Page 29 of Allie

"Here," Grant pointed to a passage marked with an ominous sigil, his finger tracing the lines. "This references someone interfering with their plans. It could be Doyle—maybe he bit off more than he could chew."

"Or maybe he tried to double-cross them," I mused, the idea setting off alarm bells in my head. "And they silenced him before he could expose anything."

"Whatever it is, it's motive enough for murder," Draven concluded grimly.

"Looks like we're dealing with a darker web than we thought," Roan said, his tone edged with concern.

I shuffled through the papers, squinting at the spidery text that seemed to dance before my eyes. The symbols were like a secret handshake I wasn't privy to, but the tension in the room told me we were standing on the precipice of something big—something dangerous.

"Guys, look at this." Asa's voice was low and urgent as he spread a map across the coffee table, his fingers tapping on a series of marked locations. "These spots coincide with where the cult's been most active. And this," he said, pointing to a particular mark, "is where Doyle lived."

Grant studied the detailed sketches Asa drew at some point sprawled among the documents, pausing on one in particular—a face drawn with haunting precision.

"Wait," he breathed out, his hand trembling slightly as he picked up the drawing. "I know this man. He's no mere foot soldier; he's one of the higher-ups. If Doyle crossed him..."

"Then he signed his own death warrant," Draven finished, his expression grim.

Roan had left to grab the cult journal with the symbol on it from his apartment. He had it to try to see if he could open it. But Draven had the idea of trying to break the spell on the book again, but this time he would help me. Being half witch, he had magic inside him and could help boost my own.

I hoped it worked.

Roan returned and placed the journal in the middle of the coffee table. I knelt on my knees in front of it and stared down at the book.

"Be careful, Allie," Draven said as he sat on the couch directly behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders. Instantly, I felt his magic touch mine.

Roan's intense gaze stayed fixed on me, worry etched into the tight line of his mouth. Asa shuffled closer. And Grant... well, Grant watched me like I was a puzzle he couldn't solve, fascination mixed with a hint of something warmer.

"Here goes nothing," I muttered, and closed my eyes, reaching inward to the glowing core of my magic. It responded eagerly, a spark ready to blaze into life at my command. Draven’s magic was right there and responded to me like a childhood BFF.

I laid my palms flat against the leather cover of the book, whispering an incantation. A soft, golden glow seeped from my skin, enveloping the journal in a delicate halo of light. For a moment, everything was calm.

Then, without warning, the book erupted. Dark energy surged upward, clashing with my light in a violent storm of power. It was like being caught in a tug-of-war between day and night.

"Shit!" I gasped, trying to retract my hands, but the dark force was relentless. It clawed at my magic, engulfing me in its chilling embrace.

"Fight it, Allie!" Asa shouted, though his voice sounded distant, muffled by the cacophony of magic at war.

My heart thundered in my chest, beating a frenetic rhythm as I battled the darkness. But it was strong, so damn strong, and I felt myself slipping, my own powers waning under the assault.

"Stay with us, Allie!" Roan barked, his voice laced with undisguised fear.

I wanted to answer, to assure them I had this under control, but the words were trapped behind my lips, prisoners of the struggle to consume me.

A final, desperate push, a scream tearing from my throat, and then... darkness.

* * *

Voices,gentle and urgent, coaxed me back to consciousness. My eyelids fluttered open, revealing the hazy outlines of four worried faces hovering over me.

"Easy, love." Draven's voice was a soothing balm. "You gave us quite the scare."

"Never do that again," Asa scolded, but the quiver in his voice betrayed his relief.

“I second that,” Roan said.

Grant reached out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear with a tenderness that made my pulse quicken. "You're one hell of a witch, you know that?"

I managed a weak smile, their presence wrapping around me like a warm blanket. I was drained, sure, but never had I felt more loved, more fiercely protected.