Narrator's POVGreendale was quiet that night, the kind of quiet that came before a storm. Clouds stretched across the moon, smothering its light, and the wind carried whispers only witches could hear.
Keiran felt it before anyone else — a shift in the air, a pressure, a wrongness sliding across his skin.
Keiran's POVHe walked a few paces behind Sabrina as she left Baxter High, arms full of books, chattering about a class project.
She didn't notice. But he did.The shadows were too thick. The night too still.
Father.
Keiran's jaw tightened. He recognized the touch of Hell's breath anywhere. This wasn't random. It was deliberate. A test.
He scanned the street, every nerve alight. "Sabrina," he said quietly. "Stay close."
She glanced back, frowning. "What's wrong?"
But she never got the chance to finish.
Narrator's POVThe ground cracked open in front of them with a roar, the asphalt splitting like paper. From the fissure crawled a figure made of flame and shadow, its eyes burning with infernal hunger.
A Hellhound of fire — one of Lucifer's oldest pets.
It snarled, smoke curling from its maw, teeth glinting like obsidian knives.
Sabrina's POVShe dropped her books, stumbling back as the monster crawled closer. Her heart hammered in her chest.
"What the hell is that?" she whispered.
Keiran stepped forward, his body a wall between her and the beast. His voice was low, steady, calm. "Something that should never have left Hell."
The hound roared, flames flaring high.
Keiran's POVHe wanted to unleash his angelic form, to rip this creature apart with divine fire and demonic strength combined. But he couldn't. Not here. Not now.
Not with Sabrina watching.
I can't reveal myself yet.
His hands lifted, magic sparking to life — witchcraft only. His mother's bloodline. The mortal mask he wore.
Runes flared in the air as he whispered a spell, a containment circle sparking around the hound. It fought, flames licking at the barrier, cracking it with every strike.
Keiran gritted his teeth. Damn it. Not strong enough. Not like this.
Sabrina's POVShe could see the strain in him — the way sweat beaded on his forehead, the flicker of magic burning dangerously close to breaking.
He wasn't like her aunts, chanting calmly. This was different. Fierce. Relentless.
"Keiran!" she cried, panicked. "What do we do?"
He didn't look back. His voice was steel. "Stay behind me."
Narrator's POVThe circle shattered. The hound lunged.
And Keiran moved faster than any witch should, catching the beast mid-leap, driving it back with raw force. His eyes glowed faintly, the barest slip of power from the angelic form he was desperate to keep buried.
For a heartbeat, Sabrina saw it. That shimmer. That otherness.
Then it was gone.
Keiran's POVHe whispered a killing word — ancient, forbidden. Light burst from his palm, piercing through the hound's skull.
The creature shrieked, flames collapsing in on themselves, until nothing was left but ash.
The street was silent again.
Keiran exhaled slowly, forcing his power back down, back into its cage. His heart thundered in his chest. That was too close. Far too close.
Sabrina's POVShe stared at him, wide-eyed, trembling.
"Keiran…" she whispered. "What are you?"
For the first time since he'd arrived in her world, Keiran had no answer.