Witches Chronicles

Chapter 7:

Willow's pov

I slammed my locker door shut, still half-asleep from tossing and turning all night. My dreams had been filled with fire, snakes, and Emmet’s piercing blue eyes. Grams’ warnings kept circling in my head, making it impossible to get a decent night’s rest. But now, back in the hallways of Glen Haven High, the familiar hum of students and lockers clattering felt like a temporary relief.

Until I turned around and nearly collided with Jace.

I gasped, startled by how silently he’d appeared. “God, Jace, you scared me.”

He flashed me that lopsided smile, the one that made my heart skip a beat. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

I clutched my books tighter against my chest, still recovering from the mini heart attack. “It’s okay. You’ve got a habit of showing up out of nowhere, you know that?”

“Old habits,” he said with a shrug, his eyes soft as they met mine. “How are you holding up after last night?”

I raised an eyebrow, remembering the chaos at Lyle’s party. “I should be asking you that. What happened with your granddad? You looked so upset when you left.”

Jace’s expression tightened, just for a second, before he gave me a reassuring nod. “He had an accident. Fell off a ladder, but he’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

There was something off in the way he said it, like he was brushing it aside too quickly. My instincts told me not to push, but I couldn’t help it. “Are you sure? That doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“I’m sure,” he said, his voice steady but not exactly convincing. “He’s fine now. Just a scare, that’s all.”

“Okay…” I nodded slowly, though I didn’t believe him. But before I could dig any deeper, I remembered something. “Did you hear about the attack at the party? Some girl got bitten by a dog—at least, that’s what Lyle said, but he doesn’t even have a dog.”

Jace’s brow furrowed slightly, his reaction just a little too slow to be genuine. “A dog attack?”

“Yeah,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. “But it didn’t make sense. The bite looked… weird. And no one saw any dog.” I watched his face carefully, looking for a sign that he knew more than he was letting on. For a second, I thought I saw a flicker of something—worry? Recognition?—but he covered it up with a quick smile.

“Well, that sounds strange,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction. “I’m sure it’ll get sorted out.”

I wanted to press him, but the warning from Grams—Trust your instincts, Willow—kept me cautious. Something wasn’t right, but if Jace wasn’t ready to talk, pushing him wouldn’t get me any closer to the truth.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of history notes and Layla’s never-ending cheerleading drama. I sat with her, Evie, and Dan during lunch, the four of us talking about everything and nothing all at once. Dan was unusually quiet, though, probably still shaken up from seeing that girl at the party last night. Layla and Evie were dissecting the details, trying to make sense of it all.

“I just don’t get it,” Layla said, picking at her salad. “Lyle says it was a dog, but we were inside the house. How does a dog get inside without anyone noticing?”

Evie shrugged, more interested in her phone than the conversation. “Maybe it was a werewolf,” she teased, laughing at her own joke.

Dan shot her a look, clearly not in the mood. “There was a lot of blood, Evie. It wasn’t funny.”

Evie’s smile faded. “Sorry, Dan. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” he muttered, glancing down at his tray.

I exchanged a glance with Layla, who gave me a small shrug. The whole thing felt off, but without any real answers, all we could do was speculate. By the time the final bell rang, my mind was buzzing with more questions than ever, none of which I had answers to.

The sun was starting to dip below the horizon by the time I left school, and the crisp autumn air brushed against my skin as I started the walk home. My usual route took me past the old abandoned church—one of my favorite spots in Glen Haven, mostly because it felt like it belonged to another time. I’d sketched it more times than I could count, the cracked stone walls and ivy-covered windows making it both haunting and beautiful.

Today, though, something felt different. The air around me was thick with something I couldn’t quite place—unease, maybe? A heaviness that sat just beneath the surface, making every sound feel sharper, every shadow a little too dark. The voice in my head, the one I usually ignored, was screaming at me to run, to get home as fast as I could.

I glanced over my shoulder, half-expecting to see someone there. No one. But the feeling didn’t go away.

I quickened my pace, cutting across the patch of trees behind the church, trying to shake the creeping paranoia. But that feeling—that pull—only grew stronger, like something, or someone, was following me. I could almost hear footsteps, soft but steady, keeping pace with mine. My heart pounded faster, the urge to run building in my chest.

I turned to look again, and that’s when it happened. My foot caught on a root, sending me sprawling onto the ground, my hands scraping against the dirt. The breath rushed out of me, and I scrambled to get up, my head spinning. When I finally managed to push myself to my feet, he was there.

Emmet.

Standing in front of me, smirking like he’d just watched the whole thing unfold. His dark hair framed those dangerously blue eyes, his leather jacket catching the fading sunlight.

“Looks like you’ve seen a ghost, Willow,” he said, his voice smooth and full of amusement.

I let out a shaky breath, my heart still racing. “I thought… I thought someone was following me.”

He stepped closer, his smirk softening into something more like curiosity. “And here I am. Guess it wasn’t just your imagination.”

I crossed my arms, trying to hide the fact that I was still catching my breath. “What are you doing here?”

Emmet shrugged, his eyes never leaving mine. “Taking a walk. Glen Haven’s not exactly brimming with excitement, you know. Figured I’d check out the scenery.”

I wasn’t buying it, but I didn’t have the energy to argue. “How’s your granddad?” I asked, changing the subject.

He gave me a lazy smile. “Nasty fall off a ladder, but he’s a tough old man. Bounced back faster than I expected.”

That sounded a little too good to be true, considering what Jace had told me this morning. I frowned, glancing at Emmet, but he just looked amused, like this was all some kind of game to him.

“So,” he said, stepping even closer, “how about a tour of our place? The mansion’s got a lot of history. You like old buildings, right?”

I hesitated, but the words “old buildings” tugged at something in me. I’d always been drawn to history, to places that felt like they held secrets of their own. And despite my better judgment, I nodded. “Sure. Why not?”

Emmet’s grin widened, and he gestured for me to follow him. We walked in silence for a few minutes, the tension between us hanging heavy in the air. His mansion wasn’t far, just on the edge of town, hidden behind a row of towering trees. I’d seen it from a distance, but never up close.

As we reached the driveway, my eyes landed on Jace’s car parked near the front. Before I could ask about it, an older man stepped out from behind the house, his gait steady and sure.

“That’s him,” Emmet said casually. “Granddad.”

I blinked, confusion hitting me like a brick. The man in front of me didn’t look like someone who’d just had a “nasty fall” off a ladder. In fact, he looked perfectly fine. No limp, no bandages—nothing.

Granddad waved, a friendly smile on his face. “Nice to meet you, Willow. Heard a lot about you.”

“Hi,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. As he walked away, my mind raced. Something wasn’t right here.

Once he was out of earshot, I turned to Emmet. “I thought he fell off a ladder?”

Emmet’s smirk didn’t falter. “He did. Tough old guy, like I said. He’s been through worse.”

I opened my mouth to ask more, but before I could, the front door creaked open, and Jace stepped out, his expression freezing the second he saw me.

“Willow?” His voice was full of surprise, almost like he hadn’t expected me to be here. Maybe he hadn’t.

Emmet chuckled, leaning against the porch railing. “Found her wandering near the old church. Thought she could use a proper tour.”

Jace’s eyes flicked between me and Emmet, and I could see the tension building in his jaw. “You didn’t tell me you were coming here.”

I shifted uncomfortably, feeling like I’d just walked into the middle of something I wasn’t supposed to see. “I… didn’t know either. Emmet just—”

“Just invited you over, like the good host I am,” Emmet interrupted smoothly. “Relax, brother. We’re all friends here.”

But something about the way Jace was looking at me—like I was in danger and didn’t even know it—made my stomach twist. What were these brothers hiding? What weren’t they telling me?

Jace stepped forward, his gaze softening as he looked at me. “Willow, I need to talk to you.”

Before I could answer, Emmet clapped a hand on Jace’s shoulder. “No secrets, remember?”

The smirk on his face said everything. There were secrets. Big ones. And I was standing right in the middle of them.

I glanced between the two of them, feeling the weight of their unspoken history pressing down on me. Whatever was going on here, I was caught in the middle, and I wasn’t sure I liked it.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” I asked, my voice stronger than I felt.

Jace’s eyes softened, but Emmet’s smirk only grew wider.

“Oh, Willow,” Emmet said, his voice dripping with amusement. “You’ve only just scratched the surface.”