Colson

The Witch I Should’ve Buried Deeper

Colson POV

I should’ve killed her.

That was my first thought.

Not moral. Not dramatic. Just practical.

I should’ve finished it when I had the chance.

Instead, I’d been clever.

Trapped her.

Outplayed her.

Left her tangled in Amaris’s bloodline trap long enough to secure the first piece of the book.

I had assumed that was enough.

Assumed she’d stay buried.

Assumed time would hold her.

That was my mistake.

The city felt wrong tonight.

Not in the usual rotting, morally bankrupt, blood-slick way it always did.

Different wrong.

Intentional wrong.

Ezra had just finished giving me new orders — more digging outside the city, more witch meetings, more names. It wasn’t what he had ordered the first time I lived this life. That alone meant the threads were shifting faster than I liked.

But as I walked away from the nightclub, something else tugged at my senses.

Not Ezra.

Ezra’s attention was cold and direct.

This was sharper.

Personal.

Predatory.

I turned down a side street, posture relaxed, pace steady, hands casually in my pockets like I didn’t have a world-ending artifact strapped beneath my coat.

That’s when I felt it clearly.

Not just being watched.

Being hunted.

My jaw tightened slightly.

No.

It couldn’t be.

I had bound her.

Locked her in the trap triggered by Amaris’s bloodline.

I had watched the glyphs ignite.

Watched the walls close.

Watched her rage.

Watched her disappear into the binding.

Unless—

Unless something disrupted it.

Unless someone helped her.

Unless she was stronger than I calculated.

Or worse…

Unless time itself shifted enough to weaken the trap.

I kept walking.

Slow.

Measured.

Controlled.

Because if she was out—

If she was truly free—

Then she wasn’t watching me for curiosity.

She was watching me for the book.

And she knew exactly what I was.

A mistake.

A temporal anomaly.

A threat.

I turned a corner and slipped into an alley, not hiding — repositioning.

A moment later, the air shifted.

Magic brushed against my skin.

Old.

Dark.

Familiar.

A shadow detached itself from the brick wall across from me.

She stepped forward slowly.

Same pale face.

Same eyes that looked like they’d memorized too many endings.

Kendrick’s witch.

Only this time, there was no surprise in her expression.

Only calculation.

“Well,” she said softly, voice smooth as silk drawn across a blade, “you’re harder to bury than I anticipated.”

I let out a short, humorless chuckle.

“I could say the same.”

Her lips curved slightly.

“You didn’t kill me.”

“No,” I agreed. “I was feeling generous.”

Her eyes sharpened.

“You trapped me.”

“Technical difference.”

She tilted her head, studying me like I was a puzzle piece she’d been waiting to reposition.

“You have something,” she said quietly.

There it was.

Direct.

Not vague suspicion.

Not testing.

Certainty.

My pulse didn’t change.

Didn’t need to.

But internally, every calculation sharpened.

She knew.

Or at least suspected.

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” I replied lightly. “I have a lot of charming qualities.”

Her gaze flicked briefly toward my chest.

Not at my face.

Not at my hands.

At the hidden space beneath my coat.

That was not a guess.

That was confirmation.

She stepped closer.

“I remember you,” she said softly. “Not this version. The one who thought he was clever.”

I smiled faintly.

“I am clever.”

“You were desperate,” she corrected.

Fair.

“And you’re bleeding time,” she added.

That landed.

Because that meant she could feel it.

She could sense the anomaly around me.

Which meant the trap hadn’t erased her awareness.

Which meant she remembered the future.

Which meant she knew what Ezra would become.

Which meant she could weaponize that knowledge.

My tone stayed casual.

“Still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Her smile vanished.

“You are not meant to be here.”

That wasn’t accusation.

That was fact.

“And yet,” I said, spreading my hands slightly, “here I am.”

Silence stretched between us.

The alley felt smaller.

The air tighter.

“You took something,” she said finally.

“I take a lot of things.”

“The book.”

There it was.

No metaphor.

No dance.

Straight to the bone.

My expression didn’t change.

But my mind did.

If she knew about the piece—

If she knew I had it—

Then she could go to Ezra.

Or Kendrick.

Or both.

And if Ezra found out before I could return—

Everything burned.

Not the world physically.

But the fragile future we had built.

The alliances.

The balance.

Amaris.

My Amaris.

The one waiting for me.

The one who believed I would come back.

The thought hit harder than expected.

If I stayed too long—

If I failed—

If she couldn’t fix the watch—

I’d be stuck here.

Permanent.

And everything I loved would unravel in the future I abandoned.

“Careful,” I said lightly, stepping closer to her now. “That kind of rumor can get you killed.”

Her eyes flashed faintly.

“You already tried.”

“Did I?” I tilted my head. “Or did I simply relocate you?”

She didn’t smile.

Good.

She wasn’t amused.

Which meant she was angry.

Anger was predictable.

Predictable was manageable.

“You cannot change what is meant to happen,” she said.

I snorted softly.

“Have you met me?”

She moved fast.

Faster than before.

Her hand snapped toward my throat, magic flaring around her fingers.

I caught her wrist mid-motion.

Our eyes locked.

There was no performance now.

No humor.

No casual cruelty.

Just tension.

“You should have stayed trapped,” I said quietly.

“You should not have come back,” she replied.

Back.

She said back.

So she remembered.

Fully.

That meant she knew the future.

Knew Ezra’s fate.

Knew what I would eventually become.

And if she told him—

If she whispered even a fraction of that—

The timeline could implode.

I shoved her back hard, breaking contact.

She steadied easily.

Too easily.

“You’re being watched,” she said calmly.

I laughed dryly.

“Yes. That’s been the theme of my evening.”

“Not by him,” she clarified.

Not Ezra.

That meant Kendrick.

Or worse.

Something else.

“You can’t leave,” she added.

That froze me more than I wanted to admit.

“What?”

She smiled faintly.

“You’re anchored.”

My jaw tightened.

“You don’t know that.”

“I can feel it.”

That was the first moment real fear flickered through me.

Because if she could sense the anchor—

If she could feel the spell binding me here—

Then the watch’s repair had changed more than I realized.

And if I was stuck—

If I was truly stuck—

Then the future wasn’t just at risk.

It was gone.

Gone.

Everything I fought for.

Everything I rebuilt.

Everything I became.

Wiped.

“Give it to me,” she said softly. “The piece.”

I smiled.

Slow.

Dangerous.

“If you think that’s happening, you really should’ve stayed trapped.”

Her eyes darkened.

“We will see.”

And then—

She vanished.

Not like before.

Not trapped.

Not sealed.

Gone.

I stood there alone in the alley, the silence pressing in around me.

She knew.

She was free.

And she was hunting the piece.

Which meant I had to reach Amaris.

Now.

But I couldn’t lead the witch to her.

I couldn’t let her sense the connection.

Which meant I had to disappear first.

And if I didn’t get out of this timeline soon—

If I didn’t fix this—

Then the life I loved would be erased.

And I would be left here.

In the city that nearly destroyed me.

With the monster I used to be.

And no way home.

I ran.