Rhylie’s POV
I could feel the deaf silence of the witches’ chamber leaving a cold, unsettling feeling in my stomach. The voice, the one that whispered through the darkness, hadn’t been part of the spell. It was something else, something ancient and far more dangerous than I had anticipated.
I took a shaky breath, staring at the altar in front of me, the blinking candlelight. My hands trembled as I gripped the edge of the table, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.
“What was that?” I whispered to myself, feeling the pulse of magic still lingering in the air. The ritual had been interrupted, but the dark magic was still moving around me, suffocating, waiting for me to make a decision.
I glanced down at the book in front of me, the forbidden spell I had begun still open, the blood from my earlier incantation drying on the page. My mind was racing, fear battling with my desperate need to keep Zane. The voice had been a warning, one I should have heeded, but I couldn’t afford to stop now.
