Elizabeth woke the next morning with a strange calm in her chest, like the quiet before a storm. She called the bookshop early, telling them she needed the day off. Her voice was steady and sure — she knew she couldn't pretend to be normal today. Not anymore. She padded barefoot through the apartment, her hair still tangled from sleep, and found Lilith in the kitchen making tea. The rich, herbal scent filled the small room, warm and comforting. Lilith looked up as she entered, a soft smile on her lips. "You're ready," she said simply. Elizabeth nodded, feeling that word settle deep inside her. Ready. It felt right. "I am," she said, her voice steady. "I need to know who I am, Lilith. I need to feel it." Lilith pushed a steaming mug into her hands. "Then let's begin."
They cleared the living room, rolling up the rug and pushing the furniture back to make space. The apartment was still and quiet, the only sound the soft crackle of the candles Lilith lit around the room. The air smelled of lavender and sage, the faint whiff of magic already humming through it. Elizabeth felt the thrum of it in her skin, in her bones. She closed her eyes, her fingers curling around the edge of her mug, and let it settle into her. "Magic isn't about words or spells, Lizzie," Lilith said softly. "It's about intent. About feeling. About listening to the world around you, and to the part of yourself that's always been magic." Elizabeth nodded, her pulse quickening. She watched as Lilith moved through the room, her movements graceful and sure — a dance of familiarity and power. She sprinkled a circle of salt on the floor, her fingers deft and steady.
"Step into the circle," Lilith said, her voice gentle but firm. Elizabeth took a breath and obeyed, stepping barefoot into the salt. She felt the faint tingle of energy as she did, like the world itself was holding its breath. Lilith handed her a small crystal, its surface cool and smooth against her palm. "Focus on this," she said. "Let it anchor you. Let it hold your intentions." Elizabeth closed her fingers around the crystal, feeling its weight and coolness. She could feel the tiny pulse of energy within it — faint, but real. "Now close your eyes," Lilith murmured. "And breathe." Elizabeth did as she was told. She breathed in, slow and deep, and felt the room around her slip away. The flicker of candlelight, the faint scent of sage, the soft rustle of Lilith's skirts — all of it faded until it was just her and the quiet thrum of something older than she could name. "Feel the magic inside you," Lilith said softly. "It's always been there, waiting for you to see it. Let it rise." Elizabeth drew in another breath, her chest tight and aching. She thought of the dream she'd had — Nicholas's hands on her skin, his voice a dark promise. She thought of the way the book had called to her, the way the world seemed to bend around her when she was near him.
I'm not just a girl in a bookshop, she thought fiercely. I'm a witch. I'm power. Slowly, she felt it — a flicker of something bright and electric in her chest. Like a spark catching fire. She held it close, letting it burn. When she opened her eyes, she saw Lilith watching her, her expression proud and tender. "You felt it," Lilith said softly. "Didn't you?" Elizabeth nodded, her fingers still tight around the crystal. "I did," she whispered. "I feel… alive." Lilith reached out and cupped her cheek. "You are, Lizzie," she said. "You always were. And this is just the beginning." The day slipped by in a haze of focus and wonder. Elizabeth practiced with Lilith, small spells at first — moving a candle flame with her will, coaxing the warmth of the fire to flicker and dance. She learned to listen, to feel the thrum of energy that wove through every breath, every heartbeat. Lilith guided her gently, her voice a calm anchor. "Don't force it, Lizzie," she murmured. "Let it come to you. Trust yourself."
Elizabeth closed her eyes, feeling the heat of the candle against her skin. She pictured the flame dancing in her mind, imagining it obeying her call. Slowly, the flicker shifted, drawn to the curve of her palm. She opened her eyes, a small, breathless laugh escaping her lips. "I did it," she whispered. Lilith's smile was radiant. "You did. See? You're already stronger than you know." They practiced for hours, the apartment filled with the soft glow of magic and candlelight. Elizabeth felt alive — as if every breath was a spark, every heartbeat a promise.
Meanwhile, Nicholas stood outside the bookshop, frowning.
The windows were dark, the door locked and the sign turned to Closed. He pressed a hand to the cool glass, a tight knot of unease in his chest. Where is she? he thought, his mind racing. Elizabeth never closed the shop early, not without telling someone. And after last night, after the way he'd felt her slipping deeper into his world… he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He tried to tell himself she was safe. That she was just busy, or needed some time alone. But his instincts — honed by centuries of danger and darkness — refused to be soothed. He turned on his heel, striding quickly down the street toward the apartment she shared with Lilith. He didn't bother to knock when he reached the door; he pushed it open, his senses sharp and restless. The moment he stepped inside, he felt it — the hum of power in the air, the flicker of something old and wild. He followed it down the short hallway, pausing in the doorway of the living room.
Elizabeth stood in the circle of salt, her eyes closed, her hands lifted in a soft, graceful arc. The candle flames danced around her, responding to some silent call. Her hair glowed in the light, her face serene and focused. Lilith stood nearby, her expression calm and watchful. She turned as Nicholas entered, her brow lifting. "Nicholas," she said quietly. "You shouldn't be here right now." He ignored her, his eyes fixed on Elizabeth. "What is she doing?" he demanded, his voice low and rough. Lilith's mouth curved in a small, knowing smile. "She's finding her power," she said. "She's becoming who she was always meant to be." Elizabeth's eyes fluttered open, her gaze meeting his. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Nicholas felt the pull of her — the raw, beautiful power that shimmered around her like moonlight. "Elizabeth," he said softly, stepping forward. "Are you all right?" She nodded, her breath coming fast, her cheeks flushed with the heat of the magic. "I'm… more than all right," she whispered. "I feel alive, Nicholas. I feel… like this is who I'm meant to be."
Nicholas's jaw tightened, his eyes dark with something fierce and protective. "It's dangerous," he said. "You're playing with forces you don't understand." "I know," Elizabeth said, her voice soft but sure. "But I have to. I have to know what I am." For a moment, the room was silent — the flicker of candlelight, the soft hum of power in the air. And then Nicholas stepped into the circle, his hands reaching for hers. "Then I'll stand with you," he said, his voice low and certain. "I'll protect you. Always." Elizabeth looked up at him, her heart thudding in her chest. "I don't want to be afraid," she said. His fingers brushed her cheek, his touch gentle and possessive. "With me," he murmured, "you never have to be."
Nicholas's hand slid down to Elizabeth's wrist, his touch a cool contrast to the heat simmering in the air. "Show me what you've learned," he said softly. She nodded, her breath catching as she turned back to the flickering candles. Her magic still felt fragile, a trembling flame she didn't want to snuff out. But with Nicholas standing so close — his presence steady, unwavering — she felt braver. Lilith stepped back, watching with a small, proud smile. "Focus, Lizzie," she murmured. "Feel the energy in your blood." Elizabeth drew in a breath and let her mind go quiet. She reached out with her will, feeling the flicker of the flames like tiny hearts beating in time with her own. Slowly, she coaxed them to lean closer, to sway with the rhythm of her breath. Nicholas's voice was low, right by her ear. "You're stronger than you know." She turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting his. "I've never felt this before," she said softly. "It's in you," he said. "You're waking up, Elizabeth."
She closed her eyes, her hand still outstretched. The flames wavered and then rose higher, drawn by the surge of her heartbeat. She felt the power coursing through her — not something separate from her, but something that had always been there. Nicholas's hand slid around her waist, steadying her. She felt the weight of his gaze, the tension coiled in his frame. "You're beautiful," he whispered, his lips brushing her temple. Her breath shivered out of her. The air between them felt charged, humming with something both dangerous and inevitable. She turned to face him fully, her eyes wide and searching. "Nicholas," she said, her voice a hushed confession. "This… you… it feels like fate." His eyes darkened, his hand tightening at her waist. "It is," he said, his voice a low promise. "You're part of my world now, Elizabeth. You always were."
She lifted her hand to his cheek, her fingertips brushing the cool line of his jaw. For a moment, everything else fell away — the candles, the circle of salt, even Lilith's quiet presence. It was just them, caught in the gravity of each other. Then Nicholas leaned in, his mouth capturing hers in a kiss that was both tender and demanding. The taste of him was intoxicating — dark and sweet, like red wine and midnight. Elizabeth melted into him, her hands fisting in his shirt as the heat between them flared. When they broke apart, their breaths were ragged, the air around them shimmering with power. "I don't know what's coming," she whispered against his lips. He cupped her face in his hands, his eyes fierce and protective. "Whatever it is, we'll face it together." She nodded, her heart thudding in her chest. "Together."
Nicholas's thumb brushed against Elizabeth's cheek, his gaze lingering on her lips as he leaned in for another soft kiss. The air around them hummed, the circle of salt shimmering faintly with the last threads of Elizabeth's magic. A soft, amused voice broke the moment. "Well, if you two are done melting the walls," Lilith said with a teasing lilt, "maybe you'd like to join the rest of us back on Earth." Elizabeth flushed, stepping back just a little, her pulse still racing. "Lilith—" "Oh, don't mind me," Lilith said with a mischievous smile. She stepped into the room, her arms folded across her chest, eyes bright with mirth. "I'm just the third wheel here, watching you two play with fire—quite literally." Nicholas's mouth curved into a small, reluctant smile. "You're enjoying this far too much," he said dryly. "Someone has to," Lilith shot back, winking at Elizabeth. "Besides, it's not every day I get to see a vampire fumble around like a lovesick teenager." Elizabeth let out a shaky laugh, her cheeks warm. "It's… it's not what it looks like." Lilith raised a brow. "Oh? Because it looks exactly like two people who can't keep their hands—or their magic—off each other."
Nicholas rolled his eyes, but his hand slid back to Elizabeth's waist, grounding her. "Lilith," he said in a low voice, his tone half-chiding, half-amused, "don't push it." Lilith just smiled wider. "Fine, fine. I'll behave… for now." She stepped forward and reached for Elizabeth's hand, her tone softening. "But seriously, Lizzie… I'm proud of you. You're taking this head-on, even when it's scary." Elizabeth swallowed hard, her eyes flicking between Lilith's warmth and Nicholas's fierce protectiveness. "I couldn't do it without you," she said softly. Lilith squeezed her hand. "Of course not. That's what family's for." Then she smirked. "And if it gets too intense, I'll just pour salt around your bed and tell you to take a cold shower." Elizabeth groaned, hiding her face in her hands as Nicholas let out a soft laugh. "Lilith—" "Hey, someone's gotta keep things interesting around here," Lilith said with a shrug. "Now—who's up for dinner? All this magic and steamy eye contact is making me hungry."
They all gathered around the small kitchen table, a simple dinner of pasta and fresh bread that Lilith had thrown together while Elizabeth and Nicholas were still lost in each other's gravity. The candles burned low around the room, their flickering light casting soft shadows on the walls. Elizabeth twirled her fork through the steaming noodles, feeling the hum of magic still buzzing faintly at her fingertips. Nicholas sat beside her, his shoulder brushing hers every so often, sending little sparks of awareness skittering up her spine. Lilith propped her chin on her hand, watching them both with an amused glint in her eyes. "So," she drawled, "do I even need to ask what you two were really doing while I was cooking dinner?" Elizabeth nearly choked on her bite of pasta. "Lilith!" Nicholas raised a brow, his lips quirking in a faint smile. "What's your theory, Lilith?" Lilith grinned. "Oh, you know—just a bit of spell practice, a bit of… other practice." She waggled her brows playfully. "The air practically sizzled when I walked in." Elizabeth let out an embarrassed laugh, covering her face with her hands. "You're impossible!"
Lilith just cackled, reaching across the table to poke her cousin's arm. "Come on, Lizzie. Own it. The world's a dark and scary place—might as well have a little fun, yeah?" Elizabeth peeked at Nicholas from between her fingers. He just looked at her, his eyes dark and warm, and for a moment everything else seemed to fall away. "She's right, you know," he murmured, his voice low and soft. "You deserve a little fun." Lilith let out a low whistle. "Oh my god, Nicholas Rivera, are you actually flirting right now?" Nicholas shot her a look that was half amusement, half exasperation. "I'm stating facts, Lilith. Don't push it." Lilith snorted into her glass of wine. "Facts, huh? Because it looked a lot like you were about to devour her like some fairytale monster." Elizabeth flushed a deeper shade of red, but she couldn't help the soft laugh that bubbled out of her. "Lilith, stop," she said, but there was no real heat in her voice. There was a warmth there, a glow of affection.
Lilith's eyes softened. "Alright, alright. I'll stop… for now." She winked at Elizabeth, then leaned back in her chair with a satisfied sigh. "But seriously—this is good for you, Lizzie. Both of you. The world's heavy enough without second-guessing what makes you feel alive." Elizabeth reached across the table to squeeze Lilith's hand. "Thank you," she said softly, her throat tight with gratitude. For the teasing, yes, but also for the constant, unwavering support. Lilith squeezed back, then shot Nicholas a sly smile. "You know, Nicholas, if you're sticking around, you're going to have to get used to my brand of humor." Nicholas's eyes flickered with amusement. "Trust me, I'm already used to it," he said dryly. Lilith just laughed, leaning back with a content sigh. "Then it sounds like we're all exactly where we're supposed to be tonight." And for a moment, sitting in the flickering candlelight, laughter still lingering in the air, Elizabeth let herself believe that maybe — just maybe — she was exactly where she was supposed to be too.
The laughter died down to a warm hum, the comfortable clink of silverware and the occasional soft clink of wine glasses filling the air. Elizabeth leaned back in her chair, feeling the warmth of the room seep into her bones. Lilith tilted her head, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Alright, since we're sharing everything tonight… tell me, Nicholas—what's the strangest thing you've ever seen in your long, dark existence?" Elizabeth's eyes went wide. "Lilith!" Nicholas looked at Lilith, his mouth curling into a small, secretive smile. "You think you're ready for those stories?" Lilith grinned, undeterred. "Try me." He paused, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. "Alright. Once, centuries ago, I saw a werewolf and a fae queen play cards in the back of an old Parisian bar. The stakes were… unusual." Elizabeth blinked. "Unusual how?" Nicholas raised a brow, his tone dry. "Let's just say the fae queen left with the werewolf's soul—temporarily, of course. And he left with her crown. It was… complicated." Lilith's jaw dropped. "That's… insane." Nicholas's mouth twitched. "That's the world you're stepping into, Elizabeth. It's beautiful, yes—but it's also dangerous. Strange and dark and wondrous."
Elizabeth shivered at the quiet weight of his words. She glanced at Lilith, who was still staring at Nicholas with a mix of awe and glee. "You're both crazy," she said, half-laughing, half-serious. "But… I like it." Lilith leaned closer, her voice soft. "It's a lot, Lizzie. But you're already part of it. You always were." Elizabeth swallowed, her gaze dropping to her half-finished plate. She felt the truth of those words echo in her bones — the pull of something bigger than herself, something she couldn't walk away from even if she wanted to. Nicholas reached over, his fingers brushing hers lightly under the table. "You're not alone," he said, his voice low and steady. "Not ever."
For a moment, the world seemed to quiet around them — just the flicker of candles, the hush of the night pressing against the windows. Elizabeth looked up at him, and she saw it in his eyes: the promise of protection, of fierce loyalty… and something softer, too. Something that made her heart beat faster. Lilith cleared her throat dramatically, breaking the spell. "Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm officially stuffed. And maybe a little tipsy." She drained the last of her wine and set the glass down with a satisfied sigh. "I'm going to clean up before I start snoring at the table." Elizabeth laughed, shaking her head. "I'll help you." Lilith waved a dismissive hand. "You stay there. You've had enough excitement for one day." As Lilith bustled around the kitchen, Elizabeth let her gaze drift back to Nicholas. His eyes were on her, dark and intent, and for a moment she wondered if he could see everything she was feeling — the excitement, the fear, the dizzying pull of fate that tied them together. "Are you staying tonight?" she asked softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. Nicholas's lips curved faintly. "If you'll have me," he said. She nodded, her heart thudding in her chest. "I'd like that."
Lilith eventually disappeared into her room with a teasing wave, leaving Elizabeth and Nicholas alone in the quiet apartment. The last of the dishes clinked softly in the sink, and the candles burned low, their light flickering like tiny stars. Elizabeth drew in a slow breath as she turned to Nicholas, feeling the weight of the night settle around them. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to," she said, her voice soft, uncertain. Nicholas stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "I want to," he said simply. She felt a shiver of relief and something more — something that felt like fate pulling them closer with invisible threads. "Alright," she whispered. He brushed a strand of hair back from her face, his fingers lingering against her skin. "You've had a long day," he murmured. "You should rest." "I don't want to sleep just yet," she said, her voice quiet but sure. "Not if it means I'll dream of you again." He smiled faintly, his expression shadowed with something tender. "Then I'll be here to keep the dreams away."
They settled onto the couch together, the soft creak of the old cushions the only sound in the room. Elizabeth tucked her legs beneath her, leaning into his cool, steady warmth. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, his other hand resting gently on her knee. For a long moment, they said nothing. The silence felt easy, comfortable — a rare kind of peace that neither of them had known for too long. "Tell me something," she said finally, her head resting against his shoulder. "Anything." Nicholas paused, his thumb tracing small circles on her leg. "The first time I met you," he said softly, "I thought you were a dream. You looked so alive, so bright — it hurt to look at you." Elizabeth swallowed, her heart catching in her throat. "And now?" He tilted his head to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "Now you're not a dream," he murmured. "You're real. And I'm not letting you go." She closed her eyes, breathing in the faint, dark scent of him — like rain and shadows and something ancient. "Good," she whispered. "Because I don't want you to."
They stayed there for a long while, the candles flickering down to stubs as the night crept in around them. And when sleep finally claimed her, it was with Nicholas's arms around her and the quiet certainty that whatever lay ahead, they would face it together. Elizabeth drifted in that quiet space between waking and dreaming, the weight of Nicholas's arm around her a reassuring anchor in the darkness. The last of the candlelight guttered and died, leaving only the hush of the city outside — the distant murmur of car tires on wet streets, the soft sigh of the wind against the window. Nicholas's breathing was slow and even, his presence steady and protective. She shifted closer, resting her head on his chest and letting the soft rise and fall of his breath lull her into calm. It felt like safety. Like belonging. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she felt his fingers brush idly through her hair, gentle and unhurried. She thought she heard him whisper her name — so soft she might have imagined it — and her heart gave a slow, contented flutter.
At that moment, she didn't think about the shadows waiting outside or the secrets still to be uncovered. She didn't think about fate or magic or the dangerous world she was being pulled into. For now, it was just this: the warmth of his touch, the quiet promise of his presence, and the sweet, fleeting peace of being right where she was meant to be. Sleep found her then, her last thought a soft, whispered promise to herself: that whatever storms lay ahead, she wouldn't face them alone. The soft hush of the night wrapped around them, a gentle cocoon that felt like the quiet promise of something new. Elizabeth let her breathing slow, her body relaxing completely against Nicholas as his presence grounded her in the calm. The world outside might have been dark and full of shadows, but here — in this quiet apartment, in the soft curve of his arm around her — she felt like she could finally breathe. She felt like maybe, just maybe, she could let herself hope. A soft sigh slipped from her lips as her eyelids fluttered shut. And as the last flicker of candlelight gave way to darkness, she let herself sink into that feeling — of safety, of belonging, of something deeper and stronger than she had ever known. The night pressed close around them, a gentle hush that held no menace now — only the quiet promise that whatever came next, she wouldn't face it alone.