The Vesper Creed

Chapter 7

Aizere's Point of View

I spent the rest of the day in a daze, the image of that crescent moon and thorny rose burned into my mind. As soon as I got home, I bypassed the kitchen and went straight to my room, locking the door behind me. I needed to find something, a feeling in my gut telling me that the answers were closer than I thought.

Underneath my bed was a dusty plastic bin filled with things from my childhood, the few items my dad had kept for me while I was away in Georgia. My heart hammered against my ribs as I pulled it out and sat on the floor. Inside were old ribbons, a dried flower, and a stack of sketchbooks with worn-out covers.

I sat there, the quiet of the house feeling heavy, and began to flip through the pages of a book dated ten years ago. Most of the drawings were what you'd expect from a child, messy trees, a house with a chimney, and stick figures of me and Ruan playing in the yard.

But as I reached the middle of the book, the style changed. The lines became sharper, more focused, as if I had been drawing with a sudden, strange intensity.

I stopped at a page that was nearly torn at the corner. My breath caught in my throat. There, drawn in dark, heavy charcoal, was the exact same symbol I had seen on Victoria's hand. The crescent moon was curved like a sickle, and the rose was wrapped in thorns that looked like they were digging into the paper.

A cold shiver raced down my spine. I hadn't just seen that tattoo today; I had known it was coming years ago. I stared at the drawing, waiting for a memory to break through the wall in my head, but all I felt was a sudden, overwhelming sense of being watched.

The following day, the hallways of St. Carmelle felt unnervingly large and quiet. Lilith's seat in Human Biology remained empty, her absence leaving a gap in the room that made me feel exposed. I had checked my phone a dozen times, but my messages to her remained unread. When the final bell rang, Ruan caught up with me briefly, his cleats clattering against the linoleum. He gave me a hurried, apologetic squeeze on the shoulder, explaining that football practice was running late today.

"Don't walk through the woods, okay? Stay on the main road," he warned, his eyes searching mine with that familiar, worried intensity before he jogged off toward the lockers.

I decided to take his advice, choosing the long way home along the highway. The air was crisp, and the sun was a pale, filtered disc behind the heavy Washington clouds. I was walking along the shoulder of the road, the rhythmic sound of my own footsteps the only thing breaking the silence, when a flash of white movement darted out from the thick brush.

A small, fluffy white cat scrambled onto the asphalt, its tail puffed out in fear. At that exact moment, the roar of an engine echoed from around the bend. A black sedan was speeding toward the curve, its tires humming against the pavement.

"No! Stop!" I cried out.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion. I lunged toward the road, my hand outstretched as if I could physically halt the vehicle. The car's brakes screamed, the smell of burning rubber filling the air as it swerved and skidded to a halt just inches from the small animal. I didn't stop to look at the driver. My only focus was the cat, which had hissed and bolted straight into the dark treeline on the opposite side of the highway.

"Wait! Come back!" I called, my protective instincts overriding Ruan's warning.

I scrambled up the embankment and pushed into the forest. The light dimmed instantly as the canopy of evergreens swallowed the sun. I followed the white blur as it darted under ferns and over moss-covered logs, the sound of my heavy breathing and the snapping of twigs filling my ears. I felt like I had been running for miles when the trees suddenly thinned out, opening into a vast, hidden estate.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. Before me stood a house that defied logic. It was a massive, sprawling structure of dark stone and weathered wood, with sharp angles and towering glass windows that reflected the surrounding forest like a mirror. It looked ancient, yet it possessed a cold, modern edge that felt both beautiful and threatening. It was tucked so deeply into the woods that it felt like another world entirely.

I stood there, mesmerized, the white cat now huddled at the base of a stone pillar near the entrance. I stepped forward and scooped the trembling creature into my arms, feeling its heart racing against my palms.

"You have a habit of following things that don't want to be found, Aizere."

The voice was like a physical touch, low and vibrating with a melodic, dark energy. I spun around, my heart leaping. Ezrain was standing only a few feet away, leaning against the side of a stone archway. He wasn't wearing his heavy coat; instead, he wore a simple black sweater that seemed to highlight the unnatural paleness of his skin. His silver eyes were fixed on me, glowing with a strange light in the shadows of the porch.

"Why is my cat in your arms?" he asked. His voice wasn't angry, but it held a weight that made it hard to breathe.

I looked down at the cat, which was now purring loudly and kneading its claws into my black sleeves. I looked back at him, trying to find my voice. "She... she almost got hit on the highway. I followed her to make sure she was okay. I didn't know she belonged to you."

Ezrain stepped out from the shadows, his movements so smooth they were almost ghostly. As he approached, the air around me grew noticeably colder, as if he carried the winter with him. He stopped just inches from me, and for the first time, I noticed the faint scent surrounding him, the smell of rain, crushed pine needles, and a sharp, metallic tang that reminded me of old coins.

"Her name is Snow," he murmured. He reached out a long, pale hand to take the animal. Our fingers brushed, and I felt a jolt of freezing electricity shoot up my arm, making my breath hitch. He pulled the cat to his chest, his gaze never leaving mine. "She is very much like you, too curious for her own good. The woods here aren't kind to things that don't know the rules of the hunt."

I stood my ground, though my knees felt weak. "I was just trying to help. I didn't mean to trespass."

Ezrain stepped back, his silver eyes never leaving mine as he pulled the heavy, dark oak door open. It swung silently on its hinges, revealing an interior that was just as grand and chilling as the outside.

"Come in, Aizere," he said, his voice dropping to a low, inviting hum. "It's getting cold out here."

I hesitated for a second, the warning Ruan had given me screaming in the back of my mind. But my curiosity, coupled with the strange pull Ezrain had over me, won. I stepped over the threshold.