Page 40 of Wraith

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.”

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