Riley hesitated outside the closed door, calming her rising anxiety before lifting her hand to knock. Her heart pounded.
The door creaked open.
There stood Ryder...shirtless, his damp hair disheveled from a recent shower. Droplets of water trailed down his chiseled chest, muscles taut and sculpted like a Greek statue. He leaned against the frame, smirking.
"Seems you're feeling better," he remarked, voice low and teasing.
Riley blinked, quickly dragging her eyes up from his body. "I just wanted to let you know Emily and Ethan are coming back tomorrow," she said flatly, ignoring the way her cheeks threatened to warm.
"I heard," Ryder said with a hum, brushing his wet hair back.
But Riley's gaze had lingered too long. He caught it...her staring...and his smirk deepened.
"Doesn't look like that's the only reason you came," he drawled.
Riley narrowed her eyes, immediately regretting knocking. "Ugh, you're so full of yourself," she muttered, spinning around and walking off, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.
⸻
Elsewhere, Emily stood alone in front of a strange house. It looked familiar,achingly so...but the memory danced just beyond her reach.
She glanced down. Her clothes were the same from yesterday.
How did I get here?
She climbed the porch steps slowly, reaching for the doorbell. No answer. She frowned, then pushed gently.
The door creaked open.
"Hello?" she called out, stepping inside cautiously. "Is anyone here?"
The house was silent.
She wandered into the kitchen, heart thudding. It was empty. Just as she turned to leave, a loud thump sounded from upstairs.
Adrenaline kicked in. She backed out of the kitchen and looked toward the staircase.
Another noise.
This one sharper. Closer.
Swallowing hard, Emily climbed the stairs, every step echoing in her ears. At the top, she opened a door...and froze.
Inside, a man was feeding on a girl. Blood smeared his mouth, his eyes glowing deep crimson.
He looked up. Smirked.
Then, without a care, he dropped the unconscious girl like a rag doll and started toward her.
Emily's scream caught in her throat.
She bolted.
The man chased her...predator to prey. Her vision blurred. Her lungs burned.
⸻
"Doctor says she's free to go," a nurse informed Ethan as he stood outside the ward.
Inside, Emily awoke with a startled gasp. Cold sweat clung to her skin.
Ethan looked over immediately. "You're awake," he said softly, stepping closer.
Her heartbeat still raced, the nightmare lingering in her bones. She forced a weak nod, saying nothing about the horrific dream. Not now. Not yet.
"Are you okay?" he asked gently, sensing something was off.
"I'm fine," she murmured, brushing it aside.
They didn't linger at the hospital. Soon, they were on the road, headed back for Riley's parents' funeral.
⸻
Thanks to Ryder, the bodies had been preserved long enough to allow a proper burial. No one questioned how, just that it was done.
As Ethan drove, Emily sat beside him in silence, trying to steel herself for what lay ahead.
"When is the witch arriving?" she finally asked, breaking the quiet.
"She's already in Atlanta," Ethan replied, eyes fixed on the road.
Emily exhaled, relieved. "Is she... from Riley's bloodline?"
"No. Different kind of witch," Ethan responded. "Older. Stronger. She's lived as long as the oldest vampires."
Emily blinked, stunned. "That long?"
"She's powerful. If anyone can help Riley, it's her," he added.
"And Riley... will she live that long too?"
Ethan didn't answer immediately. "That depends. If she learns to control her power...maybe. But if she ever lets it consume her... it could kill her."
The words sent a chill through Emily. She looked down, heart aching. "I don't want her to die."
"She won't," Ethan said quietly. "Not if we keep her safe."
Emily nodded.
Later, she'd called her mom, giving a believable story: she'd taken Riley away to clear her head after the tragedy. Her mother had understood, encouraging her to take care of her friend and come home when ready.
⸻
By the time they arrived home, preparations were already underway for the funeral.
Riley had gone ahead with Ryder.
Emily changed into a modest black dress, grateful to Henry, who had picked it out during her absence. She stood by the mirror, tying her hair back in a simple knot when she heard a voice behind her.
"Still not ready?" Ethan asked.
She turned...and immediately spun back around, face flushed. He was shirtless.
"Why are you naked?" she squeaked.
"I'm not naked," Ethan replied, rolling his eyes, amused. "Little lamp, you're dramatic."
She frowned. "Thought you stopped calling me that!"
Ethan chuckled but didn't answer. As he turned away to button his shirt, Emily's eyes caught something on his back.
A tattoo.
A large, black bird with menacing wings.
A raven...sharp-beaked, eerie, almost alive.
"Your tattoo..." she murmured.
He stilled. Then slowly turned back, his expression unreadable. "What about it?"
She saw something flicker in his eyes—anger? Pain?
"It's... beautiful," she said softly.
He stared at her for a beat longer, then nodded. "I'll be downstairs."
He left without another word.
Emily stood frozen, realizing she'd touched a nerve. She hadn't meant to, but clearly, the tattoo meant something deeper. Something he didn't want to talk about.
⸻
The ride to the cemetery was quiet. Ethan hadn't said a word since leaving the house.
Emily didn't push him.
Henry drove this time, and despite the soft, slow music playing through the speakers, the air remained heavy with grief.
No one spoke.
Only the sound of tires on the road, and the memory of lives lost.
Riley's parents were gone. Her world was shattered.
And everyone felt it.
The funeral awaited. And with it...more truths. More pain.
And possibly... the beginning of Riley's darkest battle.