Chapter 3

Freya moved through the building, her footsteps echoing down the hallway as the murmur of female voices filled the halls. She entered a small dorm room with two beds, spotting a blonde lady sitting cross-legged on one of the beds.

"Hey, roomie," Freya called out casually, setting her bag down on her bed.

The blonde, Emily, barely glanced up, her fingers tightening around the edge of her pillow. "I saw you with Logan," she said coldly. "What the hell were you doing with my boyfriend?"

Freya sighed and frowned, recalling her conversation with him as she turned to face her. "Emily, we were just talking. Nothing else."

Emily got up from the bed and took a step closer. "Then why did he break up with me right after your little chat?"

A tense silence stretched between them.

"What?" Freya's eyes widened in shock, her brows knitting together. "I never told him anything. I swear. I even made it clear I would never be with him. You have to believe me."

But Emily wasn't listening.

Her hand slipped behind her back, and when it reappeared, a glint of silver shone under the dim light.

A knife.

Freya's breath hitched as the cold blade pressed against her throat.

Emily's lips curled into a twisted smile. But suddenly her smile faltered.

Her expression shifted from malice to terror. Her hands trembled as her eyes widened.

"What... what are you?" Emily whispered, stumbling backwards.

A low, guttural growl filled the room. Freya didn't move, but the air around her seemed to shift. Emily barely made it two steps before an invisible force slashed across her throat, long, jagged claw marks appearing out of nowhere. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the bed, clutching her neck. Red spilt between her fingers, glistening under the dim light. Blood pooled around her as she gasped for breath.

Freya's breath came in quick gasps. The room blurred, the scene dissolving like ink in water.

Her eyes widened.

And then she woke up.

She jolted upright, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her skin was clammy with sweat, her heart hammering against her ribs.

Frantically, she looked around.

She wasn't in that room. There was no blood. No, Emily.

She was safe.

She was in her grandfather's house.

A dream. Just a dream.

But why did it feel so real?

Her fingers curled into the sheets, trying to steady herself. But the phantom scent of blood still lingered in the back of her mind.

"Good morning," Jeffery greeted as he walked into the bedroom, holding a steaming cup of coffee.

Freya sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Good morning, Gramps." She took the cup he handed her, the warmth seeping into her palms. "How did I get here?"

"Dominic brought you home," Jeffery said, sitting at the edge of her bed. "He said you were attacked in the ladies' bathroom by some lunatic."

Freya exhaled. "Yeah... he was crazy. Really crazy and terrifying. He kept demanding that I cast some magic spell with a scented candle." She scoffed. "Tempus verto, vita ad infans, as if magic were real."

Jeffery chuckled. "Magic? Now, that's as fake as it gets."

Freya laughed, shaking her head. "A world with magic would be way too dangerous, Gramps."

Jeffery gave her a knowing smile before taking a sip from his own coffee. "Well, today, you're going to freshen up, and then you're going to tell me everything, including these nightmares you've been having."

Freya nodded slowly. She wanted to talk about it, to make sense of it all.

The nightmare of the creature, the thing that had killed her roommate, her friend. The way it had threatened her.

But what haunted her the most wasn't just the attack.

It was the fact that she was still alive.

Why hadn't it killed her, too?

And how had it even gotten inside the female dorm in the first place?

Was she losing her mind? Had she imagined it all?

Or was there something far worse at play?

***

Dominic and Elena entered the enchanted manor. Murals of lost legends shifted, their figures whispering secrets to those who listened. The air was thick with the scent of magic roses, their petals glowing softly in the candlelight.

Bodyguards lined the entrance, their presence a silent reminder of who ruled the manor.

As they moved further inside, a tall, slender woman descended the staircase, her floral dress flowing elegantly around her.

"Welcome," she spoke with authority.

Elena sighed under her breath. "She lied to get me here," she muttered.

Dominic cast her a warning glance before forcing a polite smile.

"Athena," he greeted, knowing full well how much she adored hearing her name spoken with reverence.

Athena sauntered toward them, hugging Elena briefly before pressing a kiss to her cheek. "How are you, my darling?"

Elena's lips curled into a tight smile. "Always wonderful, Mum, because I'm far away from you."

Athena chuckled, unfazed. Her gaze shifted to Dominic. "So, you finally convinced my daughter to visit."

Dominic kept his expression neutral. "She makes her own decision."

Elena crossed her arms. "No, Mum. It's not Dominic's fault I don't want to be here. And you lied about being sick. What if one day you really fall ill, and I think it's just another one of your tricks?"

Athena sighed dramatically, taking Elena's hand in hers. "Forgive me, my love," she said smoothly before pulling her away from Dominic.

"Follow us, Dominic," she added over her shoulder, her tone making it clear it wasn't a request.

Dominic followed them into the grand dining room, where an extravagant table was set with an overwhelming spread of delicacies.

"Why don't we fill our little big stomachs?" Athena said with a smirk, pulling out a chair for Elena.

Elena sighed but sat, and Dominic took the seat beside her. His gaze swept over the table. Raw slabs of animal meat, fresh and glistening under the chandelier's golden light. His stomach twisted.

Ever since his father's death, he had distanced himself from raw meat, from anything that reminded him of blood.

Elena let out an exasperated breath. "Why do you always do this, Mother? You know Dominic doesn't eat raw meat. He prefers his food cooked."

Athena gasped, placing a dramatic hand over her mouth. "Oops! My deepest apologies. I'll have the maid prepare something more... civilized for you."

Dominic shook his head. "No, I'll just have the rice."

Elena turned to him, concern flickering in her eyes. "Are you sure? If you want to leave, just say the word."

"Elena!" Athena snapped, her voice laced with reprimand.

Elena spun toward her mother. "Shush," she hissed, then turned back to Dominic.

He chuckled, brushing a kiss against her lips. "You deserve to spend time with your mother, babe."

Elena softened, cupping his cheek. "Thank you."

Just then, a maid approached, carefully placing a crystal glass before them.

"Here comes the lovely wine," Athena announced. "Blood Moon."

Elena's face clouded with anger as she cast a piercing glare at her mother.