Witches Chronicles

Chapter 6:

Willow's pov

As soon as I stepped through the front door, I locked it behind me, twisting the deadbolt so hard I thought I might snap it off. I stood there for a moment, leaning against the wooden frame, my heart still racing from the drive with Emmet. The house was quiet—too quiet—but that was exactly what I needed after the chaos of the party.

I pressed my forehead against the cool surface of the door, trying to slow my breathing. Something about Emmet felt wrong. It wasn’t just the fact that he was Jace’s brother—it was everything else. The way he smiled, the way he seemed to know exactly what to say to make me uneasy, but also intrigued. But it wasn’t just unease. There was something... off. He looked at me like he knew something I didn’t, like he had secrets he couldn’t wait to share.

And Jace… Jace had been furious when Emmet showed up. Whatever was between them, it was bigger than just sibling rivalry. That much was obvious.

I didn’t even have Jace’s number to check on him, to make sure everything was okay. I cursed under my breath, wishing I’d had the nerve to ask for it earlier. My stomach twisted, anxiety gnawing at me. Something was wrong, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. The pieces didn’t fit, and I hated that I didn’t have more answers.

The shrill ring of my phone cut through the silence, making me jump. I fumbled with it for a second before seeing Layla’s name on the screen. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Hey,” I answered, my voice shakier than I meant it to be.

“Did you get home okay?” Layla asked, her voice filled with concern. “You didn’t text.”

“Yeah, I’m home,” I said, moving away from the door and into the kitchen. The familiar smell of herbs—Grams’ constant remedy for everything—lingered in the air, calming me slightly. “I’m fine.”

There was a pause, like she didn’t believe me. “You sure? That whole scene back at the party was… weird.”

I ran a hand through my hair, leaning against the counter. “You’re telling me. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. Did they ever figure out what happened to that girl?”

“That’s the thing,” Layla said, her voice lowering like she was sharing a secret. “Lyle told the paramedics she was attacked by a dog. But, Willow, Lyle doesn’t have a dog.”

My fingers tightened around the phone. “Wait, what? That makes no sense. I saw the bite. It looked like an animal attack.”

“Exactly.” Layla sounded just as confused as I felt. “How does someone get attacked by a dog in a house where there isn’t one?”

I tried to make sense of it, but the more I thought about it, the less it added up. “Did anyone else see anything? Like, was there a stray dog that got inside or something?”

“No one saw anything. One second, she was fine, and the next, she was bleeding all over the place.” Layla paused, her voice quiet. “It’s just… strange.”

Strange didn’t even begin to cover it. My mind raced back to the image of the girl clutching her neck, the blood seeping between her fingers. It felt surreal, like something out of a nightmare. And then there was Emmet, who had shown up right after it happened. Too convenient. Too coincidental.

“Yeah, it is,” I muttered. “Something about all of this doesn’t feel right.”

Before Layla could respond, I heard the creak of the floorboards behind me. I whipped around, my heart leaping into my throat, only to see Grams standing in the doorway, her eyes soft but weary.

“Hey, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I told Layla quickly, trying to keep my voice steady. “Text me when you’re up.”

“Sure thing. Night, Willow.”

“Night.” I hung up and slipped the phone into my pocket, my heart still pounding as I turned to Grams. She looked older tonight, more tired than usual, like something had been weighing on her.

“You gave me a fright,” I said, trying to force a smile. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

Grams chuckled softly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I could say the same. You were lost in thought.”

I shrugged, though my shoulders felt tense. “It’s been a long night.”

Grams studied me for a moment, her brow furrowing slightly. “You’re different tonight. You have a glow about you.”

“A glow?” I laughed, but it came out awkward. “I’m just tired.”

“Mm.” Grams walked slowly into the kitchen, her fingers grazing the counter as if steadying herself. “Has my granddaughter met a boy?”

I opened my mouth to deny it, but the look on her face made me pause. “I mean, there’s someone. I don’t really know him that well, though.”

Grams’ expression shifted from amused to something darker. “His name wouldn’t happen to be Jace, would it?”

I blinked, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. “How do you know that?”

Her eyes, normally warm and full of wisdom, clouded with something I couldn’t quite place—something close to fear. “Willow, listen to me carefully. You must never invite Jace—or his brother—into this house. Do you understand?”

I frowned, my heart beating faster. “Grams, what are you talking about? Jace isn’t—he’s not like that. He’s… good.”

Grams sighed heavily, shaking her head. “Some things aren’t what they seem. There are monsters that walk among us, hiding in plain sight. You’ve been sheltered from this for a long time, but now... now you’re standing at the edge of a very dangerous world.”

Her words sent a chill down my spine. “Monsters? What kind of monsters?”

She met my gaze, her expression serious. “The kind that wear human faces. The kind that can charm their way into your life if you’re not careful.”

My chest tightened. “You’re talking about Emmet, aren’t you?”

Grams didn’t respond right away, but the look in her eyes said enough. She knew something about them—about both of them—that I didn’t. Something important. Something dangerous.

“You need to trust your instincts, Willow,” Grams said softly. “They’ll guide you when everything else is uncertain.”

I wanted to ask her more, to demand she explain what she meant, but the exhaustion in her eyes held me back. She looked like she was carrying the weight of the world on her frail shoulders, and I didn’t want to add to it.

“You’re staying too late at the shop,” I said instead, forcing a gentle smile. “You need rest.”

Grams nodded, but I could tell her mind was still elsewhere. “Maybe you’re right.”

I watched as she turned and disappeared down the hall, the sound of her footsteps fading until the house was quiet again. I stood there for a moment, staring at the space she’d just left, my mind spinning with everything she’d said.

Never invite Jace inside. Monsters that walked among us. Trust my instincts.

I swallowed hard, trying to push the rising panic down. My instincts were screaming at me that something was wrong, that something bigger was happening than I understood. But I didn’t have the full picture yet.

Not knowing what else to do, I dragged myself upstairs, my body heavy with exhaustion. The moment I hit the bed, I could feel my muscles unwind, but my mind wouldn’t stop racing. Grams’ words echoed in my head like a mantra, tangling with everything that had happened tonight—Emmet’s sudden appearance, Jace’s anger, the girl at the party, the flashes of danger in the corner of my vision.

I tossed and turned, sleep eluding me as the same thoughts circled endlessly. When I finally drifted off, it was anything but peaceful.

The dream came again.

Snakes, slithering through the darkness. Twisting, coiling, always watching. Their tongues flicked in and out, tasting the air, waiting for something—or someone.

Then, the numbers. They flashed before my eyes, too quick to grasp fully, but seared into my mind all the same. Numbers that didn’t make sense. Numbers that felt... important, though I didn’t know why.

The image shifted, and suddenly, there were eyes. Piercing, cold blue eyes. Emmet’s eyes, staring straight through me, into me. He was there, always there, lurking in the shadows of my mind. But this time, there was more. More than just the snakes. More than the numbers.

A vault. Old, dark, covered in dust. I could see it, standing there in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by darkness. The missing numbers flashed before me again, then fire. Flames consuming everything in sight, swallowing the vault, the snakes, the eyes.

Then blood. So much blood. It dripped down from unseen places, pooling at my feet, staining my hands.

Monsters, with faces I recognized but couldn’t place. They watched me, hungry, their eyes gleaming with malice.

And then—nothing.

I woke with a start, gasping for air, my heart pounding in my chest. The room was bathed in early morning light, the soft chirping of birds filtering in through the window. For a moment, I didn’t move, too shaken by the dream, by the images that still clung to my mind like cobwebs.

My alarm was blaring beside me, and I reached over to silence it with a shaky hand. Sweat clung to my skin, my hair damp against the pillow. I took a deep breath, trying to calm the frantic beating of my heart.

But Grams’ words kept echoing in my mind.

There are monsters that walk among us.

I wasn’t sure if she was right about that. But after everything that had happened last night—and everything in my dreams—I couldn’t shake the feeling that she might be.