Page 5 of Wicked Chains
"Rest well, Rose," he'd said at my door, his fingers tracing the mark on my arm. It had tingled, responding to his touch. "Tomorrow begins a new era for you."
I roll over and press my face into my pillow, fighting the urge to scream. I keep seeing Lucien and Soren on the ground, one paralyzed and the other unconscious. And Drake. Just gone, erased like he was never there. I have no idea if he’ll be back, or if I’ll ever see him again.
My arm aches. When Abigail died, something changed. The mark remains, but it feels different, like it's sunk deeper into my flesh. What did Ash mean about taking back what was owed?
I drag myself out of bed and into the tiny attached bathroom, staring at my reflection. I look like shit, but I'm alive. Yesterday Wickersly was about to have my head on a platter, but it’s still firmly attached to my neck. For now.
I'm halfway through brushing my teeth when I hear a click from the direction of my door. I freeze, toothbrush hanging from my mouth, and listen. Nothing follows. I rinse quickly and go toward the door, turning the handle experimentally.
It opens.
I stand there for a solid thirty seconds, toothpaste foam at the corner of my mouth, waiting for the trap. But the hallway is empty and silent. Am I supposed to leave? Is this a test?
A loud chime echoes through the building, followed by an announcement in a voice I don't recognize: "All students and faculty are required to attend the assembly in the Great Hall in thirty minutes. Attendance is mandatory."
Well, that answers that question.
I shower quickly, scrubbing yesterday's insanity off my skin like I can wash it all away with enough soap. I pull on a clean pair of black jeans and a t-shirt, and pull my hair back in an attempt to make myself look like a person who has her shit together. Not sure it works, but, hey.
The door to my room remains unlocked, so I step into the hallway, half-expecting to find an armed guard, but it’s empty.
As I make my way toward the stairs, I pass others coming out of their rooms. They look sleepy but oddly normal. Not scared, not traumatized, just regular academy students heading to an assembly.
What the hell?
I descend the main staircase, my body tense. But the lobby is exactly as it always is. No blood on the walls. No battle damage. No guards. Just students milling about, some checking phones, others chatting in low morning voices.
Did I hallucinate yesterday? Am I losing my mind?
Then I spot two men in black suits standing by the entrance doors. I’ve never seen them before, and they're not wearing anything to indicate who they are, but their posture screams security. Their eyes track the students, and when their gaze lands on me, they both straighten slightly. One murmurs something, and goes back to scanning the crowd.
Okay, not crazy then.
I follow the crowd, trying to notice everything I can. The academy looks completely untouched. But there are subtle differences, like a few unfamiliar faces and the absence of certain familiar ones. Professor Winn is nowhere to be seen. Neither is Doc Fennel.
The new people are all wearing black, with the same polite, bland expression. They look more like corporate executives than teachers.
It almost looks like the takeover by the Blood Moon Coven wasn't violent at all. It was a bloodless merger. A fucking acquisition.
The doors of the Great Hall stand open wide. Inside, rows of chairs have been placed in front of a podium on the stage, flanked by flowers and banners. The banners no longer have the silver symbol of the Crescent Moon Coven—instead, they bear a full blood-red moon.
Students file in, chatting and finding seats like this is just another day, another assembly. A few give me looks. But no one seems particularly concerned that we've been overtaken by an enemy coven overnight. Not that the Crescent Moon Coven wasn’t my enemy. It most definitely was. Everyone else had seemed to be happy with them, though.
Fucking hell. This is insane.
I scan the room, looking for familiar faces. My heart jumps to my throat when I spot a flash of dark hair in my peripheral vision, but it's just another student. No sign of Drake. Or Lucien. Or Soren. Or anyone from the Crescent Moon Coven, for that matter.
There's a small commotion at the side entrance, and a group of well-dressed adults enters. They look like board members arriving for a quarterly review, not witches. Some hold champagne flutes. A few are actually laughing.
I feel sick. This isn't what a coup is supposed to look like. There should be resistance, chaos, protests, not a champagne breakfast and corporate reorganization.
I take my seat, trying to make myself as small and invisible as possible. Students around me are chatting about weekend plans and upcoming exams like we're not in the middle of a hostile takeover. Either they're all idiots and have no idea what's happening, or they don’t care. I'm betting on the latter.
A hush falls over the crowd as the lights dim slightly and soft classical music begins to play. Are we at a school assembly or a product launch? The stage lighting shifts, creating a dramatic spotlight on the podium. Someone has clearly been watching too many TED Talks.
She appears from stage right, a tall, imposing woman with silver-streaked red hair and the kind of face that probably hasn't smiled genuinely in decades. Her black dress is impeccably tailored to her slim figure, and she walks with the confidence of someone who's never had to apologize for taking up space.
"Helena Wickersly," murmurs a girl beside me, sounding impressed. "My mom knew her."
