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POV Claire
The moment I realized the other presence was her, I tried to break free.
But it was impossible.
It was as if my body no longer belonged to me.
Paralyzed.
Locked.
I should have been more careful.
I knew my powers were unstable.
And yet, I took the risk.
And now someone else was going to pay for it.
I had overestimated myself.
"This is getting more and more interesting…"
Killian watched me like a puzzle.
"What are you up to now?" the entity growled, irritated.
He let out a small laugh.
"Me? Nothing at all.
I'm just observing a phenomenon… a very unexpected one."
He tilted his head slightly.
"And I think you're going to love it."
"I highly doubt that. Now finish her, if you don't want me to take that pleasure from you."
Killian sighed as if his evening had just been ruined.
"Always so impatient.
You should learn to savor the moment."
His gaze slid back to me.
"Some discoveries deserve a little attention."
They were talking about me.
As if I were nothing.
As if I were already dead.
And meanwhile… I could see through her.
Avery had just stepped out of her room.
A leather bag in her hand—heavy, I could feel its weight as if it were mine.
Every step she took down the stairs echoed through my chest.
I searched my memory desperately.
The words from the book.
The spell.
But Mom had interrupted my reading.
I didn't have the rest.
I had nothing.
I really had acted like an idiot this time.
Then I saw Avery pull something out of the bag.
A small notebook.
My attention lingered on it for one second too long.
Mistake.
A hand grabbed my throat.
And this time—
there was no softness left.
No game.
The air was ripped from my lungs in one sharp motion.
I tried to tear his fingers away from my throat, but his strength was unreal.
The world cracked.
I saw the room.
I saw him.
I saw Avery.
The connection screamed between us.
She felt everything.
Her body tensed to the extreme, her hands raised in front of her as if she could reach the one strangling me.
Through her eyes, I saw a man appear in front of her, panicked.
Jackson followed right behind him.
I wanted to scream.
To warn them.
To ask for help.
But the pressure increased.
Tightened.
Killian almost murmured to himself:
"I knew it…"
His eyes shone with a dangerously curious light.
"Do you see this?"
He glanced back toward the mist.
"Because I find this… absolutely fascinating."
The mist vibrated.
"ENOUGH!"
Killian smiled faintly.
"Oh, come on…
We were just starting to have fun."
My body was giving out.
A sharp pain pierced my chest.
My vision went white.
Killian leaned closer to me.
Very close.
His lips brushed against my ear.
He was speaking.
I could see him.
But I couldn't hear anything anymore.
Then—
the pressure vanished.
All at once.
I collapsed.
My knees hit the ground.
Air rushed back into my lungs like fire.
---
Killian was on the ground too.
As if he had been thrown.
Pushed back by an invisible force.
The mist behind him tightened, irritated.
I was on my knees, unable to regain a normal rhythm.
My throat burned.
My hands trembled.
I looked up.
He wasn't hurt.
Just surprised.
Then, slowly—
He ran a hand through his hair.
Then he looked at me.
And smiled.
"Well…
I didn't see that coming."
He kept smiling.
Not amused.
Not cruel.
Fascinated.
He stood up without rushing.
As if what had just happened confirmed something he had suspected.
His eyes never left me.
But it wasn't the gaze of a predator anymore.
It was the gaze of a player who had just understood a new rule.
The mist pulsed behind him.
"I don't care what just happened. Finish it."
Killian tilted his head.
But he didn't attack me.
Instead, he stepped closer.
Crouched in front of me.
I didn't have the strength to move anymore.
"It's not necessary anymore…"
His breath brushed against my skin.
"She's not there anymore," he said quietly.
My heart stuttered.
What did that mean?
What do you mean I'm not there anymore?
Suddenly, the room cracked.
Like glass.
The light turned blindingly white.
His voice was the last thing I perceived.
Then everything disappeared.
And I woke up with a start in my mother's arms.
---
As soon as air properly filled my lungs again, I pushed myself up.
The first thing I did was look around.
Stone. Dampness. Candles. The circle.
The basement.
A violent relief washed through me—almost painful.
A long breath escaped me, closer to a sob.
They were all there.
Their faces leaning over me. Shocked. Worried. Terrified.
Alive.
I tried to speak, but a sharp pain pulled at my throat.
I brought my hands to my neck.
The sensation was still there.
His fingers.
Like a mark my skin refused to forget.
This wasn't a dream.
It was a warning.
My mother's arms wrapped around me.
She was trembling almost as much as I was.
Her embrace—warm, real—broke something inside my chest.
I had come close to death.
And without realizing it, I clung to her, trying to convince myself that I was still here.
That I had come back.
Behind her, I saw the others.
Grandfather. Still. Serious.
And my father.
I thought I saw relief in his eyes.
That detail unsettled me more than anything else.
Me—who had always been his greatest disappointment.
Grandfather gently placed a hand on my mother's shoulder.
He ended the embrace with unexpected softness.
Then crouched down beside me.
"Glad to have you back with us, my dear."
I gave him a fragile smile.
Tired. Grateful.
His gaze lingered on my neck for one second too long.
It hardened.
He knew.
"Now you must rest," he said.
His voice wasn't a suggestion.
It was an order.
And deep down, I understood something terrible.
They had all felt something.
Tonight…
it wasn't just me who had been found.
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