Bloodbound to the Witch Heir: Claimed By Four

Celeste’s POV

*****

"Is that her?"

"Everyone stay back and calm!"

"Lysandra, get away from there!"

Shouts and conflicted sentences were thrown around Atlas’ living room as we all stared at the person Lysandra’s summoning had brought to us.

A tall woman donned in a simple-looking white cashmere trench coat. She had lush and long brown hair falling down her shoulders, stormy eyes a reflection of her daughter.

This was a spitting image of Lysandra. Just looked older by a decade or so.

Yet—something felt awfully wrong.

"M–Mom?" Even Lysandra sounded uncertain, blinking at her mother like she hadn’t been summoning and speaking to her for several nights. "This... You feel different."

The older woman’s lips remained thin and unmoving. Until they raised into a broad, almost uncanny smirk. "Why, of course, daughter. Because this time you brought..."

She paused, sharp eyes sweeping past every face present. Including mine, "... Friends? I had to come prepared and distinct just in case."

I didn’t understand what the fuck she was saying. And I freaking hated it.

Fortunately, it seemed I wasn’t the only one who loathed being kept in the dark.

"Enough of this," Atlas thundered, magic carrying his voice as he stepped toward Lysandra and her mother. "If you haven’t noticed, this isn’t the usual spot your ’daughter’ summons you. That’s if she’s even yours."

Lysandra’s face twisted, head snapping back. "What are you talking about? She’s—"

"Reveal yourself." Atlas pushed, his golden eyes flaring. "Say it in the presence of everyone here. Who or what are you truly? And what do you want with Lysandra and the rest of us?"

As he spoke, the magic circle around the lava lamp glowed with a black light. The lamp itself bubbled unnaturally, intense light rays shooting out with runes.

The woman within the circle, however—was barely fazed, merely tilting her head.

"Containment magic." She chuckled. "Impressive, young witch. Yet I’m curious what you hoped to achieve against someone you clearly can’t even begin to fathom."

I swallowed, turning to Atlas.

He reacted quickly, flicking his right wrist forward. "I compel you under the eyes of the spirits. Answer my questions."

A brighter, more pressing light flashed within the magic circle and across the lava lamp just then. The air trembled and even Lysandra was forced to back up more away from her mother—

—Or whatever this person truly was.

"The spirits," the woman’s tone was mocking. "Interesting beings to ground your magic in. Most witches would rely solely on themselves—or gods."

Her right hand rose slowly, fingers spread out.

From the confused expression on Atlas’ face, I could tell this was NOT supposed to be happening.

"Get ready for anything," Silas warned, drawing closer to me. "This could turn ugly really quick."

Goddess, he didn’t even need to tell me.

"Enough!" Atlas sneered, stretching a hand forward and clenching it into a fist. Golden light pulsed out in waves, sending strong gusts of wind that forced me to stare through narrowed eyes.

Then—he began chanting in a tongue I couldn’t understand, voice distorting.

Chains erupted out of nothing around the woman, wrapping around her arms, waist, and legs. She fell to her knees, her former smugness changing into something more serious.

And dangerous.

"Answer my questions," Atlas repeated when he was done chanting. "Who are you?"

She didn’t change the look in her eyes but responded calmly. "I am she who not only touched death and night... But forged them into my will."

Riddles?

Welp, we’re going to be here all night at this rate.

"M–Mother?" Lysandra spoke this time, voice tinged with pain. "Are you... Are you telling me you were never my mother? You’ve been pretending all this while?"

This time, a grin cracked across the woman’s face. "Foolish child. You were merely a tool. Your purpose has been completed—and although I commend your power, you were never the main objective."

Chills crawled down my spine instantly.

It was all beginning to make sense in some twisted way. And equally, I felt like I knew who her main objective was—

When her head angled toward me, my fears were confirmed.

Me.

"Celeste Bloodoak," her voice echoed in my mind and around us simultaneously. "Child of chaos. You’ve felt the shift too, haven’t you?"

I shook my head, staring anxiously at Lysandra and her friends who hurdled together. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Of course, you do." She was persistent. "And soon you’ll understand it more. And what your purpose is when the time comes."

Lysandra—who was still recovering from the revelation that this person was wearing her mother’s face—soon shook her head. Her arms spread out, fingers sparkling with blue light.

"You’re... You’re choosing her?" She questioned, giving me a bitter look before whipping it back to her. "Over me?"

At this point, the pressure in the room was thick enough to break glass.

Something disastrous was about to happen.

"Not the brightest pea in the pod, huh?" The woman met Lysandra’s maddening gaze. "I am not your mother, girl. She died just like you originally thought. And you’re still the little brat who has always been driven by petty emotions."

That was the final bolt holding back the gates of hell itself.

With a roar, Lysandra swiped her right hand at the woman, too fast for even Atlas to react.

BOOM!

An explosion of blue light seared out of the spot where the woman was. Cracks spread across the lava lamp, smoke and dust billowing into the living room.

Silence.

Air slipped past my mouth in breathless huffs, my eyes locked on that spot. Until the smoke cleared—showing nothing but the chains and broken lava lamp. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

She’s gone?!

"Prepare thyself!" Her voice cracked through the room, echoing from every corner. I jolted, readying my magic. "Children of Bloodoak. This world is about to experience a reckoning unlike any it’s seen in millennia. And your little school is going to be at the very centre."

There was no dramatic light show or anything else after that.

Only a suffocating quiet that stretched through the living room as everyone processed all that transpired.

Especially me.

’Child of chaos?’ her words echoed in my head, making me shiver. ’What does that even mean?’