Chapter 37: The Possession of Aiden Cross

Ivy’s breath caught as the shadow stepped fully into the room.

Aiden.

But… not Aiden.

His face was familiar, every angle etched into her memory—the high cheekbones, the scar beneath his jawline from their teenage misadventures, the stormy grey eyes that once softened only for her.

But now, those eyes blazed with a golden fire that didn’t belong to him.

It belonged to her.

Isolde.

Killian stepped in front of Ivy and the baby instinctively, shielding them both. His eyes narrowed, voice low and deadly.

“What the hell did you do to him?”

Aiden—or rather, Isolde—tilted his head, a smile curving his lips. “I warned you, didn’t I? You thought you could delay the inevitable by destroying the mirror. But I always leave myself a backdoor.”

He flicked his wrist, and Mira’s protective runes dissolved like smoke in the air.

The baby whimpered, the glow in her eyes dimming as the room grew colder.

“Stay away,” Ivy whispered, cradling her daughter closer. “You won’t touch her.”

“Touch her?” Isolde chuckled, Aiden’s voice laced with something otherworldly. “Oh, Ivy. She and I are already linked. I made sure of that the moment you invited me in. She carries my essence. My soul sings in her blood.”

“No,” Ivy hissed, rising shakily to her feet, defying the pain. “You may have touched her soul, but you’ll never own it.”

Mira stepped between them, clutching a new talisman.

“This house is still warded,” she said through clenched teeth. “You may have slipped through a crack, but you’re still vulnerable.”

“Am I?” Isolde sneered, raising Aiden’s hand. A dark pulse of energy knocked Mira back into the wall. Her head hit with a sickening thud, and she slid to the floor unconscious.

“No!” Ivy cried out.

Killian didn’t wait. He lunged at Aiden, punching him hard enough to snap his head to the side—but Isolde barely flinched.

“You really think fists can defeat me?” she said with Aiden’s lips. “This body is stronger than the last one I shared. And he welcomed me.”

“What?” Ivy whispered, horror dawning.

Isolde turned her gaze to her.

“Yes. Your precious Aiden gave me permission. He was broken, Ivy. You left him shattered. He needed purpose. I gave him one.”

Killian gritted his teeth. “He wouldn’t. He hated you—what you did to Ivy—”

“Oh, he hated you more,” Isolde interrupted. “He always did. He watched you take everything. The glory. The girl. The child.”

Killian lunged again, but this time Aiden blocked it effortlessly, sending him crashing into a bookshelf.

Ivy stood frozen, clutching her baby, whose eyes now flickered weakly, like a dimming star.

“Stop it,” Ivy whispered, her voice rising. “You said she’s the vessel. You need her. Then why are you hurting her?”

Isolde paused.

A moment of stillness.

Then… a smile.

“You’re right.”

She extended her hand. “Give her to me, Ivy. Willingly. And I promise—you’ll survive.”

Ivy’s knees buckled.

Her heart screamed.

Her mind raced.

And then she looked down into her daughter’s glowing eyes—so innocent, so pure, so filled with knowledge too ancient for a newborn.

“No,” Ivy said.

“I won’t.”

Just as Isolde’s expression twisted with fury, Isla burst through the side door.

She wasn’t alone.

Behind her were the surviving members of the ancient Ardent Circle—cloaked witches and seers, bound to Mira’s bloodline, their palms glowing with magic and runes etched across their faces.

“You came?” Ivy asked, shocked.

“I don’t break my word,” Isla said sharply, though her gaze betrayed a flicker of concern. “Besides, I want my niece alive.”

The room exploded into magical chaos.

Spells flew.

Energy rippled.

Isolde, in Aiden’s body, fought with a savagery unmatched—lashing out with blasts of dark light, summoning illusions, bending shadows like weapons.

Killian, bruised but unbroken, guarded Ivy and the child, shielding them with everything he had left.

Isla’s hands bled as she and the Circle formed the Seal of Unbinding—a ritual that could expel Isolde from any vessel if completed in full.

But it required time.

Time they didn’t have.

Isolde broke through the circle, sending two witches flying across the room. One hit the fireplace and didn’t move.

“Finish the chant!” Isla screamed.

“Ivy!” Killian shouted. “We need the baby! She’s the key!”

Ivy looked down—her daughter’s hands were glowing.

The baby, barely hours old, was chanting in a language that didn’t exist.

Reality warped.

Time slowed.

Everyone froze—except Ivy and her child.

In this bubble of suspended time, a figure appeared.

Not Isolde.

Not Mira.

Not Isla.

But Aiden.

The real Aiden.

He stood across from Ivy, transparent, eyes sorrowful.

“I didn’t mean to betray you,” he said softly. “She promised me I could protect you. That I could be part of your world again.”

“You let her in,” Ivy whispered, tears rising.

“I did,” he said, voice thick. “But I didn’t know she’d take over. I thought… I thought I could control her.”

He looked at the baby.

“She’s everything, isn’t she?”

“She is,” Ivy said. “And now I need your help.”

Aiden nodded.

“When this ends… I’ll be gone.”

Ivy bit her lip. “Not to me.”

He stepped forward, pressed a spectral kiss to the baby’s forehead.

Then vanished.

Time resumed.

And Isolde screamed.

Because the baby opened her mouth—

And roared.

The baby’s cry wasn’t human.

It was power.

It shattered what remained of the protective spells, the walls, the chandelier. Every mirror in the house exploded. The floor cracked.

Isolde screamed in agony as golden light poured from her—the pure essence of the child expelling her presence from Aiden’s body.

The air grew thick with the scent of burning magic.

Then—

Aiden’s body collapsed, unconscious.

The light vanished.

Silence.

Smoke rose in gentle tendrils.

The Circle was gone.

Only Isla, Ivy, Killian, the baby, and the limp form of Aiden remained.

Mira stirred, bruised but breathing.

The danger had passed… for now.

But the silence was deceptive.

As dawn broke, Ivy sat with her baby in her arms, staring at Aiden’s unmoving body.

Killian watched her from across the room, uncertain.

“He saved us,” Ivy whispered. “In the end.”

Killian didn’t respond.

Outside, the sky had cleared.

But Isla wasn’t watching the sunrise.

She was looking at the baby.

Her eyes narrowed.

“She expelled Isolde,” Isla said. “But she absorbed part of her too. I saw it.”

“What are you saying?” Killian asked.

“I’m saying…” Isla paused, her voice dropping. “Your daughter might not be just a weapon against Isolde. She may be her reincarnation.”

And as if confirming the unthinkable…

The baby looked at them—

And smiled.