Bloodbound to the Witch Heir: Claimed By Four

Celeste’s POV

*****

I squinted, struggling to see anything until the silver light cleared.

Silas still held onto my hand, his eyes opening as the room before us revealed itself. "It... It actually worked."

We stood in the centre of a luxurious living room, lit by a golden chandelier. Mounted on the north wall was a big-screen TV, a fireplace crackling underneath it.

There were also four black leather sofas and the floor itself was polished white marble with black spots swirled into beautiful shapes.

"This," My mouth fell, eyes flicking to Silas, "is your suite? You alone?"

This place had even more grandeur than Azrael’s suite—which was saying something.

"Why are you surprised?" He barely smirked, hands in his pocket. "I bet your mansion back home is far beyond anything this academy can offer anyway."

I arched a brow. "What is it with you and poking at my upbringing?"

He raised his hands in defeat, earning a stifled laugh from me. Then he grabbed my hand again, nodding toward an arched pathway to our right. "The bedrooms and bathrooms are that way."

Bedrooms? As in—plural?

Gods of Olympus, why was I suddenly feeling jealous? My suite only had one bedroom which I had to share with Willow. I mean, she’s a great roommate.

But STILL.

"Celeste?" His voice brought me out of my spiral. "Don’t you want to bathe?"

My cheeks flushed as I nodded too urgently. "S–Sure. Sorry, was just... Thinking about what we have to expect this midnight."

That wasn’t a complete lie. It was in the back of my head.

"Like Atlas said... We’ll find out when the time comes," Silas sounded so certain. "Would you... Want us to bathe together? It’s cool if—"

"I think," I tugged his hand till his head was inches away from my lips, "you’re talking way too much tonight."

I watched the last of his restraint disappear, a mischievous glint lighting his hazel eyes. He lifted me off the ground in a princess carry, making me giggle.

"Less talking and more action then." He grinned, spinning me around before bolting for the arched passage.

.

.

11:55 pm, Bloodoak Academy. Atlas’ suite.

Silas and I spent the rest of the time before midnight together. Alone. Enjoying each other’s company.

There was surprisingly no bathroom sex—instead, we spent time washing ourselves, paying attention to touch and sharing a few risky kisses that would’ve crossed lines if left long.

He was perfect. Maybe too perfect.

Perhaps I thought that way because I’ve spent so long trapped in a relationship with a man who was almost entirely the opposite of what Silas was. Or, maybe Luther’s betrayal has hardened my heart... Even if he was under a spell.

Whatever it was, I still felt this glimmer of hope that everything was shaping up into something wonderful.

Despite all the uncertainties.

"We’re here," I chirped as Atlas opened the door to his suite for Silas and me to walk in. "And I’m guessing everyone else is."

Compared to Silas’ space, Atlas’ was less flashy and more... Quiet.

Magic sparked in the air the instant I stepped into the living room, wards shifting and pulsing with energies across the white painted walls.

A spiralling purple lava lamp with a dim light was erected at the centre of the room—the magic beating from within telling me it wasn’t a mere light source.

But an energy source.

"Ah, Celeste." Atlas telekinetically shut the door behind Silas and me, standing across the room, close to the balcony door. "You guys are just in time."

The others—Luther, Lysandra and her friends—either sat on the fur-coated sofas around the room or stood with anxious expressions.

That latter description belonged to Lysandra. "I still don’t understand why they have to be here." She pointed at Silas and me with an agitated grunt. "All we need to do is summon my mother, question her true motives and be done with it. We... We don’t have to complicate—"

"Your talking is a futile attempt at stalling, Miss Carrington." Atlas yawned, flipping back his brown leather trench coat. "Celeste and Silas know about this. Not to mention your mother’s spell affected someone they both care about."

At the mention of that, my gaze trailed to Luther. He sat on a sofa, a glass of some liquor dangling lazily from his right hand.

Luther didn’t glance for even a second, sulking and taking occasional sips from his drink. Through the bond I could feel how torn his mind was.

Not surprising after everything we’ve discovered tonight.

"You told Willow not to worry about you, right?" Silas whispered, making me whip my neck back to him. "We don’t want distractions during the summoning."

I smiled at his thoughtfulness. "I texted her on our way here. Don’t worry." My thumb caressed his knuckle gently, eyes locking with his.

Then—

CLINK!

The sharp sound of a glass cup dropping on a table made me turn my head back to Luther. He got on his feet, blue orbs flashing with something I couldn’t name before he placed focus on Atlas.

"Can we get this over with now?" He queried, tone flat. "We’re all here."

Atlas raised a finger, pointing at an old clock on the wall behind him.

Eleven fifty-nine. And ticking.

"In the meantime," he coughed, pulling out the golden stopwatch Lysandra handed him back in the Alpha Heirs Haven. "You know the summoning ritual. Perform it there when the clock strikes twelve."

He pointed at the large lava lamp.

I didn’t notice at first but there was a magic circle drawn with black chalk around the lamp, and runic symbols were also added in.

"Black?" Lysandra frowned with suspicion. "Isn’t that meant for warding off or containing spirits or beings with malevolent intent?"

There was a brief pause. Then, "You really are acquainted with your witch roots," Atlas mumbled, more bored than impressed. "Good."

Lysandra’s black hair blew across her face, magic threatening to burst. "You want me to summon my mother so you can seal her like some—"

"If she’s not malevolent it will be harmless." Atlas took a step forward, his expression ice cold. "Just go according to plan—remember all I said will happen if you disappoint."

His words were effortlessly daunting.

With a heavy sigh, Lysandra dragged in the direction of the magic circle. At the same time, Atlas’ clock finally reached twelve, ringing with a soft chime.

She stood in the circle, one arm raised and clutching the stopwatch. Her other rested beside her, fingers curled with nervousness. "I... I stand here before you with this object representing my bond to you. Come to me, mother."

I frowned.

Was that it?

Why was I low-key expecting some ancient incantations or—

Instantly, a powerful gust of wind blew open the balcony door. The lava lamp flickered, shifting from purple to a darker shade that made me take a couple of steps back, my grip on Silas’ hand constricting.

"Is it working?!" I yelled out.

Lysandra turned to me, her jaw ajar as she backed away from the circle. "I... This has never happened the other times I summoned her."

Shit.

Within the next couple of seconds, the lava lamp died down. Darkness swallowed the room for another few seconds—then the light came back on.

Revealing a figure that made my eyes widen.