Page 143 of Craving Carla

“Possibly open the doorway to limbo,” I counter.

Damon and Kade approach. “Amari is right,” Damon says. “You should go back to the royal island.”

Amir scrunches his face in displeasure. “I will not. I’ve been on that island listening to the vampires for months. And Anora gave her approval for me to travel within Wintermoon. The tourist island is Wintermoon.” His expression hardens. “Brookstone and Blackburn wouldn’t dare be stupid enough to encroach on our lands.”

He looks at me with a glare. “Step aside. I’d like to get some fresh air and greet the people.”

I move reluctantly, but Damon, Kade, and I follow him out the door. Kade bursts through behind us.

“Oh hell no,” she mutters, leaving Carla behind with Bobby.

“I’m not a fan of the Christmas theme,” Amir comments as we walk. “I don’t understand why humans attach themselves to this holiday more than the others.”

I exchange glances with Damon and Kade but keep following. As we move through the streets, I notice something disturbing—children’s eyes glowing in the dark corners of the tourist island. So many of them are here, which isn’t normal. I adjust my suit and grab Damon’s arm, stopping him.

“A lot of Carla’s and my children are here,” I say quietly. “That means...”

Damon groans and turns away from me, picking up his pace to try and convince Amir to return to the royal island. Kade walks side by side with Amir, feigning a smile as she listens to him rant about the irritating green and red lights that appear every winter.

“I get it,” Kade says diplomatically. “You know, it’s really a good time to be home with Anora and Solomon.”

Amir stops and frowns at her. “Anora and Solomon are at a parent meetup at the spa. You know that Anora being queen means she has to be very social with the women of Wintermoon. She must acknowledge them all. She creates events to balance things out.” His frown deepens. “Meanwhile, none of the male shifters want to be within a few feet of me because I’m set apart from them, and I can’t go into the spa because ‘no male mates allowed.’” He glares at Kade, who helped set the rule.

“That is unfair,” he says pointedly.

Kade chuckles. “What about the academy? The children love when you visit.”

“Class is in session,” Amir responds, then stops walking. “This is ridiculous, all of you chaperoning me. I’m older than the first civilizations. I don’t need?—”

Kade closes her eyes as screams erupt around us. Humans break into panicked runs, terror clear on their faces. Damon and I share an irritated look.

I lean toward Amir. “Get off the island. Go to Anora now.”

“Absolutely not,” Amir says firmly. “I will stay and fight this creature. What could go wrong?”

That’s when I see it—the giant spider comes into view, massive and terrifying. It’s easily triple the size of Anora’s children, its abdomen—technically called an opisthosoma—glowing with that same pink light we saw in the photo. It clings to the top of one of the buildings, crawling down the side with unnatural speed, hissing at the humans who scramble to get away.

The creature’s body is a deep, dark brown, almost black, with legs that stretch out like gnarled tree branches, each segment covered in coarse bristles. Its chelicerae—the fang-bearing mouthparts—glisten with some kind of fluid that drips onto the ground, sizzling where it lands. The most disturbing feature is the pink glow emanating from its abdomen, pulsinglike a heartbeat, with what appears to be DNA strands etched into its exoskeleton. The pattern reminds me of Carla’s magic signature, but twisted, corrupted somehow. Each pulse sends ripples of pink light across the creature’s body, giving it the eerie impression of breathing—alive with stolen power.

Eight eyes, arranged in two rows of four, all focus directly on Amir. It’s as if the creature knows exactly who he is. The eyes appear almost like polished obsidian, deep and knowing. I can sense intelligence behind them—not animal instinct, but something more calculating.

All around us, chaos erupts. Humans scatter in every direction, some tripping over each other as they try to escape. A mother pulls her screaming child behind her, the child’s ice cream cone abandoned on the ground. An elderly couple huddles behind a bench, too frightened to run. Store managers scramble to lock their doors, trapping some desperate people outside.

A transport cart screeches to a halt as the driver spots the monstrous creature, then reverses at full speed, crashing a bunch of electric scooters parked. From somewhere in the distance, I hear glass breaking, followed by alarm bells. Panicked voices call out names, searching for separated loved ones.

The air itself seems charged with fear—I can taste it, metallic and sharp on my tongue. It’s intoxicating in a way that makes my fangs itch beneath my gums. I push the sensation aside, focusing on the immediate threat.

Street below, and I can see the web it’s spinning as it descends—threads of silk glowing with the same eerie pink light as its abdomen. The silk appears both solid and liquid, stretching and flowing in a way I’ve never seen. Where it touches the building’s surface, it seems to melt slightly into the material, anchoring itself with unnatural strength.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Kade hisses at Amir, but he seems mesmerized by the creature.

The spider suddenly releases a high-pitched clicking sound that makes my skin crawl. It bounces off the buildings, creating a disorienting effect that seems to confuse the few humans still trying to escape. I notice some of them stumbling, their movements becoming sluggish as if the sound is affecting their nervous systems.

I scan the rooftops and alleyways, spotting more of our children watching from the shadows, their eyes glowing. They’re not running or helping—they’re observing. Did they know this was coming? My instincts scream danger, but I’m torn between protecting Amir and finding Carla.

The spider shifts its weight, causing chunks of the building facade to crumble and fall to the street below. The debris crashes onto an abandoned hot dog cart, sending condiments spraying across the pavement in a grotesque parody of blood spatter. The sound seems to excite the creature; its movements grow quicker, more erratic.

“No,” Amir says, his voice unnaturally calm. “I want to talk to it.” He starts walking forward, his hands clasped behind his back, as if approaching an old friend rather than a monstrous creation.

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