Witches Chronicles

Chapter 3:

Willow's pov

Lyle's house looked more like an estate than a home, the kind of place that felt like it belonged in a different century. The towering iron gates, the long, winding driveway, the sprawling mansion—it all screamed wealth and importance. His parents were renowned antique relic collectors, and every inch of the place was filled with ancient artifacts, some of which were probably older than the town itself. If the house didn’t intimidate you, the sheer arrogance that Lyle exuded certainly would.

Layla pulled the car to a stop near the front of the mansion, and as we stepped out, the sound of laughter and loud music spilled out into the cool night air. Evie was already making a beeline toward the crowd, likely on the hunt for her on-again-off-again ex, Chase. Layla and I exchanged knowing looks and rolled our eyes as Evie disappeared into the throng of people gathered on the lawn.

“She’ll be back with him by the end of the night,” Layla said with a sigh. “I give it an hour before the drama starts.”

“Probably,” I agreed, unable to stop a grin. It was always the same with Evie—one minute she’d swear she was done with Chase, the next they’d be all over each other. “Let’s just find somewhere less chaotic.”

We walked up the grand steps to Lyle’s front door, where he stood holding court. Lyle Lockwood—Dan’s best friend, the guy who thought he was the king of Glen Haven High. He had that air of arrogance about him, like the world should revolve around him because of his family's status. His chiseled features and cocky smile were the stuff most girls swooned over, but to me, Lyle was just... well, Lyle.

“Ladies,” he greeted us, flashing a charming grin as we approached. “Glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Layla said, though her smile was forced. She was always polite, even when she didn’t like someone.

Lyle’s eyes lingered on me for a moment, and I gave him a tight-lipped smile, hoping that would be enough to avoid conversation. “Willow,” he said, “haven’t seen much of you lately. You should stop by more often.”

“I’ve been busy,” I replied quickly, inching closer to Layla. I didn’t want to be rude, but small talk with Lyle was the last thing I needed tonight.

“Well, make sure to enjoy yourself,” he said, then turned his attention to a group of girls who were obviously dying for his attention.

We slipped away from the crowd, heading toward the garden where the bonfire was already blazing. The warmth from the flames and the smell of burning wood brought a little comfort to the unease I’d felt all day, but it didn’t last long.

Layla and I found an empty spot near the fire and sat down, finally able to breathe. “I can’t believe this place,” Layla said, shaking her head. “Every time I come here, it feels like we’re stepping into some creepy museum.”

“It kind of is a museum,” I said, glancing around at the antique statues and relics scattered across the garden. “Lyle’s parents collect half the weirdest stuff I’ve ever seen.”

Layla snickered. “Yeah, and Lyle acts like he’s king of the castle.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “True.”

Before long, Layla’s phone buzzed, and she glanced at it, groaning. “Cheerleading team. They want me to do that stupid keg stand thing again.” She stood, tossing me an apologetic look. “You good here?”

I waved her off. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t let Lyle talk your ear off,” she warned playfully as she headed toward the house, disappearing into the crowd.

The music and laughter were starting to get to me, and I was just about to slip away myself when I turned and almost bumped right into him—Jace.

He stood there with that same intense gaze, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, looking far too calm and collected for a party like this. His lips curled into a small smile, and for some reason, it made my heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

I shrugged, trying to keep my voice steady. “I don’t usually do these kinds of parties. Too loud.”

He tilted his head, studying me for a moment. “Yeah, not really my scene either. I was just trying to get away from the noise.”

“Same,” I said, though I wasn’t sure if I was agreeing about the noise or something else. I couldn’t help but feel like he was a lot more interested in me than he was letting on.

Jace shifted slightly, brushing a strand of hair away from my face in a gentle, almost intimate gesture. His fingers were cool, sending a shiver through me as he tucked the hair behind my ear. “So,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine, “what do you do for fun in this town?”

I laughed softly, trying to push down the sudden nervousness bubbling up inside me. “I work at my family’s bookshop. It’s not exactly exciting, but it’s peaceful.”

His expression softened. “Your family runs a bookshop?”

“Yeah, my Grams mostly. She’s... well, she’s kind of a character.”

“I’d like to meet her sometime,” he said, but before I could respond, his entire demeanor shifted. The warmth in his eyes faded, replaced by something colder. He wasn’t looking at me anymore—he was looking behind me.

I turned to see the guy from the car—the one I’d seen arguing with Jace earlier that day. He strolled toward us, his steps lazy and confident, a smirk on his lips that sent another chill through me. He was tall, lean, with dark, tousled hair and piercing eyes that felt too familiar. He wore a leather jacket, and everything about him screamed danger.

“Emmet,” Jace said, his voice suddenly clipped and dismissive. It wasn’t a greeting. It was a warning.

Emmet’s smirk widened as he sauntered up to us. “And who’s this delicious-looking young lady?” he asked, his voice smooth as silk. He reached for my hand, lifting it to his lips with a mocking bow. “A pleasure to meet you.”

I stared at him, confused and unsettled. There was something about his eyes—their icy blue color was so familiar, like I’d seen them before. And then it hit me. They were the eyes from my visions. I pulled my hand back quickly, my heart racing.

“Willow,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, though my mind was spinning.

“Willow,” Emmet repeated, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Such a lovely name.”

Jace stepped forward, tension rolling off him. “What are you doing here, Emmet?”

Emmet gave a lazy shrug. “Heard about Granddad. Came to help plan the funeral. Thought I’d swing by, see how my little brother’s holding up.”

Jace’s face went pale, and his eyes darkened with anger. He grabbed Emmet by the shirt, pulling him close. “What did you do?” His voice was low, seething with barely contained fury.

Emmet, unfazed, chuckled and pushed Jace back lightly. “Chill out, brother. I’m just here to help with the funeral arrangements. Thought you could use a hand with the estate. Plus, you’re a minor, so I’m moving in. Figured you could use the company.”

Jace’s face was a storm of emotions—anger, hurt, and something else I couldn’t quite place. He glanced at me, his expression apologetic. “I need to go. I’ll see you in class tomorrow, okay?”

I nodded, feeling the tension between them. Jace turned and walked away, leaving me standing there with Emmet, who watched him go with a smirk, sipping from a flask that smelled distinctly like bourbon.

“Nice to see my little brother already making friends,” Emmet said, turning his attention back to me. His eyes were sharper now, more focused, like he was studying me, reading something deeper.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “You don’t seem like you and Jace are on such friendly terms.”

Emmet laughed softly, the sound dark and amused. “Oh, we have our moments. Sibling rivalry, you know how it is.” His gaze flicked over me again, lingering for a second too long. “But you—you’re interesting.”

Before I could respond, Layla and Evie appeared out of nowhere. Evie, ever the flirt, zeroed in on Emmet immediately. “Hey there, handsome,” she said, batting her lashes at him. “Who are you?”

Emmet’s smirk faded into something closer to disdain. “Not interested,” he said flatly, taking another sip from his flask.

Evie blinked, momentarily thrown off by his bluntness, but she recovered quickly, turning to me with a raised brow. “Wow, rude much?”

I quickly introduced them. “This is Emmet. Jace’s brother.”

Emmet, clearly finished with the conversation, took my hand again and pressed a kiss to it. “I’ll be seeing you, Willow,” he said, his voice low and full of promise. Then, without another word, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Layla nudged me with a grin. “Well, that was... intense.”

Evie rolled her eyes. “Totally rude. But, hey, at least he’s not coming to the party.”

I glanced after Emmet, still unsettled by the whole encounter. Something about him made my skin crawl, but there was no denying the pull I felt toward him, even if it terrified me.

“We should grab one last drink before we leave,” Layla suggested, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

I nodded, eager to focus on something else, anything else. We were just about to head back to the bonfire when a scream tore through the air, freezing us all in place.

It came from inside the house.

We rushed toward the mansion, pushing our way through the crowd until we reached Lyle’s dad’s office. Inside, a girl was clutching her neck, blood pouring from a jagged wound. She looked dazed, her eyes wide with confusion as Lyle frantically dialed 911.

“I told him it was a dog bite,” Lyle stammered, his voice shaking. “But we don’t have a dog!”

I stared at the girl, horrified, my heart racing as she was loaded into an ambulance. And then I saw it—numbers flashing in my mind. The same numbers from my visions. The license plate on the ambulance. Lyle’s house number.

I stood frozen, my breath catching in my throat as the world around me seemed to blur. This wasn’t just coincidence. This was something bigger.

Something darker.

And it was coming for me.