Chapter 20 - The Final Whisper

The rain fell in relentless sheets, turning the cobblestone paths of Blackthorn 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒈𝒆 into slick ribbons of reflected lamplight. Lila pulled her hood tighter around her face, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she darted between the shadows of the Gothic arches. The whispers had followed her again—soft, insistent, like the brush of fingers against her spine.

*"You can't hide from us, little 𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒏."*

She clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms. *Not real. Not real.* But the voice was too familiar, too much like *his*.

A hand clamped over her mouth, yanking her into the alcove of a stone pillar. Lila thrashed, panic surging—until she caught the scent of cedar and ink.

"Easy," Elias murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "They're close."

She stilled, her pulse hammering against his palm. His grip loosened, but he didn't let go entirely, as if afraid she'd bolt. The irony wasn't lost on her—Elias, the one person she'd spent months avoiding, was now the only one standing between her and whatever lurked in the storm.

"Who are *they*?" she whispered, her voice raw.

His golden eyes flickered, the faintest glow beneath the shadows of his lashes. "You already know."

The truth settled like a stone in her gut. The Veiled. The ones who'd been watching her since the first night she'd wandered into the old library and found *him*—the spectral figure with Elias's face but none of his warmth. The one who'd called her *his*.

A gust of wind howled through the courtyard, carrying the sound of laughter—sharp, mocking. Lila shivered. "They want me to open the gate, don't they?"

Elias exhaled, his thumb brushing her cheek in a fleeting touch. "And you're the only one who can."

---

The attic of the abandoned dormitory smelled of dust and old magic. Lila traced the symbols carved into the floorboards, her fingers trembling. The ritual circle was nearly complete, the final lines drawn in Elias's blood. He knelt across from her, his sleeves rolled up to reveal the fresh cuts along his forearms.

"You don't have to do this," he said quietly.

She met his gaze. "Then who will?"

The question hung between them, heavy with the weight of the unspoken. Elias had spent years keeping the Veiled at bay, binding himself to the college's cursed grounds to keep them from spilling into the world. But the wards were failing. And Lila—with her moonlit heart, her blood singing with the same power that had once sealed the gate—was the key.

A crash echoed from below. The door splintered, the sound of footsteps thundering up the stairs.

"They're here," Elias hissed, rising to his feet.

Lila's heart pounded. The final symbol—a crescent moon—was still missing. She pressed her palm to the center of the circle, the wood biting into her skin. "Tell me what to do."

Elias's hand closed over hers. "Say the words."

She swallowed hard, the ancient syllables rising unbidden to her lips. The air hummed, the circle flaring to life in a blaze of silver light. The door burst open, revealing figures cloaked in shadow—their faces shifting, never quite solid.

The leader stepped forward, his voice a chorus of whispers. *"You were always meant to be ours."*

Elias moved in front of her, his body tensed for a fight. "She's not yours."

Lila's vision blurred as the magic surged, the gate shuddering open behind her. The Veiled lunged—but the light erupted, swallowing them whole. The last thing she saw was Elias turning to her, his expression torn between relief and sorrow, before the world went white.

---

Silence.

Lila gasped, her knees hitting the damp grass of the courtyard. The storm had passed, the moon hanging heavy and full above her. She was alone.

No—not quite.

A figure materialized from the mist, his steps slow, deliberate. Elias. But *different*. The glow in his eyes was gone, replaced by something darker. Something hungry.

"You did it," he said, his voice too smooth, too calm.

Her breath hitched. "Elias?"

He smiled, and the wrongness of it sent ice down her spine. "Not quite."

The realization struck like a blade. The gate hadn't just sealed the Veiled away.

It had let something else out.

And it was wearing Elias's face.