The light crept in slowly. A pale, golden wash spilled across the hardwood floor of the apartment, casting long shadows and painting everything in soft, trembling warmth. The world beyond the window was quiet — not silent, but hushed, like it too was holding its breath. Elizabeth blinked awake. The jacket still draped over her shoulders. The tea on the coffee table long gone cold. Her body ached slightly — not with pain, but the weight of everything that had changed in the span of a single night. Nicholas was still there. Not asleep, not restless — just present, a steady silhouette by the window. Watching. Protecting. "You didn't leave," she murmured. He looked over, something gentle softening the edges of his expression. "Didn't plan to." She sat up, brushing a hand through her sleep-tousled hair. "I dreamed again, I think. But it was… quieter this time. More like echoes than a full vision." "That's good." He walked over, crouching beside the couch. "It means the wards we placed yesterday are working. He couldn't push through them." She gave a small smile. "Then we're learning." "We have to," he said. "Because this is only the beginning." Elizabeth nodded, then stood, stretching. "Then let's treat it like the beginning." Nicholas raised a brow. "Meaning?" She glanced down at herself, still in yesterday's clothes, hair wild, eyes shadowed — but fire beginning to light in her chest again. "Meaning today, we stop being reactive. We learn. We train. And we prepare."
Just then, Lilith emerged from the hallway, yawning dramatically and holding a mug that said I Do Hexes Before Breakfast. "Well, finally someone's ready to talk strategy," she said with a smirk. "Get dressed, darlings. We've got spells to cast, barriers to raise, and oh — possibly the identity of a false friend to unravel." Elizabeth met Nicholas's eyes. "You ready for this?" Nicholas smiled faintly, a rare glint of mischief flashing through the storm in his gaze. "With you two? I think I have no choice." The apartment had been transformed. Books lay open on nearly every surface, pages fluttering with ancient enchantments. Candles burned steadily in a circle across the living room floor. Crystals shimmered in patterns, some glowing faintly under Elizabeth's touch. The air itself thrummed with potential — alive and electric. Lilith adjusted the protective wards one more time. "Okay," she said, stepping back. "Focus on your breath. Draw the energy from within. Let it move with your intent — not your panic." "Noted," Elizabeth muttered, tightening her stance. Nicholas stood by, arms crossed, watching her. Not with doubt, but with quiet intensity. "You're stronger than you realize," he said, his voice low and grounding. "Trust that." Elizabeth nodded and lifted her hands. She drew in a deep breath.
The runes beneath her feet shimmered. Magic answered. A pulse of blue light flickered around her fingertips — shaky at first, but then steadying. She closed her eyes, letting the magic bloom outward, feeding it thought, focus, will. A small orb of flame hovered between her palms — contained and warm. She opened her eyes, surprise flickering in them. Lilith clapped once. "That's my girl!" Elizabeth grinned, sweat beading on her brow. "Okay, now what?" "Let it shift form," Lilith instructed. "Give it purpose. A tool. A shield. Something." Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, pouring more concentration into the orb. The fire flickered — stretched — then twisted into a thin veil of flame, rippling like silk. Her control trembled, just for a second. And then— A crack sounded through the room. The air snapped, the warding sigils sparked — and suddenly the flame spiraled out of her grip. "Back—!" Nicholas stepped forward— Too late. The orb surged outward, slamming into one of the crystal lines. Light exploded across the room, a wave of uncontrolled energy rushing up the walls like a storm unfurling its wings. The sigils shattered. Candles extinguished. Elizabeth dropped to her knees with a gasp, winded. Lilith cursed, hands glowing to re-stabilize the circle. "That wasn't you. That was something else—"
A sudden bang at the front door. Everyone froze. Nicholas was already moving, hand on the concealed blade at his side. "Stay behind me," he said under his breath. Elizabeth stood, pulse racing. Lilith raised her hand to ward the door — just as the knob turned. The wards should've stopped it. No one should've been able to cross them. But the door creaked open on its own, slow and deliberate. And then — he stepped in. A man. Tall, dark-clothed, lean in the way that suggested strength without bulk. His presence was like a whisper at the back of your mind — something you almost recognized but couldn't quite place. His eyes locked on Elizabeth. Lilith's expression darkened instantly. "Who the hell are you?" He didn't answer at first. Just scanned the room, gaze briefly flicking to Nicholas — lingering there longer than necessary. Then to the shattered sigils. Then finally, back to Elizabeth. "I came to warn you," he said, voice smooth as smoke. "You're not just unlocking your power — you're becoming a beacon. They'll come now. All of them." Elizabeth swallowed hard. "And who exactly are you?" The man's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Someone who knows exactly what Adrian's after. And how far he'll go to get it." Nicholas stepped forward, blocking her instinctively. "And why should we trust you?" The man raised a brow. "Because I'm not here to earn your trust. I'm here because whether you like it or not, you're running out of time."
Nicholas didn't move from his position in front of Elizabeth. The air between the two men was charged — not with magic, but with something more primal. Recognition. Rivalry. A flicker of past shadows neither had voiced yet. The stranger stepped further into the room, completely unfazed by the energy still crackling faintly in the walls. "You should be thanking me. If I hadn't come when I did, your little magical outburst might've invited something worse than me." Lilith narrowed her eyes. "If that's your way of saying hello, your people skills suck." The man gave her a crooked smirk, but didn't take his eyes off Elizabeth. "You're waking up too fast. That's the problem. Power like yours… it doesn't like to be rushed. It breaks things. Including the people around you." Nicholas's voice cut like ice. "You know nothing about her." "Oh, I know more than you think, vampire." The man's gaze finally flicked to him, sharp and deliberate. "And I know exactly what happens when someone like her is used as a pawn in someone else's war." Elizabeth stepped forward now, pushing gently past Nicholas's shoulder. Her voice was calm, but laced with iron. "Then stop circling and tell me the truth. Who are you?" The man tilted his head. "My name is Kade. I used to hunt things like Adrian. Until I realized there are worse things lurking in the dark — and he's only the beginning." Lilith's brow furrowed. "Hunter… as in witch hunter?" "Witch watcher," Kade corrected. "I wasn't there to destroy them. I was there to stop them from destroying themselves." He looked directly at Elizabeth again, this time with a strange softness.
"You've got more power than you were ever meant to carry. Adrian's trying to break the seals around you — the ones that were put there to protect everything else. And if he succeeds, you won't just wake up as a witch. You'll wake up as something older. Something the rest of us thought was lost." A sharp silence filled the room. Nicholas's fists clenched at his sides. "You speak like you know her destiny. Like it's already written." Kade didn't blink. "Because it is." Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat. Lilith stepped forward now, protective and fiery. "She's not some prophecy. She's not some bomb waiting to explode. She's Elizabeth. And she gets to decide who she is." Kade looked between them — the vampire bristling with threat, the witch glowing with defiance, and the girl standing at the eye of the storm. "I hope you're right," he said quietly. "Because the longer you pretend this is just about you, the closer Adrian gets to unlocking the door no one's supposed to open." Then he turned toward the exit, pausing only once. "When you're ready to hear the rest, I'll be in the shadows. Watching. Waiting. Just like the things that are coming for you." The door clicked shut behind him — no magic, no flourish. Just the quiet, haunting exit of someone who hadn't lied… but had revealed far too little.
Elizabeth's knees nearly gave. Nicholas caught her before she could fall. Lilith exhaled hard, voice taut with emotion. "Well, that was subtle." Elizabeth looked at the door, her heart pounding. "He knew things I haven't even dreamed yet," she whispered. "How does he know what I am… when I don't?" Nicholas's grip on her tightened protectively. "Then we stop waiting for people like him or Adrian to tell you. We find out ourselves." Lilith's eyes flared with determination. "And we start now." The mirror cracked as his hand struck the edge of the vanity — again. A fine line of blood welled at his knuckles, but Adrian didn't even glance at it. Pain was just noise. It barely registered anymore. Not when everything else was slipping so delicately, so dangerously, out of his grip. He paced the length of the private room tucked beneath the old chapel, the flicker of candlelight catching the glint of warding runes etched into every stone. "She's accelerating too fast," he muttered to himself, voice low and tense. "Something's changed. Someone's helping her." He turned sharply, hands braced against the altar at the center of the room — one not used for prayers, but for something far older. Rituals. Blood work. Shadow summoning. His fingers curled against the dark oak. It should've been simple. Draw her in. Chip away at the seal. Make her trust him just enough that when the final thread snapped — she would willingly hand herself over. The magic buried inside her was ancient, feral, wild. And if he could control it…
Adrian smiled to himself, slow and bitter. He would be untouchable. But now… Now, Kade was in play. He growled softly, the name searing across his thoughts like poison. Kade, the loyal little watchdog. The one who ran when things got too complicated. The one who refused to choose a side — but somehow always found a way to be in the way. "You just couldn't stay gone, could you?" He moved toward the spell circle in the center of the floor — a pale glow pulsing from its edges. The scrying basin still shimmered faintly with the residual magic of the last vision he'd called. Elizabeth. Sweating, exhausted, standing over a broken ring of sigils in her apartment. She was close. Closer than she even realized. The power was rising whether she welcomed it or not. All he needed was one final opening. One moment where her guard slipped, where she reached for him instead of the others. And he'd take everything. He pressed his bloodied hand to the basin's surface. The image rippled. Shifted. Focused. Nicholas Rivera. His expression was unreadable as always, that irritating mask of control never slipping. But Adrian could feel it — the threat, the possessiveness, the growing attachment. "Of course," Adrian sneered. "Of course he'd fall for her. She's exactly the kind of broken thing he thinks he can fix." The water shimmered again. A glimpse of Kade now, walking away from the apartment like a shadow retreating into mist. Adrian's jaw clenched. Fine. Let the vampire cling to hope. Let Kade whisper his cryptic warnings. None of it mattered in the end. Because Elizabeth was changing — and when the final seal broke, she wouldn't be the quiet girl with hesitant magic anymore. She'd be his. And then he'd show them all exactly what a goddess looked like when reborn in fire.
Elizabeth stood frozen in the center of the room long after Kade left. His words echoed in her ears like thunder rumbling from a faraway storm — still distant, but undeniable. "You won't just wake up as a witch. You'll wake up as something older." The walls of the apartment no longer felt like home. Not completely. Something had shifted — not just around her, but within her. Lilith gently touched her arm. "Hey. Earth to goddess girl. You okay?" Elizabeth blinked and turned, her throat tight. "No. Not really. But I don't think I can afford to fall apart right now." Nicholas nodded from the window, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. He had stayed quiet, but the muscles in his jaw had been tense the entire time. Watching. Thinking. Planning. "We need to get ahead of this," he said quietly. "Whatever Kade said — it's only a glimpse. You don't just wake up as something older without someone having known about it a long time ago." Lilith raised a brow. "You mean like someone in this room who might have been alive a few hundred years longer than the rest of us?" Nicholas shot her a dry look.
Elizabeth let out a shaky breath, and suddenly the idea of sitting felt necessary. She collapsed into the couch, her limbs heavy with magic and dread. "I just… I want to know. I want to remember something real. Not just what everyone else is telling me." Lilith sat beside her, curling her legs beneath her. "Then let's find your roots. All of them. And if that means digging into ancient bloodlines, forgotten covens, or mysterious enemies with cool cloaks, we're in." Elizabeth smiled faintly at that. "Cool cloaks do help." Nicholas walked to the bookshelf near the far wall. "There's a way," he said quietly. "A memory ritual. It's dangerous, but… if done correctly, it can unearth pieces of your lineage." Elizabeth looked up sharply. "Dangerous how?" "It opens your mind to the past — not just yours, but echoes tied to your blood. That includes pain. Fear. Death." Lilith hummed. "Sounds like Tuesday." Nicholas glanced at her, unimpressed. Elizabeth straightened. "Let's do it." Nicholas met her gaze. "Are you sure?" "No." She smiled faintly. "But I'm ready." A quiet beat passed between them. Nicholas finally gave a small nod. "We'll need a few things first. I'll start gathering. Lilith—" "I'll prep the warding circle. And snacks," Lilith added, already rising. "If we're cracking open ancient trauma, we're doing it with cinnamon rolls." Elizabeth watched them both — this strange little team that had become her anchor in the madness. And though her heart thudded with nerves, something else stirred beneath it. Resolve. Because she didn't know what she was waking up as. But she wasn't waking up alone.
The private archives beneath St. Eustace's Cathedral were not open to the public — or even to most of the supernatural community. They existed in whispers, maintained by an ancient order of keepers too old to care for politics, and too powerful to be destroyed. Nicholas had paid dearly for access. In blood, favors, and silence. Now, he moved through the stone corridors with reverence, his coat trailing behind him like a shadow. Time felt different here. Slower. Older. The air held the scent of wax, parchment, and something far more elusive — the scent of memory. He stopped at a heavy door bound in iron and silver, placing his palm to the seal. It flared briefly in blue flame. Then opened. Inside, candlelight pooled over endless rows of tomes, scrolls, and enchanted bindings. These were not ordinary histories. They were bloodlines. Soul-bound compendiums of magic, curses, and truths erased from surface knowledge. He moved quickly. Efficiently. His fingers trailed over spines labeled in languages long lost — until one caught him: "Linea Obscura: Bloodlines of the Unnamed Ones." He pulled it free.
The pages inside were brittle but humming with quiet magic. It didn't take long before a familiar symbol drew his attention — a crude, hand-inked version of the sigil that Elizabeth had accidentally burned into the table during one of her earliest surges of magic. Nicholas's breath caught. The symbol belonged to the Thrice-Bound Line. A bloodline believed extinct. One created not just from witches, but from a forbidden convergence — a union of old fae magic and celestial blood, cast into human form to anchor reality. They had once been guardians of thresholds. Dreamwalkers. Weavers of fate. And Elizabeth… if she truly bore this mark… His thoughts spiraled, mind racing through every strange flicker he'd seen in her — the dream tethering, the surges of uncontrollable power, the way Adrian hovered around her like a moth to flame. Nicholas turned the page.
"When awakened, the Thrice-Bound may tear the veil as easily as breath. It is not power alone they wield, but inevitability." The warning at the bottom was nearly illegible, faded with time and intentionally blurred by magic. He squinted. "One who awakens them must be prepared… to lose them." He closed the book slowly, his jaw tight. This wasn't just about unlocking Elizabeth's power. This was about who — or what — she was always meant to become. And the more she awoke, the more the universe would shift around her. People like Adrian wouldn't just want her power. They'd want her loyalty. Her soul. Nicholas placed the book in his satchel and left the archive without a word, the echo of his footsteps devoured by the quiet. Whatever was coming, it wasn't just a battle for magic. It was a war for her.