Chapter 8
473words
Elder Whitehawk had retired to consult the ancient texts. The formal investigation would begin at dawn.
But I wasn't finished. Not yet.
As Ethan helped Cassandra toward the manor—her performance of traumatized innocence still flawless—I called out softly.
"Cassandra."
She turned, her tear-streaked face the picture of wounded vulnerability.
I smiled, letting a hint of something predatory show through.
"Some bonds aren't as permanent as they appear," I said, my voice carrying clearly in the evening air. "And stolen power always demands its price. It will consume you from within, piece by piece, until there's nothing left."
Her face went chalk white.
"What are you talking about?" Ethan demanded, stepping protectively in front of her.
But Cassandra knew exactly what I meant. I could see it in her eyes—the first flicker of real fear.
"Sweet dreams, Cassandra," I said, turning away. "Enjoy them while you can."
As I walked back toward Moonlight Manor, with Damon's steady presence beside me, the memories of my previous life stirred.
Cassandra's death in that timeline had been sudden and mysterious. Three months into her supposed happy ending with Ethan, the stolen magic had turned inward, consuming her from within.
Stolen power always carried a curse.
In my previous life, I had tried to help her, researching ways to break the magical bonds safely. But when Ethan found me conducting spirit realm rituals with Cassandra's belongings, he assumed I was using dark magic against her.
He never listened to my explanations. From that moment forward, he had been convinced I was responsible for her death.
"You're thinking about the past," Damon said quietly as we reached the manor steps.
I looked up at him, struck again by how clearly he seemed to see through me.
"How do you know?"
"Your eyes," he said simply. "They get distant. Like you're seeing something the rest of us can't."
I almost smiled at his perceptiveness.
"What would you say if I told you I've seen all this before? In dreams, visions..."
"I'd say that explains a lot," he replied without hesitation. "The way you've been moving through all of this like you know exactly what's coming next."
He paused at the entrance, his dark eyes serious.
"The question is—are you trying to change the outcome, or just positioning yourself to survive it better this time?"
I looked back toward the Recognition Stone, where Ethan and Cassandra had disappeared into Shadowfang territory.
"Both," I said finally. "But mostly, I'm done being the victim in someone else's story."
Damon's smile was sharp as winter steel.
"Good," he said. "Because tomorrow, we start writing a new one."
And this was only the beginning of what I would take back.
