Bloodbound to the Witch Heir: Claimed By Four

Atlas’ POV

*****

"Is this some kind of joke?" Luther broke the silence after Lysandra’s mind-boggling reveal. "Your mother? The same woman you told me died years ago when you were a kid—helped with your spell?"

As the others peered at her for answers, Atlas’s mind naturally began skimming through possibilities.

Indeed, what Lysandra was saying was impossible.

Unless her "dead" mother was somehow communing with her from the afterlife. Or she faked her death all those years ago. Or... The more disturbing possibility...

An entity or someone powerful was impersonating her. Well enough to deceive a hybrid daughter of an Alpha King.

"See?" Lysandra laughed bitterly, taking two steps away from them. "This is why I didn’t want to tell you. None of you," her head spun, eyes sweeping past her clueless friends as well, "will believe me. You’ll all look at me like I’m crazy."

Her voice broke toward the end.

For a split second, Atlas felt some kind of sympathy blooming in his chest.

He knew what it was like dealing with the loss of a lost or dead parent. Once upon a time, he tried using his magic to create near-perfect illusions of his father.

"Can you all just..." Celeste raised her hands just then, blinking hard. "... Take a breather for a second. Go through this slowly and explain."

She tilted her head at Lysandra. "You’re telling me you cast a love spell. On my then-boyfriend. And now you’re bringing up your dead mother to what?" A scoff. "Make us feel some demented pity for you?"

Lysandra scowled. "The last thing I need is your pity."

"No," Celeste shook her head, cheeks flaring red with anger. "What you fucking need is a leash! You’re insane, Lysandra!"

The temperature dropped instantly.

Magic burst from both women, Celeste’s surging like a storm building up while Lysandra’s was comparable to an active volcano—ready to erupt.

Just when he wanted to step in, Dean Thorne’s voice thundered calmly through the Expanse:

"Alright, everyone. That’s officially the end of the Blood Trials." He started. "Classes will continue as usual tomorrow morning."

A collective groan rippled from every angle.

"Aye!" The Dean hushed. "Portal gates are available at the Expanse’s entrance. Do well to use them, head back to your suites and get some shut-eye. Only those who participated will get the rest of tomorrow off."

Atlas’ lips quirked at that.

At least that’ll give him some time to check out the grimoire he was awarded.

But now... On to more pressing matters.

"We," he placed an arm in front of Celeste, blocking her from glaring at Lysandra, "should head back. So you can give us more details of your... Mother." 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

The Australian princess’s eyes hardened. "I believe I’ve said enough."

"I believe not, Lysandra." He muttered, calm as the evening breeze. "You WILL tell us all you know. Every detail too. Look around you." He gestured.

Celeste. Silas. Luther. And him—not counting Azrael and Willow who’d get word of all this too.

Which circled back to his point:

"You are outnumbered. Your little schemes are in the wind. And if you don’t want them blown beyond your control... You’d better tell us everything."

Hesitation, pride and shame all flickered at once in her stormy eyes. She was stubborn. He was persistent.

And Atlas Stormwood never quits.

"Ugh," she finally rolled her eyes. "Are any of you opening the freaking portal or am I?"

.

.

8:50pm, Alphas Haven

"I’m not supposed to let all of you in here." Silas pointed after opening the door, glancing back at the rest of them. "But only for tonight. We need somewhere private."

Everyone trooped into the dimly lit room, including Lysandra’s friends.

She insisted that’s the only way she’d feel safe enough to talk.

Luther allowed it and so did Atlas.

"Go through everything from the beginning." Atlas leaned against a desk, arms folded before his chest. He fixed his gaze on Lysandra while Silas and Celeste stayed close to the door. "Remember... Don’t leave any details."

Lysandra huffed. "You enjoy the control. Don’t you?"

Atlas didn’t flinch, eyes flicking to Luther who stood beside him. "I think you should know better how ’control’ feels. Lysandra."

Her jaw visibly tightened for a few seconds—until she let out a frustrated breath. "Well, all I said out there was true. Some time last year... My mother came to me in a dream."

Luther made a mocking sound. "Right."

"You can doubt it all you want, Luther." She didn’t back down, voice cracking again. "But it’s really the truth. You and Silas should know more than anyone how it feels to lose a parent."

It would’ve been a good time to point out he’d lost his father too. But Atlas kept quiet, scrutinising keenly as she continued.

"I’ve spent years living it," her tone grew firm. Confident. "I already accepted she was dead and gone years ago. So her appearing that night... It was real. The same way it was when she showed up physically."

Natasha and her other friends gasped, gawking like they’d heard heresy. "But... But why didn’t you ever tell us?"

"Really?" Lysandra tore her gaze away from them. "You girls would’ve looked at me like I was crazy. Maybe I am. But I KNOW she’s alive and has been coming to see me. To hear all my rants. My struggles. How much I miss her..."

More and more Atlas found himself empathising with her.

He hated it.

"When and how did she introduce the spell to you?" He mumbled, grip tightening on the desk behind him.

A forced breath left her lips. "At the beginning of this semester. I was sick of seeing Celeste having such a happy relationship with Luther." Her neck spun back to Celeste. "An Alpha. Stooping to date a wolfless hybrid who won’t even give him children of a strong bloodline."

From all the way here, Atlas could feel Celeste’s rage and agitation. Through the bond.

Still, she held herself back, resting her head on Silas’s shoulder. Seeing them together and expressing themselves so openly left an unpleasant aftertaste in Atlas.

Alas, he just had to be patient. For her.

"I wanted what she had," Lysandra lowered her head when she brought her face back to Atlas. "She heard my complaints and took them so seriously that night. That’s when she taught me the spell."

Night...?

"So she visits only at night?" He queried. "Or are there other requirements?"

Lysandra nodded. "She always appeared only when I felt distressed. I couldn’t summon her freely... Until," she paused, reaching into her pocket. She brought out a golden stopwatch, raising it above her. "Whenever the time strikes twelve, I can summon her by holding this and whispering her name."

Squinting, Atlas stretched out his hand.

The stopwatch telekinetically left Lysandra’s grip, making her eyes widen. "Hey! What are you—"

His glare was enough to hush her.

Upon grabbing the trinket, Atlas studied it closely.

A meeting that could only happen at the beginning of midnight. A mother willing to make her daughter tread dangerous magic to get what she wants.

Such a powerful witch should also have age on her side. Meaning she should know the risks—and persuade her daughter to only use such means as a last resort.

Or never.

’What an interesting mother figure...’ he thought to himself, chin lifting to meet her gaze again. "Tonight. Midnight... You will summon your mother."

Lysandra’s face darkened. "Are you out of your mind? What do you plan to do? She—"

"Trust me, Lysandra." His accent slipped, lips thinning. "I have a feeling. A dreadful one. And if my hypothesis is correct... Not just you but all of us might be at risk."

His warning made the atmosphere grim.

No one said a word or breathed too loudly for several seconds.

Then—

"What kind of risk?" Celeste asked from the door.

He gave her a narrowed look. "That’s what we’ll find out. Tonight."