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“What the fuck do we do?” I bark.
Suddenly, she lets out a horrified scream, coming from the deepest, darkest depths of her chest. Her arms and legs start flailing in the air, her head whipping from side to side as she comes back to reality.
And then she crashes to the ground, her thin limbs knocking together. She scrambles onto her butt, crab walking away from us, looking disoriented. Heavy breaths leave her chest as she looks around frantically, as if she has no idea how she got here.
“What’s going on?” she cries out.
We stand there, speechless, as she spirals into a panic.
“What happened?” she screams, shoving to a stand. Her hands go to her head, and she pulls at her hair as her eyes widen, as if everything is coming back to her.
And whatever it is, isn’t good.
Holy shit.
Holy. Shit.
I can feel a panic attack coming on, and I grasp at my chest as horror clutches my insides. It’s as if I’m doused in icy flames, and I can’t stop the goosebumps that come on so quickly they’re nearly painful.
“Hazel, what the fuck is going on?” Felix growls, entering my space. He calms me and makes me feel crazier at the same time.
I turn to him, feeling a darkness rip through the woods behind him. Whatever is back there is coming for me, I know it is. I refuse, though I can feel my soul tearing in two, between falling into this darkness and staying in the light, where I belong.
No. I refuse.
Spinning on my feet, I race as quickly as I can, my lungs seizing in my chest as I pant out panicked breaths. I bound through the open door, slamming it behind me, even though I can feel the guys hot on my tail.
The door bursts open again a moment later, and I hear a beeping before the obnoxious alarm turns off. I’m already on my way up the stairs, though. No destination in mind, only the promise of escape.
“Hazel, wait up!” Felix barks at me, their feet stampeding behind me.
This is all my fault.
Shame burrows in my gut and creates its own residence. If I would’ve stuck with my initial plan, none of this would’ve happened, but I couldn’t help myself. Maybe my grandmother was right…
I can’t handle witchcraft. My soul is too dark.
It started last year when I played with the Ouija board. It was in my house not to play with, but to protect the evil within it. My grandmother stored it at our house and knew it would be safe there, only it wasn’t.
Then I did magic with the girls two years ago to harm Malik. The dark witchcraft was nothing I’ve ever been taught, but something I never should’ve tapped into.
After everything happened with Malik, I put it all away, not wanting to uncover that darker part of myself. My grandmother saw it in me, and she knew if I continued down the path I was on, I wouldn’t have been able to come back from it. I would’ve lost myself, and only death would’ve saved me. There is no exorcism when it comes to dark magic. When you have blood like I do, the evil lives inside of you; it doesn’t come into you.
I thought it would all be okay, until we opened the portal.
Asking my grandmother and mother the other day about me starting magic was just the first piece. I pondered it over the last couple of days, the small pull inside of me heavy and constant, something I couldn’t stop thinking about. I want to use magic for good. I want to be like my family and heal, help, and create.
So, I opened my closet and took out my things in my locked chest, putting them in my backpack, and I found myself at Felix’s house. After what happened in the attic, I was so far gone, the only thing I could think about was sleep. But waking up in the middle of the night, with his heavy arm wrapped around my body, the first thing that came to mind was to save Castle Pointe.
Not evil, only good.
Yet, as I snuck out of his room, grabbing my backpack and bringing it down to the basement, it wasn’t the goodness that found me, it was only evil.
My eyes crack open, my body frozen as a heavy, warm arm secures around my waist. My gaze travels to the fingers clamped around my hip, trailing up the forearm to the muscular shoulder, and the naked, sharp chest of Felix.
My breath seizes in my chest, and I swallow over the lump in my throat at his relaxed, yet tense, face.
He looks so comfortable, so relaxed in his bed, with me wrapped in his arms. But from the way his eyebrows fold into a sharp V, like he’s concentrating hard, or contemplating something, frustration must be rolling through him.
