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Yet, Evan stared at it, he felt an uncomfortable tug in his chest, making his brows stitch together. A strong, almost physical urge to pull that nail out stirred within him.

Impulsive thoughts?

Evan reached up, intending to try and pull it out. There was no resentment or malice on the nail, so it definitely didn’t contain a spirit inside the tree. But as soon as his hand wrapped around the protruding shaft of the nail, Evan stilled.

The nail was warm. Too warm. As if its other end was sitting in a pot of boiling water. As if it was alive.

Evan blinked in bewilderment then glanced at his hand holding the nail as wetness gathered at his fingertips.

A dark trail of red oozed from the nail, trickling down his hand and drenching the sleeve of his hoodie. A metallic scent pierced his nostrils.

With a curse, Evan jerked back but when he tried to wrench his hand away, he couldn’t. He gripped his arm with his free hand and tried to pry it off the bloody nail but it wouldn’t budge.

His fingers were glued around the iron shaft.

To his horror, that trail of blood was moving unnaturally up his arm. Like a bloody worm, it slithered across his shoulder, his collarbone, heading towards his chest.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Panic and dread turned his insides to mush. Evan whipped his head around, trying to find something to grab onto and yank his hand away from the nail.

But when his eyes landed on a figure crouched outside the perimeter of the oak, he paused.

Mila rocked on her heels, hugging her knees with a mad gleam in her eyes. “They said if I brought him, they would give me back my husband… Give me back my husband… My husband…”

Realization dawned on Evan, albeit a little too late.

Thehimshe was referring to was none other than Evan himself. And she had lured him to the oak. It wasn’t Evan who sought out Mila, but the other way around. But how had she known that Evan would come to the woods?

A figure flashed behind her, so swift it was all but a blur. It wasn’t until a hand pierced the back of Mila’s neck and out through the front, that his presence was registered.

Mila’s grin froze, her cackle reduced to a bloody gurgle.

Evan’s breath hitched.

The figure in red pulled his hand out of Mila’s neck, leaving behind a gaping hole overflowing with blood. As Mila’s corpse tumbled to the side, Xen straightened, eyes cold, remorseless.

Evan gaped at him, unsure whether he was looking at the real Xen or a poorly crafted illusion of him. “Xen…?”

Dark eyes rose to meet Evan’s but Xen didn’t step closer. Heavy demonic energy wafted off him like black steam as he reached forward with his bloody hand and pressed his palm against the air, against an invisible wall. When he lowered his hand, there was a bloody handprint left on the transparent barrier erected around the oak.

Xen couldn’t break into it.

Evan’s eyes widened when he realized he was trapped inside. But before he could rake his brain for a way out, a prickling sting stirred in Evan’s chest.

One hand still stuck to the nail, he pulled the neck of his hoodie away, staring down at his chest.

The bloody worm stopped right over his heart. Its liquid tip hardened, elongating into a fine needlepoint. Before he could react, the needle pierced into Evan’s chest.

“No, no, no—” he clutched his arm tight, intending to block the blood flow but to no avail. More blood oozed from the rusted nail, trickled down the body of the bloody worm, and pumped the dark liquid directly into his heart.

As soon as the blood flowed into his body, Evan hunched over with a scream, clawing at his chest.

Hot. It was hot. Too hot.

Itburned.

Molten lava dripped into his veins, boiling his blood, and desecrating his organs. Someone screamed. Maybe it was him, or maybe Xen. Evan couldn’t tell.