Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
The moment I saw Kael, I knew I was about to sound like a lunatic.
He was standing outside the chapel, a cigarette dangling between his fingers, his expression carved from stone. The others were still inside, murmuring in hushed tones about Emma’s arrest, but Kael had removed himself from the crowd. He’d always been like that—choosing distance over confrontation, even when the world was falling apart around him.
And right now, I needed him to confront something impossible.
My throat became so dry as I approached, my phone clutched tight in my palm. The image was still there. Ciaran’s pleading face. The distorted outlines of Lucian and Lily. Proof that I wasn’t losing my mind.
But how the hell was I supposed to explain this?
Kael flicked his cigarette, eyes narrowing as he noticed me. “You look like shit.”
I exhaled sharply. “Yeah, well. I just saw Lucian getting ridden in the middle of his own funeral by Lily, so excuse me if I’m not feeling my best.”
Kael’s gaze flickered. For a moment, he said nothing, just took a slow drag from his cigarette before releasing a plume of smoke into the cold air. “Say that again.”
“I saw them.” I swallowed hard. “Lucian. Lily. Ciaran. They were in the back pew. Lily was—” I broke off, shaking my head. “I took a picture.”
His skepticism was instant. “You took a picture.”
I turned my phone around and shoved it toward him. “Look.”
Kael’s eyes dropped to the screen. The moment stretched thin between us. He didn’t speak, didn’t react, just studied the image with an unreadable expression.
And then he inhaled sharply.
I saw it the second he registered Ciaran’s face—the unmistakable clarity, the silent, desperate plea. Kael’s fingers clenched around the phone, his lips parting slightly like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
And then, just like that, the mask was back. He shoved my phone away, shaking his head. “It’s a glitch.”
I felt frustration coil in my gut. “Kael?—”
“Or some sick joke.” His voice was tight, controlled. “Someone could’ve tampered with your phone. Deepfakes, AI bullshit, whatever.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“I don’t believe in ghosts.”
“Then what the fuck do you think is happening?”
Kael didn’t answer. He exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. “I need to go.”
“To do what?”
“Think.”
He started walking away. Away. Like he could just ignore this, like he could turn his back on the impossible and pretend everything was normal.
“Kael, don’t do anything stupid!” I called after him.
But he was already gone.
I stood there for a long moment, watching the space he left behind, heart hammering. I wanted to chase after him, to shake him out of whatever dark thoughts were spinning through his head, but what would I even say? The proof was right there in my hands, and still, he refused to see it.
With a frustrated sigh, I shoved my phone into my pocket and turned back toward the chapel. The murmurs inside had started to die down, and I could hear the rustle of coats as people began filing out. Emma had been taken away in handcuffs, whispers following her like a funeral procession of their own. The whole thing felt surreal, like I had stepped into a nightmare I couldn’t wake from.
But Kael… Kael was walking into something worse. And I wasn’t sure how to pull him back.
Kael wasn’t answering his phone.
I’d texted, called, and even debated tracking his location, but I knew Kael well enough to know that if he didn’t want to be found, I wouldn’t find him. Still, the longer he stayed silent, the worse my anxiety got.
And then, just after midnight, my phone buzzed with a single message.
Come over.
Kael’s dorm was dimly lit when I arrived, the scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke lingering in the air. The first thing I noticed was the candles. Five of them, placed in a careful circle around a board on the floor.
An Ouija board.
I stopped dead in the doorway. “Tell me you’re joking.”
Kael sat cross-legged on the floor, his eyes shadowed and unreadable. “I need answers.”
“You need therapy... Actually, I think we all need therapy.”
He ignored me, gesturing toward the board. “Sit.”
“No.”
“Aeron.” His voice sounded flat, tired. “I need to know.”
I hesitated. Every instinct in me screamed to leave. To pretend I hadn’t seen that picture, that I hadn’t seen Lucian’s ruined expression, that I hadn’t seen Ciaran staring at me like I was his last hope.
But Kael looked desperate. And after everything we’d lost, I wasn’t sure either of us could afford to ignore this anymore.
Reluctantly, I sank down across from him. “This is a bad idea.”
He smirked, but there was no humor in it. “Probably.”
Kael placed his fingers on the planchette. After a moment, I did the same. The air around us felt heavy. Almost suffocating.
Kael licked his lips. "Lily," he said softly. "Are you there?"
For a long moment, nothing happened.
Then, the planchette moved.
NO.
I frowned. Kael stiffened. We exchanged a glance, confusion thick in the air.
"Then who is this?" Kael asked, his voice low, cautious.
The planchette slid across the board.
L... I... L... I... T... H.
The name formed in slow, deliberate movements. My stomach twisted.
Kael exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Isn't that just your full name?" he muttered, trying for nonchalance. "It's still you, Lily?—"
The planchette jerked violently.
It moved faster than before, dragging itself across the board like unseen hands were shoving it with force. LILITH. LILITH. LILITH. Over and over again, the letters repeated, scrawling out the name with terrifying urgency.
Then, without warning, I felt a searing pain lash across my forearm.
I recoiled, sucking in a sharp breath. "Shit!"
Kael’s head snapped toward me. "What?"
I yanked up my sleeve, my pulse spiking as I stared at the fresh, raw scratches carved into my skin. Three long, red marks trailed down my forearm, as if invisible claws had raked through flesh.
The air in the room felt thick, suffocating. The candles flickered violently, the flames stretching unnaturally high before snuffing out all at once.
A whisper—sharp, cold, unmistakable—curled around my ear.
“You will call me by my name.”
Then, the planchette moved.
YES.
I felt my blood turn to ice. My fingers trembled slightly, but I didn’t pull away.
“Are you behind this?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
The planchette slid across the board.
YES.
My stomach twisted.
I exhaled slowly. "Why?"
The planchette paused. Then, with deliberate slowness, it began to move again.
BALANCE THE SCALES.
Silence. Thick. Suffocating.
I clenched my jaw, frustration bubbling under my skin. "I won't let you win." My voice came out harsher than I intended, but I didn't care. "We regret it. We regretted it the second it happened. But there's nothing we can do to bring you back. Nothing we can do to change the past." I swallowed, hands shaking. "Move the fuck on and leave us alone."
I stood abruptly, shoving the board away from me. "This is fucked. We’re wasting our time. You wanted answers? Fine, you got them. She wants us dead, Kael."
Kael sat motionless, staring at the board like he could pull different answers from it if he just looked hard enough.
I ran a hand down my face, exhaling sharply. "You hear me? This is done. Don’t fucking sit here all night obsessing over it."
He finally exhaled, rubbing his jaw. "Go."
I lingered at the door for half a second longer, debating whether I should say something else—anything—but what was the point? He wasn’t listening.
I shook my head and left, slamming the door behind me. Let him stew in it. If he wanted to drown himself in guilt, that was his problem. But I wasn’t going to let her win.
The door clicked shut behind Aeron, leaving me alone in the dim candlelight. The air felt heavier without him there, like something was waiting. Watching.
I numbly fixed the board back in front of me. My fingers hovered over the planchette, breath uneven.
"You’re still here, aren’t you?" My voice barely broke the quiet.
The planchette twitched.
YES.
I swallowed hard, my throat tight. My fingers gripped the edge of the board, knuckles white.
"I don’t want to die."
The air in the room thickened, the candlelight flickering against the walls like shadows were stretching closer. The planchette shifted again, deliberate, slow.
PROVE IT.
My breath was shallow, hands trembling as I reached for the planchette once more.
My voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper. "Lilith… are you still here?"
The planchette jerked under his fingers.
YES.
My throat tightened. "I… I don’t want to die."
The silence in the room stretched thick, suffocating. Then, slow and deliberate, the planchette began to move again.
PROVE IT.
KILL THEM.
SAVE YOU.
KILL THEM.