The first of the remnants lunged, a jagged blur of shadow and malice, shrieking through the veil of the wards like broken glass on stone. Nicholas met it mid-charge, blade flashing in a deadly arc. The creature let out a hollow scream as silver sliced through it, dispersing its form into a black mist that hissed as it faded. More emerged. They came in twos and threes—wisps of semi-corporeal darkness shaped like people, their eyes like molten gold, their mouths stitched shut as though some ancient spell had silenced them for eternity. Lilith stepped into the center of the circle, her eyes glowing faintly violet as she murmured a rapid string of incantations. A glowing glyph flared beneath her boots, and lines of light spiraled outward from her, forming a protective barrier that forced the remnants to recoil when they came too close. Elizabeth barely had time to think. The magic welled up instinctively this time—her hand raised, and with it, a shimmer of crackling blue energy burst from her palm, striking one of the wraiths and knocking it off its course mid-leap.
She stared at her hand, momentarily stunned. "I didn't—" "You did," Lilith called, grinning even as she released a second warding pulse. "Now do it again!" Another phantom dove for her. This time, Elizabeth didn't hesitate. She stepped forward, both hands lifted. The force that poured through her wasn't chaotic like before—it was focused, like a current answering her call. She spoke no spell. She willed it—and lightning split the air. The remnant shrieked as the arc of raw energy pierced through it and sent its form unraveling like torn cloth in a gale. Nicholas was already moving through the others with ruthless grace, his blade spinning, cutting, always a step ahead. But even he was starting to slow. These weren't mindless constructs. They were fragments of Adrian's magic, powered by something older, something deeper. "They're tethered to the ritual site!" he shouted over the sound of crashing spells and howling wind. "We have to break the source!" Elizabeth turned toward the obelisk, now glowing brighter than ever. The spiral symbol throbbed like a heartbeat. She knew it in her bones: it was the anchor. "Cover me!" she shouted, then sprinted toward the center. Lilith unleashed a concussive blast of purple energy that flattened three remnants closing in on her cousin. Nicholas shifted, slashing through another and moving to intercept a fourth.
Elizabeth knelt at the obelisk, magic dancing across her skin. Her fingers hovered just above the seal. "Okay," she whispered. "Come on, come on…" She placed her hand on the symbol. The reaction was immediate. The ground trembled. Magic surged up her arm like a fuse lit from the inside. The world around her fell away as a blinding wave of light exploded outward from the seal. The wraiths let out a unified, agonizing scream—and dissolved. The runes flickered, sparked… then went out. Silence fell over the ruins. Elizabeth dropped to her knees, breath ragged, heart hammering. Her skin still buzzed with residual energy, but the overwhelming pressure was gone. The connection—the binding—had been severed. Nicholas rushed to her, gripping her shoulders. "Are you alright?" She looked up at him, eyes wide but clear. "I think I just unraveled part of his spell." Lilith limped toward them, smudged with soot and grinning like she'd just survived a theme park ride. "Damn," she said. "We need to bring you to cursed sites more often." Elizabeth gave a weak laugh, shaking. But underneath it all, she felt something different. Not fear. Not exhaustion. She felt powerful. She rose to her feet, supported by Nicholas, and stared down at the cracked symbol one last time. "This is only the beginning," she murmured. Nicholas looked at her, pride flickering in his eyes. "And next time, he won't see you coming."
The ride home was mostly silent. The night air whispered through the open windows of Nicholas's car, carrying the scent of pine and old earth. The energy from the battle still clung to them—on their skin, in their bones, in the look that passed between them whenever they met one another's eyes. Elizabeth sat in the backseat, curled in Lilith's oversized jacket. Her fingers toyed with the hem absentmindedly, still tingling from the magic that had poured through her. She'd touched something ancient tonight—something not just powerful, but familiar. Like a song she didn't remember learning but somehow knew by heart.
Beside her, Lilith leaned back with her eyes closed, hair tousled and flecked with dried leaves from the ruins. Her breathing was steady, but her aura hummed with thought. Nicholas gripped the wheel, his jaw set, but his eyes occasionally flicked to the rearview mirror—to Elizabeth. Not in suspicion. In concern. In something that hovered dangerously close to awe. When they reached the apartment, it was nearly midnight.
Lilith unlocked the door, and they all stepped inside, wordless. The apartment felt smaller than usual, like the weight of what they'd uncovered hadn't quite fit through the door but had followed them anyway. Lilith peeled off her jacket and tossed it onto the back of the couch. "Okay," she said, voice scratchy. "Tea. We need tea. Possibly whiskey. Probably both." Elizabeth gave a tired laugh. "I'll help." Nicholas didn't move from the doorway until she passed him. His hand brushed against hers—light, accidental—and she felt a rush of warmth bloom up her arm. Once the tea was made and the lights were dimmed low, the three of them gathered in the living room. The spellbook lay open between them, along with Nicholas's leather-bound journal and the half-scorched notes they'd salvaged from the ruins. Lilith sipped from her mug. "That seal on the obelisk—it was more than just a lock. It was a memory trap. You didn't just sever his protection. You accessed something tied to your past lives." Elizabeth frowned. "But why would Adrian bind a memory to a ritual site?" Nicholas leaned forward, one arm resting on his knee. "Because he was hiding something. Not from you—but from everyone. That fragment you touched—it belonged to you. A version of you, from another time. And it held knowledge. Maybe something he feared you'd remember." Elizabeth nodded slowly. "It wasn't just a battle. It was a warning. A message left behind... for me."
They sat in silence for a beat, the hum of the city barely audible through the walls. Then Lilith asked, quietly, "What did you see?" Elizabeth wrapped both hands around her mug, her voice soft and steady. "I saw a tower. White stone. Surrounded by fire. I saw a woman—me—but older. Wiser. Dressed in ceremonial robes, standing with a blade of light in her hand. And Adrian… or someone who looked like him, standing across from her. Pleading." Nicholas's gaze darkened. "Pleading for what?" "To stop," she whispered. "To not bind him. To not curse him." Lilith's eyebrows shot up. "Wait—you cursed him?" Elizabeth shook her head. "Another me did. But it felt like… like justice. She wasn't cruel. She was crying. It broke her to do it." Nicholas's voice dropped to a near-growl. "So this has happened before." Lilith reached for a pen and paper, already sketching out the memory. "No wonder he's obsessed with you. You're not just someone powerful—you're someone who's wronged him. Or at least, he believes you did." The room fell into thoughtful silence. Then Nicholas stood, pacing once before he turned to them both. "This isn't just about power or revenge. It's about cycles. Repeating ones. Adrian wants to change the outcome this time." Elizabeth looked up at him. "And I'm the key." "Yes," he said. "But not the way he thinks. You're not that same woman, Elizabeth. You have a choice now." She nodded slowly, the weight of it settling in her chest like a stone. Lilith finished her tea and leaned back against the couch. "Well, I vote we break the cycle. And preferably, Adrian's nose." A tired chuckle passed between them. Nicholas sat down again, closer this time, his voice lower, private. "You're stronger than you realize, Elizabeth. But we're not letting you do this alone." She met his eyes and saw the truth in them. Steady. Devoted. And something else too—something wordless, raw, and unspoken. "I know," she said. "I'm not afraid." But part of her was. And yet… for the first time, that fear didn't feel like weakness. It felt like fuel.
The apartment had gone still. Lilith had retired to her room with a yawn and a playful warning not to stay up all night "being broody and tragic." The soft click of her door closing left Elizabeth and Nicholas alone in the living room, wrapped in the golden hush of midnight. Outside the window, the city was quiet. Only the occasional hum of a distant car or the rustle of wind in the trees stirred the silence. Elizabeth remained on the couch, her legs curled beneath her, the cooling mug of tea forgotten in her hands. Nicholas stood by the window, silhouetted by streetlight. His coat was gone, his sleeves rolled up, and he looked almost human in the stillness—tired, but grounded. Real. She spoke first, her voice a thread in the dark. "Do you think I was right to do it? Back then. In that life..."
He didn't answer immediately. Just turned toward her, gaze heavy with thoughts he hadn't yet spoken aloud. "I think," he said slowly, walking toward her, "that carrying the weight of your past doesn't mean you have to live by it." He sat down beside her, not too close, but not distant either. Close enough that she felt his warmth, close enough that their energies were starting to recognize each other's shapes in the dark. "I've spent lifetimes trying to outrun what I am," Nicholas continued. "And it never worked. But you—you have the chance to understand it. To rewrite it, even." Elizabeth looked down at her hands. "What if I make the same mistake again?" He reached out gently, brushing his fingers against hers. "Then we face the consequences together." The touch sent a ripple through her chest—warmth, steadiness, the grounding presence of someone who had seen both horror and wonder and still chose to stay beside her. "You're not alone in this, Elizabeth. Not now. Not ever again." Her breath hitched slightly at that. A small thing, but it cracked something open inside her. She leaned against him slowly, letting her head rest against his shoulder. They sat there in silence for a while, bodies aligned, heartbeats slowing in sync. She could feel his pulse, steady under her cheek, and she knew without doubt—he wasn't just protecting her out of guilt or fate or history. It was now. It was her. When she finally spoke, her voice was low. "Thank you. For not giving up on me. Even when I didn't know who I was." He turned his head just enough to press his lips softly to the crown of her head. "You're more than who you were, Elizabeth. You're who you're becoming." She closed her eyes and let herself believe him. Just for tonight.
The Next Morning A soft glow poured into the apartment from between the curtains. Lilith was already up, bustling in the kitchen with that strange pre-caffeinated energy only witches and madwomen possessed. Elizabeth emerged from her room wearing one of Nicholas's shirts, borrowed at some sleepy point in the night, and padded barefoot into the living room. Lilith glanced at her with a knowing grin. "Well, someone looks spiritually nourished." "Lilith," Elizabeth groaned, rubbing her eyes. Nicholas followed a moment later, dressed in clean clothes and with the faintest smirk. "You should hear what she said before you walked in." Lilith raised a brow. "Oh, I haven't even started." Elizabeth sat at the table and pulled a toast slice toward her. "You two are dangerous together." "Agreed," Nicholas said dryly. "Which is exactly why we make a good team." Lilith's grin faded into something more thoughtful. "Speaking of teams—today we need to organize the protective grid. Reinforce the wards around the shop and apartment, and prepare the circle for another ritual. If Adrian's next move involves turning others or summoning more like Kade, we're going to need our full strength." Nicholas nodded. "I can take care of securing the perimeter. I'll also check the ley line markers again. They shifted slightly during the last backlash." Elizabeth took a bite, then spoke with a mouthful. "And I can go through the book again. There was a sigil I saw in the ruins—it might connect to the binding spell from my vision." They exchanged glances. This was their rhythm now. Comfortable. Coordinated. A strange, magical family forged in chaos. Lilith clapped her hands. "Alright then, witches and warriors. Let's get to work." And with that, the day began—quietly, but with purpose. The war might not be here yet, but the preparations were well underway.