Thirteen

The heavy side doors of the cathedral crashed open, allowing Autumn to surge into the bitter cold of the night. Her breath emerged in sharp, frosty clouds, each exhale crisp in the frigid air. Just behind her, Tristan raced to keep up.

“Autumn—wait!” he called, his voice laced with urgency.

She whirled around to face him, fury and betrayal sparking in her hazel eyes. “You knew!”

“I didn’t agree to the announcement,” he replied, his tone defensive.

“But you knew they would do it!” She shouted, her words reverberating off the stone walls of the empty lot, starkly contrasting the stillness around them. “You let them bind me to you without my consent!”

Tristan clenched his jaw, frustration etched across his features. “The bond was already there. They only made it visible.”

“That doesn’t make it right!” she retorted, anger coursing through her veins.

An oppressive silence hung heavy in the air, thick with a mix of power and panic. Suddenly, a sinister whisper curled out of the shadows: “Run.”

Autumn’s heart raced, and she froze in place. “Did you hear that?” she demanded, her voice a tense whisper.

Tristan spun around, his sharp gaze scanning the darkened corners. “No,” he replied, a hint of unease creeping into his voice.

The shadows around them deepened, coiling on the ground like a cold, creeping fog. Then, without warning, the world seemed to blink out of existence.

Autumn found herself standing alone, disoriented. The sky above was an unsettling shade of violet, the moon completely absent. The stars twinkled not at all; they were dead—swallowed by the darkness.

Before her, a woman emerged from the swirling black mist. Her eyes glowed with an otherworldly intensity, twin voids that seemed to pull at the light around her. Her skin shimmered with a silvery-blue hue, reminiscent of a shattered mirror reflecting forgotten memories. She wore an ethereal veil spun from bone-white threads, and when she smiled, her mouth stretched unnaturally wide, filled with an unsettling hunger.

“Finally,” she purred, her voice dripping with malice. “We meet.”

“Mara,” Autumn gasped, recognizing the figure from her nightmares.

The woman let out a laugh, a chilling sound akin to wind rustling through ancient graves. “No. Not yet. But close.”

Autumn steeled herself, attempting to move, to conjure flames, or to call upon the ancient Book of spells. But nothing came forth; her powers felt distant and unreachable.

“You don’t belong here,” Autumn asserted defiantly, her voice steady despite the fear clawing at her insides.

“On the contrary,” Mara replied smoothly, gliding closer as if floating on the mist. “You’re the one trespassing in my sleep. Your blood beckoned me. It always does. You are not the first Veilwalker, Autumn. You’re simply the last.”

The pendant at Autumn's neck burned against her skin, a warning and a reminder of her lineage.

“I won’t become you,” she breathed, a fierce determination igniting within her.

“You already are,” Mara responded, her voice low and taunting.

With that, Autumn’s shriek shattered the haunting vision around her.

Suddenly, she was back on the road outside the cathedral, her knees digging into the snow beneath her. Tristan knelt beside her, his face pale, blood trickling from his nose.

“You dropped me,” she gasped, struggling to find her breath.

“I didn’t—” He hesitated, horror dawning on his features. “You disappeared, as if the veil had pulled you under.”

Autumn pushed herself up, her legs trembling beneath her. “We have to go. Now,” she insisted, urgency directing her words.

They hurried into the car, and as Tristan pulled onto the highway, the engine roared to life, cutting through the night’s silence. Autumn stared out into the dark, her mind racing.

“I saw her,” she finally said, her voice trembling. “I saw Mara.”

Tristan maintained a heavy silence for what felt like an eternity, the weight of her words hanging between them. Finally, he murmured, “We’ll need help.”

Once they arrived at the Mirabella Estate, Autumn stood before the ornate mirror in Maraya’s chamber, the glass glinting with an otherworldly light. She traced the delicate lines of her face, searching for a trace of the girl she once was. She still appeared like herself, but as she looked deeper, her reflection smiled first—wide, knowing, and altogether unnerving.