"Step back," a woman's voice rang out, firm and clear. "This is on me."
Elena's red hair whipped in the angry wind. Her narrowed green eyes gleamed with resolve. "His soul is taking over," she warned, voice low but urgent.
Elias stepped aside—but not far from Catherine. He raked a hand through his hair, eyes flicking to Elena. "What do we do?"
It had taken a struggle to bring Elena here. The witch had followed him—not because she forgave him for what happened, but because loyalty still bound her after all these years. And despite the blame she carried in her eyes, she came. That mattered more than anything.
"Nothing. Not yet."
Elena drew a handful of red beans from her pouch and scattered them over Catherine. The soul shrieked, a piercing cry that cut through the wind. Catherine's eyes flared with a blazing light, unearthly and furious.
"We can only hold the soul back. Until we find a way to end this for good."
She threw another round of beans. The soul let out a guttural growl and staggered back, its rage filling the air like a storm about to break.
"But it's too dangerous!" Elias snapped. Each sound of Catherine's suffering felt like a knife twisting in his chest. "There has to be another way!"
Elena shot him a flat look, cold and tire, "there isn't."
"I thought you'd never come. I almost broke my spine getting you out of that cottage." Elias paced the room, flinching every time Catherine growled.
"Hmm." Elena's eyes narrowed. "The soul is stubborn."
"But it's not beyond you." Panic edged into Elias's voice as his gaze darted between the red-haired witch and Catherine.
"It's not just the soul... it's her." Elena pointed at Catherine, shook her head, and dropped her woolen bag onto the floor. "She holds him in her heart. That's his strength."
She pulled out an incense stick, circled her fingers over it, and a wisp of blue flame flickered to life.
Elias stepped back, his eyes tight with worry, "what are you talking about?"
"The human," Elena said, rising without sparing him a glance, "still holds his love in her heart. As long as he clings to that thread, it'll be hard to move his spirit."
She blew gently on the flame, sending it dancing forward, swirling around Catherine, "for now... I can suppress it. But it might awaken again."
Catherine let out a growl, the sound rumbling through the floor like distant thunder. The ground trembled beneath their feet. Then her head dipped, and a low, dark laugh spilled from her lips.
"She'll never be free of me."
She lifted her head, hazel glints flashing in her eyes, "I'm a part of her she'll never forget."
She clapped her hands once, striding through the storm. Her eyes locked on Elena, sharp and unyielding, "Your little magic won't release my soul." A twisted smile played on her lips.
The bitter scent of burning incense filled the air as Elena moved her hands in tight circles, chanting without pause. She thrust the blue flame toward Catherine. Each time it struck, Catherine's body shuddered, a low growl tearing from her throat.
"Stop it!" Catherine's voice rose, the command like a crack of lightning.
The sound snapped through the room. Elena stumbled back, her feet scraping against the floor, and she slammed against the wall.
"You'll never get her. She's mine!" The soul's voice boomed, followed by hysterical laughter that echoed like a curse.
"Hold her down!" Elena shouted.
Elias, jolted from his stunned daze, rushed toward Catherine without thinking.
He grabbed her wrist. She looked up at him, lips curving into a wicked smile.
"Hello, handsome vampire. We meet again."
"I'll make sure you get out of her... and rot in hell." Elias's voice dripped with an icy venom that could freeze a soul.
"The irony in your words," the voice mocked, low and cruel. "You should be the one rotting in hell. Soon she'll know the truth — that you killed me for your selfish desires."
Elias flinched. The words hit home, guilt clawing at his chest. He couldn't deny it. The day would come when Catherine learned everything, and it would haunt him.
I didn't mean to kill you, he wanted to say, to plead for understanding. But he knew no apology would ever ease Catherine's pain once the truth surfaced. All he could do now was cling to what little chance he had left.
Elena began her incantations again, lowering herself onto the floor. She sat cross-legged, hands clasped tightly, lips moving in fervent prayer. The sharp scent of incense thickened in the air.
She rubbed her palms together, and this time, blue and red flames mingled and shot toward Catherine's chest. Catherine staggered, but Elias's strong hands kept her steady, holding her down as the flames struck.
"No!" the soul growled, clawing at Elias, struggling to break free of his iron grip. Yet, as the witch commanded, he held her fast.
At last, she stilled. Her body slumped in his arms, breath ragged and spent. Elias exhaled, the weight of the moment heavy upon him. The first trial was done.
Gently, as though cradling a child, he bore her to the bed and laid her down. He drew the coverlet up to her chest, hands lingering a moment upon the fabric. Before he could rise, Elena was at his side, silent as shadow.
She studied Catherine's face, her green eyes narrowed, voice low and grave.
"She will learn the truth — that you are the one who slew him. And she will hate you for it. Are you yet prepared to bear that burden? Is she truly worth such ruin?"
Elias seated himself upon the edge of the bed. He took Catherine's small, cold hand in his own, rubbing it gently, as if to warm away her exhaustion. His gaze lingered on her pale face, so delicate in its weariness.
"Yes," he said, voice firm, though quiet. "She is worth it."
He lowered his head, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles.
"For a hundred years, I have not lived. Not truly. Save for this moment."
Elena's lips pouted. "Sucks that you gave up Nharion for it."
"No." He shook his head, then turned to her with a bitter smile. "I did not give up on it. I merely left... to survive."
"Oh, very well." Elena's lips curved, though her eyes betrayed no humor. "Do you think your people are content, living under Lenore's rule?"
She sighed and reached out, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.
"I want to hate you for what happened. It ruined me... ruined most of us."
She withdrew her hand, folding her arms over her chest as she stepped back.
"I only hope, when all of this is over, that you return to your place — to your people. They still need you."
Red smoke coiled around her like a serpent. In the blink of an eye, she was gone.
Silence fell over the room, heavy as sorrow. Elias's heart ached beneath its weight.
"You will hate me," he whispered, brushing a thumb over Catherine's cheek. "But I pray it will not be because you no longer wish to be with me."
His lips trembled, and after all those months of searching, he at last did the one thing he had always feared: he bent low, breath unsteady, and pressed a trembling kiss to her mouth.
It was the lightest of kisses, yet it sent warmth flooding through his heart.
"I am sorry," he whispered, voice thick with sorrow. "That you must endure pain once more... because of me."
Elias's gaze drifted to the window, where moonlight spilled across the floor in pale ribbons.
"I shall remain here until the break of dawn," he murmured, turning back to her. Only the sound of her gentle breathing answered him.
"But until then... I hope you will let me hold you."
No storm rose in fury that night, no violent wind beat at the walls. The soul, it seemed, had been subdued — for now. But for how long? Elias's heart weighed heavy with the question.
He knew he had but little time. His heart raced at the thought of Goerge's soul taking over.
His gaze shifted to the clock upon the bedside table. Its hands stood frozen at midnight.
"You thought of me," he said softly. "Perhaps... it is a good thing. Perhaps at last, I shall be free."