Harlan's eyes narrowed as he stared at Slyvia, his mind swarming with questions. He couldn't believe it. Was he right all along? Was Slyvia really a witch? If so, what did that mean? For years, he had suspected something off about her, but never in his wildest dreams did he think she was capable of wielding such forbidden magic. But what if... what if he had been wrong about Asher? What if instead of Asher, Slyvia had been the true Child of Light all along? No, that was impossible. Someone couldn't be both a divine being and a witch. It defied the laws of nature itself.
Slyvia ignored Harlan's piercing gaze and the judging look Ezekiel threw her way. None of that mattered. Right now, her only focus was bringing back Asher and Jeremy. They were her key to finding the elusive Red Oak Tree—the ultimate solution to this endless nightmare. Without it, she had no hope of saving her friends.
With determination, she knelt on the cold ground and began sketching intricate hunting symbols onto the floor with a piece of chalk. Each stroke carried the weight of an ancient ritual, one that no ordinary being should ever have the knowledge to perform. The lines curved and twisted into an elaborate formation, a spell far beyond mortal comprehension.
Frustration clawed at her chest. Her hands trembled slightly as she rubbed her face, smudging some of the chalk markings.
"Should I help you draw that?" Harlan's voice was laced with sarcasm. "Even if I have no idea what the hell you're trying to do, maybe it's better because you're struggling so much."
Slyvia turned her head slightly in his direction before silently resuming her work. She had no time for his taunts.
Ezekiel, who had been pacing restlessly, finally snapped. He had reached his limit. "Fuck it, Slyvia! Put some effort into this! I know you're blind, but give someone else a chance to help! Stop making us all die of suspense!"
Slyvia froze. The sharpness of his words cut deep, and for the first time, genuine hurt flashed across her face. Even Harlan seemed taken aback by Ezekiel's uncharacteristic harshness.
Slyvia slowly stood up, the chalk slipping from her fingers. Gripping her wooden cane tightly, she exhaled sharply. "So now I'm slow?" Her voice was calm, but the underlying pain was evident. "Stop acting like Asher is your whole world. For a moment, you treated him like he didn't even exist. Why are you acting so extra now?"
Ezekiel clenched his jaw, his pacing stopping abruptly. The words stung because they were true. He had ignored Asher for so long, and now, the very thought of losing him was unbearable. He looked away, blinking rapidly as tears welled in his eyes.
Was he selfish? Yes. But this was different. The protectiveness he felt toward Asher was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Not even Ares—the person he had crushed on for years—had drawn such an intense pull from him. But none of that mattered anymore. At this rate, he was going to lose Asher forever.
Harlan sighed and took a step toward Slyvia, his arms reaching out as if to comfort her. But she shoved him aside before he could make contact.
"I don't need your pity," she spat. "I'm not weak. Zeke is right. We shouldn't be wasting time." She turned back toward Ezekiel, extending her free hand. "Come here, Ezekiel. I need to tap into your power."
Ezekiel hesitated. "You... you know about my powers?" His voice carried a note of shock. He had never revealed them to anyone in this room. Only Asher, Jeremy, and a handful of those useless vampires knew.
Slyvia said nothing. She simply lifted her hand higher.
Ezekiel swallowed hard and stepped forward, placing his hands into her soft, slender palms. The moment their skin touched, Harlan's face darkened.
A surge of energy rippled through the air.
Slyvia inhaled deeply and began chanting.
"Oh, spirits of the dead, I call upon you... This is not their time to go. Open the boundaries, for their souls are needed in the land of the living..."
Her voice rose with every syllable, Latin phrases flowing from her lips like an ancient hymn.
The air grew thick, vibrating with unseen power. The symbols she had drawn on the ground ignited, glowing an eerie crimson. Candles materialized in a perfect circle around the mangled bodies of Asher and Jeremy, their flames flickering wildly.
Then, the wind howled.
The flames soared, stretching toward the ceiling like grasping hands.
Ezekiel's eyes rolled back, turning a solid black as the energy within him responded to Slyvia's spell. He stood motionless, his body nothing more than a vessel for the magic surging through him.
A blinding ball of light erupted from his chest, floating in the air like a miniature sun. The sheer force of it made the entire building tremble.
Slyvia's eyes glowed silver. She raised her arms, absorbing the ball of energy into her palms before directing it toward the lifeless corpses before her.
A monstrous earthquake shook the room, sending cracks spiraling across every wall.
The bodies of Asher and Jeremy convulsed violently, their limbs twitching in unnatural angles.
Harlan's breath hitched. The sight was terrifying.
Then—
Asher's body began to glow.
A brilliant silver radiance engulfed him, lifting him into the air. His chest rose and fell with new life, his skin no longer deathly pale.
Jeremy followed, a loud gasp tearing from his lips as his soul re-entered his body.
Harlan stumbled back, his heart pounding in his chest. That was terrifying.
But just as suddenly as they had come back, both Asher and Jeremy collapsed again.
Ezekiel dropped to his knees, shaking Asher desperately. "What the hell? I thought they were awake! Why aren't they moving?"
He placed a trembling hand against Asher's neck. A pulse. Warmth. Color returning to his face.
They were alive.
Ezekiel let out a sharp exhale, realizing he had been holding his breath. "I thought I lost you forever, Asher," he whispered, his voice raw. "Please... don't ever scare me like that again."
His relief was short-lived.
Slyvia sighed, rubbing her temples. "It's the death spell," she muttered. "Emily is working for the dead witches now. This was their revenge."
Ezekiel's blood ran cold. "Emily?"
Slyvia nodded grimly. "It's Abigail. Somehow, she has control over Emily. Every horrible thing Emily has done... it was all Abigail's doing. That girl is pure evil."
Ezekiel clenched his fists. The death sleep.
Slyvia scoffed. "And by the way, you're welcome. I know you won't thank me, but just so you know, if it weren't for Asher and Rose, I wouldn't even waste my time on you. I can't believe I ever crushed on you before. Your personality is absolutely irritating."
She turned and stormed out of the room, using her cane for guidance.
But the moment she was alone, her bravado crumbled.
Tears streamed down her face as she sank to the floor in exhaustion. "Mom... Dad... I don't know what to do anymore," she whispered. "My friends are all in danger. I'm all alone..."
Then, a scream echoed from inside the school.
Slyvia's breath hitched.
Ezekiel.
Forgetting her blindness, she bolted toward the sound, panic surging through her veins. She had been mad at him, but he was her ally. Her only ally.
But as she ran, she tripped, falling hard against the ground.
A vision struck her like lightning.
She saw Ezekiel walking with Harlan—only to be ambushed by a woman with a corpse-like face.
Slyvia's eyes widened in horror. "NOOOO! EZEKIEL, FIGHT THE INFLUENCE!"
But in the vision, Ezekiel was bound.
And then—
Ares stepped forward, his voice dark and possessive.
"You're coming with me, Ezekiel," he sneered. "I will mark you. You will be my mate and my slave. Imagine having someone as powerful as you as my pet... Won't that be fun?"
Slyvia let out a strangled scream.
She was doomed.
She was completely alone.