Chapter 4

Days passed in this suffocating tension.

I couldn't figure anything out, but the dread inside me was snowballing. As long as I was in the house, that grayish-blue remnant spirit followed us like a shadow. It never spoke. It just stared at me with that strange, unblinking gaze.

Until this morning.

Silas stood in front of the full-length mirror, sliding a dark red tie under the crisp collar of his dress shirt. He caught my eye in the mirror, his brows furrowing slightly. "Didn't sleep well again last night?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, rubbing my throbbing temples, exhaustion written all over my face. "Nightmares all night."

He turned around, fastening his last button, and strode over to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Evie, listen to me."

"What?"

"I booked you a flight to New Orleans." His warm hand engulfed my freezing fingers. "There's a massive gathering of high-tier witches down South. I wanted to surprise you, but an emergency came up at the Magic Guild and I can't get away. You go first. I'll fly down to meet you in three days when things clear up."

I froze. Since we got married, he’d never felt comfortable letting me travel far alone—not even for routine Guild exchanges. He was always so protective.

"Why the sudden—"

"Look at you lately. You're wound as tight as a wire." He stroked my cheek. "Go to New Orleans and clear your head. The sun is beautiful there. As soon as I wrap things up at the Guild, I'll be right there with you."

Leaving Boston? This might be the perfect opportunity to test things!

I nodded. "Okay."

He immediately got up to pack my bags. Wrapping my robe tighter around myself, I followed him, leaning quietly against the doorframe of the walk-in closet.

He moved efficiently, pulling my favorite vintage silk dress from the back of the closet and folding it perfectly. Next went the sun-warding potions, a sun hat, and my usual soothing herbs. He even carefully tucked in my gold-embroidered silk sleep mask. Every single detail was immaculate.

"It's hot down in New Orleans right now, so take more light clothes. But the humidity makes the nights damp, so don't sleep without a blanket just because you're warm," he rambled, his hands never stopping. "Your stomach has always been sensitive, so I baked some ginger-licorice biscuits and put them in your carry-on. Eat them if you get hungry on the way."

I stared at his broad back as he bustled around, my eyes suddenly stinging with unshed tears. He remembered every single microscopic detail.

"Oh, and that medieval dark magic defense grimoire you said you wanted to study? I loaded it onto your tablet so you wouldn't get bored on the flight." He glanced over his shoulder, flashing me a brilliant smile.

I lowered my eyes, my fingers twisting the belt of my robe into knots.

The more perfect he was, the more flawlessly he cared for me, the more I felt like a neurotic, paranoid bitch. If he was a monster in disguise, how could he possibly go to these lengths?

Seeing me space out by the door, Silas walked over and waved a hand in front of my face.

"Alright, enough dawdling, my little witch." He effortlessly hoisted the heavy suitcase with one hand. "Come on, I'm taking you to the airport."

He naturally took my hand, leading me out the door.

Right as the door clicked shut, I shot a quick glance backward. My eyes swept the empty hallway. The grayish-blue spirit hadn't followed. It was still huddled in the shadows of the fireplace, watching me leave with a cold, hollow stare.

I let out a massive, silent sigh of relief. Maybe it really was just my Spirit Vision glitching out from stress and magical fluctuations?

On the drive to the airport, Silas kept his right hand wrapped tightly around mine, casually chatting about the food in New Orleans. I turned my head to watch the Boston streets blur past the window, my mind a tangled mess.

At the airport, he expertly handled my luggage and pressed my boarding pass securely into my hand.

"Call me the absolute second you land in New Orleans."

"I will."

He pulled me into his arms, hugging me tight. He rested his chin intimately in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply.

"Have fun, Evie."

Stepping into the security line, I couldn't resist looking back at him. His tall, commanding figure stood outside the glass doors, waving at me with a soft smile.

A sharp ache hit the back of my throat. He was so good to me. He was standing right there, body burning hot, heart beating strong. And yet, I had been testing him with the most vicious, paranoid suspicions.

I closed my eyes, making a silent vow to myself. This is the last time. Once I get back, I am never doubting him again.

I boarded the flight and took my window seat. As the engines roared, the plane tore through the clouds. I kept a dead-eyed watch on every corner around me.

The ghost hadn't followed.

It looked like when I got back, I really needed to find a high-tier Healer for a full mental and magical check-up. Forcing down the last lingering traces of unease, I opened the grimoire he'd downloaded for me, letting it distract me.

Three hours later, the plane touched down smoothly in New Orleans. The Southern heat hit me like a wall, carrying the scent of freedom. I immediately pulled out my phone and texted him: [Landed. Don't worry.]

Almost instantly, the screen lit up. Silas replied: [Have fun. Wait for me.]

Staring at that familiar text, my shoulders finally dropped. Total relaxation.

The New Orleans sun was fierce and blinding, thick with that signature Southern humidity. I walked down the cobblestones of the French Quarter, surrounded by a bustling crowd of witches, alchemists, and even a few magical creatures hiding their horns. The market was saturated with the pungent smells of spices and potions.

Standing in the sunlight, I let out a long, slow breath. I felt like I was finally coming back to life. I snapped a picture of a corner divination shop and sent it to Silas.

[Even the air here smells like freedom! Such a shame you couldn't make it.]

Almost instantly, the screen lit up again.

Silas:[Breathe in some extra for me. I miss you, baby.]

Looking at the text popping up on the screen, I couldn't stop the smile spreading across my face. He was still the man who spoiled me rotten. He knew all my preferences, indulged all my moods.

Under the bright New Orleans sun, all those paranoid theories about monsters and shapeshifters felt utterly, ridiculously absurd.

That night in my New Orleans hotel room, I flopped onto the massive, soft bed and dialed Silas for a video call.

The screen connected.

He was lounging on our sofa back in Boston, wearing his softest, coziest sweater.

"Where did you run off to today?" His eyes were full of smiles, his voice a deep, pleasing rumble.

"Wandered around the Dark Magic Market. Almost got scammed by a goblin peddling fake amulets." I shifted into a more comfortable position, shaking my new trinkets at the camera. "When are you getting here? I'm dying of boredom by myself."

"Soon." He chuckled. "Hold on a second, let me go grab some water."

He stood up, tossing his phone casually onto the coffee table. The lens angled sideways, pointing straight down the hallway of our living room.

In that exact second, my breath caught in my throat.

On the screen, a silhouette slowly materialized from the shadows of the hallway.

It was the grayish-blue remnant spirit!

It hadn't disappeared! It was still in our house!

And it had changed!

It was no longer that numb, quiet phantom cowering in the corner. Right now, its facial features were twisted into a horrifying, grotesque snarl! It was radiating an intense, aggressively violent dark magic aura!

Its hollow eyes were locked dead onto the direction Silas had just walked.

Jealousy!

It was a pure jealousy—the kind of malice that wanted to rip him to shreds and swallow him whole!

It was going to kill him!