Rosalie stood at the edge of the shadow, barely a meter from them— invisible to the human eye, but present with her whole being. She felt every beat of his heart. Every tremor in Julie's voice. Every gesture.
She watched as Jeremy shielded the girl from the creature of darkness, and how Julie looked at him with something that resembled… trust. Adoration.
She had dreams too.
But in her dreams, Jeremy wasn't protecting someone else. In her dreams, she was the one by his side. She was meant to be the one who would stand with him against the world. She was to share his power. The night. The darkness. Everything.
She clenched her hands so tightly that her nails cut the skin. Blood dripped quietly onto the ground, burning the grass. A hellish essence.
— You're lying, Jeremy… — she whispered into the void, her voice barely audible, yet filled with sorrow. — You were supposed to be mine.
She took a step back and vanished, but her presence still hung in the air—like a poisoned breath.
In the underground chambers she returned to, a shadow was already waiting. It did not belong to her. But this time… they were allies.
— If I can't have him, I'll burn everything he loves.
The shadow nodded. And so the ritual began. The ritual to sever Julie from power, from dreams, from Jeremy. She was to become just an ordinary girl.
Without a trace of magic. Without memories. Without love.
For now...
*
The underground was cold and damp, walls covered in moss, and the air smelled of decay and something unnamed. Rosalie knelt inside a circle made of ashes, herbs, and symbols carved into the stone with blood.
In the center lay an object belonging to Julie—a bracelet with the letter J, which had fallen into Rosalie's hands that day at school. Unassuming, cheap jewelry, but worn every day, saturated with the girl's energy.
Rosalie closed her eyes, raising her hands.
— Sanctuary of dreams, leave her be. Let the bond weaken, let the heart doubt. Let her forget, let her drown in uncertainty...
Darkness responded. Candle flames flickered out for a moment, then blazed blue. Shadows danced along the walls, whispering in tongues no one knew except Lucifer's children.
Rosalie opened her eyes—now completely black, without pupils, without color. Pure darkness.
— Take her dreams away. Take her visions. Let her get lost. — She uttered the last words, and the ash swirled in the air, vanishing into the space where Julie was.
At the same time: Julie's room
The girl lay on her bed. Her breathing was fast, restless. Her body trembled, and her hand clenched the bedding tightly. When she tried to fall asleep, she saw… nothing.
Darkness. Dead silence. No dream. No sign.
No Jeremy.
She opened her eyes, sitting up abruptly, confused. Her heart pounded wildly. Something was wrong. She could feel it.
But she couldn't say what exactly was gone. And that scared her the most.
*
Jeremy sat on the roof of an abandoned building, far from the center. The night was quiet, almost too much—the sky smooth as glass, the moon pale and silent.
He closed his eyes for the same reason every time—to hear her.
Her dreams usually came as a whisper. Images, emotions, feelings… Warmth, confusion, longing. Even if they weren't together, Julie was somewhere out there—her consciousness connecting with his.
But tonight it was empty.
Silence. Soulless, dead.
He opened his eyes.
He clenched his fists. Furthermore, he felt… a rupture. As if someone had cut an invisible thread. His heart began pounding harder. Not out of fear—but because something inside him was trying to scream a warning.
He jumped off the roof in one move, landing softly on the ground. Shadows moved around him as if waiting for his commands.
— Julie? — he whispered her name like a spell.
Nothing.
And that was the worst.
He looked toward her house, far away, beyond the city. His gaze pierced the distance as if instinctively wanting to see her, sense her, confirm that she was still there.
But everything was blurred. As if someone had put a wall between them.
He blinked, tasting bitterness on his tongue.
— Rosalie…
His voice was lower now, changed. Anger broke through his human part—and then from his back grew shadows. Dark, writhing forms that appeared only when he was close to the edge between control and primal instinct.
He had no doubts anymore. Rosalie was interfering with Julie. And that meant only one thing.
She was no longer just playing for his attention.
She had gone all in—striking at his weakness.
*
Jeremy walked through an empty alley, breathing heavier and heavier, as if the surrounding air was polluted by something invisible but deeply felt. Shadow after shadow clung to his skin—whispers echoed in his head like a haunting refrain:
— She took her. Because of her… she's changing.
— Julie… doesn't remember what she saw.
— The ritual. She opened doors she won't close.
He gritted his teeth. Until now, he hadn't known all of Rosalie's powers, but now he was beginning to understand. She didn't just want to manipulate. She started feeding on what Julie had seen.
By the wall of an old chapel—one of those long-forgotten sacred places now overgrown with moss and sin—he saw a sign. A circle burned into the ground. Black sand inside and dried blood stains.
Jeremy knelt. He touched the inside of the circle with his fingers.
He closed his eyes.
And then… he saw.
Julie. Kneeling. Her eyes glazed. Around her, Rosalie whispered words in a language no human ear should hear. A shadow crawling through her shoulders. No inflicting pain. Something worse.
Transformation.
Jeremy pulled his hand away as if burned. He stood abruptly.
He knew this ritual. He knew what it was. Rosalie didn't just want to bind him to herself.
She wanted… to make Julie a vessel.
To prepare her body for something to pass through.
His chest heaved furiously. From his back, shadows sprouted again, but this time with bright streaks of light inside—an effect of who his mother was.
He wasn't going to let her have it. Nor allow Julie to become anyone's portal.
Not today.
*
Julie sat on her bed, wrapped in an oversized sweater and a silence that seemed to have its own pulse. She stared at her hands, lightly reddened from the cold. The night before, she had the same dream again—voices, lights, fire, and herself… in the center of the circle.
She felt weak, as if someone had taken a part of her away.
The door creaked.
Jeremy entered without a word, closing it behind him. His posture was tense, as if struggling with something he hadn't yet named. But his eyes… they searched for her.
— Hey — he whispered. — Are you feeling unwell?
Julie lifted her gaze. She nodded slowly.
— I don't know what's happening. For days now… I feel like someone else. Like I'm splitting apart. Sometimes… I hear whispers. I see things that shouldn't be there.
Jeremy sat on the edge of the bed. He was silent for a long moment.
— Julie — he finally said softly. — I know what Rosalie did.
Her pupils widened. She trembled but didn't recoil.
— What do you mean?
— You were part of the ritual. Not of your own will… But she did something that could change you. — His voice held something she hadn't heard before. Tenderness. And fear.
Julie put a hand to her mouth. Her breath grew shallow. She recalled the moments when time blurred. When something whispered to her from the darkness.
— She touched me — she whispered. — But it wasn't a normal touch. It was… like she was trying to open me from the inside.
Jeremy grasped her hand, squeezing it tightly.
— I won't let it happen again. Julie, you're not alone. And you're not weak. But we have to act fast. She might want to finish it.
— So… what now?
He looked straight into her eyes. He had anger, but also a glow. A spark of hope. And something Julie felt for the first time to her core—his presence. Like his soul wrapped around her, protecting.
— Now? You stay with me. And I won't let anyone touch you. Neither Rosalie nor any force from this world—or another.
Her eyes welled with emotion. Yet… for the first time in a long while, she felt safe.
*
Julie sat in her room, staring at her own reflection in the mirror. Something in her eyes had changed. They were no longer just full of doubt and fear—they now held depth, as if someone had left inside her a fragment of another world.
Her hands trembled slightly as she touched the spot beneath her collarbone, where she had felt a burning warmth the night before. The place where Rosalie had laid her hand during the ritual.
— What is happening to me… — she whispered to herself.
She closed her eyes. An image appeared in her mind—a circle made of flames, voices whispering in a language she had never learned, yet understood every word. Jeremy. Standing on the other side, wounded, surrounded by darkness. And she… holding a sword.
She opened her eyes with a scream. The image vanished, but the echo remained. That was what scared her the most.
She didn't tell Jeremy about it. Not yet. She wasn't sure if she could. But she felt that their fates were entwined deeper than she had thought. And that something Rosalie opened inside her… would never close again.