Bloodbound to the Witch Heir: Claimed By Four

Atlas’ POV

*****

The Beach house, 8:22 AM

As he stirred the bubbling pot of chicken sauce he was preparing, a smile stretched his lips despite himself.

Last night still felt like a fever dream. Every single second of it.

How he and the others went from playing a childish game to partaking in a heated sexual activity that his ancestors would probably frown upon was beyond even him.

And Celeste—

—Finally, they kissed.

Not just that.

He got to see her bare and vulnerable in ways he wouldn’t have imagined a week ago.

Remembering the look in her eyes when she took him into her mouth made him bite his bottom lip. "You just keep changing me with every new trial."

Shaking his head, he pulled out the big spoon in the pot, patting some drops on his palm. One lick made him nod with satisfaction.

Perfection!

"What it needs now is some calming spices," he dusted his hands down his apron, searching for his phone.

When he found the device, he sent Luther a text to get him some herbs and spices. They might think he was going to make potions. But those ingredients, once added to the sauce, would stabilise Celeste.

That’s if she was shaken at all from what happened last night.

After sending the text, he moved to the kitchen island, arranging the plates they’d need for breakfast. He was just about to pick out fruits for a morning smoothie when the lights above flickered.

Just once. Yet enough to catch his attention and make him pause.

Blinking slowly at the bulbs, he noticed a shift in the air. Subtle but present.

"That’s... Odd..." He remarked, glancing at the kitchen entrance.

There was no one there.

Could Celeste be having a magic fluctuation? Or could he be sensing things wrongly?

"Spirits," he shook his head, dismissing it. "This is why we need those grounding spices."

Atlas picked some fresh mangoes and diced them. Then some pineapples and bananas. He poured them into a blender, snapping his fingers to activate it.

Nothing.

Chills crawled down his spine when his spell to turn on the blender didn’t work. His eyes dimmed, sweat slicking down his forehead. "Didn’t I just—?"

Like nothing happened to begin with, the blender started with a jerk. The kitchen lights flickered erratically this time, forcing Atlas to raise his right hand.

Was this his doing?

Puzzled, he decided to test himself.

A flick of his wrist made a spoon levitate from the kitchen island, settling directly between his waiting fingers. He followed that with a small squeeze, transforming the spoon from a silver one to pure gold.

Another squeeze turned it to water, making it trickle down his hand before floating back to the island and shifting back into its original form.

"Well," Atlas smirked, "I guess that was just my nerves." 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

Despite saying that, deep down he still thought differently.

He couldn’t recall the last time his magic failed so tremendously with a simple spell because of ’nerves’.

The smoothie seemed to be getting ready, leading him to grab a box of milk from the freezer. He was about to pour some in when—

—cold pricked his fingertips like frostbite, sharp and painful.

Atlas gasped, dropping the milk box. He watched with horror as the thing got covered with frost before hitting the ground.

This... This was no mere magic malfunction.

Before he could process things or move an inch, more magical anomalies rattled the kitchen simultaneously.

Flames burst out of the stoves even though they weren’t on. The lights flickered more wildly. Shadows crept over the walls, a few jars shattering and spilling their contents onto the kitchen.

Reacting quickly, Atlas clutched his sapphire necklace. "I call upon the protection of the spirits!"

That didn’t work at all.

Instead, with everything happening, the bond slammed a plethora of emotions into him. From Celeste.

He doubled over, grabbing his chest when pain followed those emotions. Of course.

This was Celeste’s magic exploding through him!

"Celeste?!" He thundered, more worried than upset. "Is everything alright?"

Gods, it wasn’t.

After getting a hold of himself, he bolted out of the kitchen. Upon getting to the stairs, he noticed how the lights there flickered out of control as well.

He ignored the railings, rushing upstairs with everything in him.

Why wasn’t she rubbing his bracelet to summon him if she was in trouble? Was she... Was she unconscious? Or gods forbid—worse?

"Azrael?!" He boomed when he got to the hallway, tightening his fists when he saw the darkness spreading on the walls. "Can you feel—"

Vaelmont burst out of the room they all slept in last night, immediately whipping his head to him. "I sensed it too."

Now that meant trouble.

Both men rushed to Celeste’s room door, Azrael banging once when he got there. "Little miss?"

Atlas almost bumped into him, fingers spreading across the door. "Her magic is all over the place right now. She might need containment."

"Containment?" Azrael snarled. "What in the nine hells do you mean by that?"

Without giving a response, Atlas’s eyes fluttered shut. Other than being able to summon him, his bracelet could also let him monitor her.

Hopefully she didn’t—gods below.

She wasn’t wearing it.

"She’s not responding." Azrael took a single step back. "I’m about to break this door down, Celeste!"

The second he said that, he sent a kick straight at the door. Atlas jolted with surprise when it crumbled into splinters, letting them see inside.

At that same moment, the flickering lights and dropping temperature ceased. Everything went back to normal faster than it even started.

Except for one thing.

Celeste stood in front of her vanity mirror, slowly spinning her head to them. She was naked. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she sputtered. "I–I didn’t mean to. I don’t know what’s... What’s happening to..."

Her words trailed off as light died in her eyes.

"Celeste!" Azrael moved in a blur before she collapsed, grabbing her firmly.

Atlas moved as well, already preparing spells and praying mentally. ’Don’t let anything happen to her. Please.’