Chapter 6 Hidden Lens

Evi's Pov

My legs carried me back to my room on autopilot, every step feeling like I was wading through cement. The hallway stretched endlessly, the walls closing in around me. Richard's voice echoed in my head, cold and calculating. If she's as powerful as I think she is, she might be exactly what I've been looking for.

I slammed my door shut and locked it, my back sliding down against the wood until I was sitting on the floor. My hands were shaking. My whole body was shaking.

He knew.

Richard Hawkins knew I was a witch. He knew about the bond. He knew everything.

And instead of killing me, he'd smiled. Like I was a prize he'd been waiting to collect.

A sob caught in my throat, and I pressed my palm against my mouth to stifle it. I couldn't cry. Crying wouldn't save me. Crying wouldn't stop the hunters or the experiments or the endless, suffocating fear that had been my constant companion since the day I'd discovered my father's gift in my blood.

My father's gift. I laughed bitterly at the thought. Some gift. It had brought me nothing but pain. The mob in Firescrawn, the humiliation, the fire that had almost consumed me. And now this. Bound to a man I barely knew, hunted by his father, trapped in a house that felt more like a prison every second.

Through the bond, I felt something shift. Not pain exactly, but a deep, gnawing fear. Damian's fear. My chest tightened. Something was wrong. Something more than Richard's discovery.

I pushed myself off the floor, forcing my legs to move. I needed to think. I needed to plan. I couldn't let them break me. I'd survived Firescrawn. I'd survived the mob, I could survive this.

A knock on my door made me freeze.

"Evi?" My mother's voice, soft and worried. "Are you okay? You didn't come down for breakfast."

I took a shaky breath, smoothing my hair and schooling my expression into something resembling calm. I opened the door just wide enough to see her face.

"Sorry, Mom," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "I'm just tired. The move, the new school... it's a lot."

Her eyes searched mine, and I saw the worry flickering behind her careful smile. She knew me too well. She could always tell when I was lying.

"Evi, sweetheart, you look pale. Are you sure you're okay?" She reached out, pressing the back of her hand to my forehead. "You're warm. Maybe you should stay home today."

"No," I said quickly. "I can't. I have a lot of school work to handle. Besides, I can't afford to miss any classes now."

It was a lie, of course. The last thing I wanted was to walk into that school and face the whispers and the stares and the fear. But I couldn't stay in this house. Not with Richard watching, not with the cameras hidden in every room.

My mother's expression softened, and she pulled me into a quick hug. "You're so brave, Evi. I know this is hard. But we're going to make it work. We're going to be happy here, i promise."

I hugged her back, burying my face in her shoulder. She smelled like lavender and vanilla, the same way she had when I was a child. It was comforting and heartbreaking all at once.

"I love you, Mom," I whispered.

"I love you too, baby." She pulled back, her eyes glistening. "Now go get ready. I'll make you some tea before we leave."

She walked away, and I closed the door, leaning against it with a shuddering exhale. I couldn't tell her the truth. If I told her, she'd try to protect me, and Richard would destroy her.

I couldn't let that happen.

I moved to my bag, digging through it for my phone. I needed to check if Mom had replied to my earlier texts, needed some sense of normalcy to ground me.

The screen lit up with a notification. A text from an unknown number.

"I know what you are, witch. Stay out of Crownsdale."

My blood went cold.

I stared at the message, my thumb hovering over the screen. Who sent it? Another hunter? One of Richard's spies? Or someone else, someone who'd heard the rumors and decided to take matters into their own hands?

I typed back before I could stop myself: "Who is this?"

The response came instantly: "Someone who wants to save you. Leave Crownsdale while you still can. They're coming for you."

I clutched the phone to my chest, my heart pounding. Through the bond, I felt Damian's fear spike again. He was in trouble. I could feel it, the way his emotions bled into mine like a second heartbeat.

But I couldn't focus on him. I had to focus on myself. On survival.

I deleted the message and shoved the phone into my pocket. I couldn't let them see me scared. I couldn't let them win.

My eyes drifted to the painting on the wall, a generic landscape that had been there since I arrived. The frame was slightly crooked, and I stepped closer to straighten it.

Then I saw it.

A small, almost invisible hole in the corner of the frame. And behind it, the faint red glow of a lens.

A camera.

I stepped back, my breath catching. Richard had been watching me. He'd been watching me since the moment I walked into this room. Every tear, every breakdown, every desperate attempt to hide my magic, he'd seen it all.

The rage that flooded through me was so sudden and so fierce it took my breath away. I wanted to rip the painting off the wall, to smash the camera into pieces, to scream and cry and burn everything to the ground.

But I didn't.

Instead, I forced a smile. A cold, calculated smile that I aimed directly at the lens.

"You want to watch?" I whispered, my voice soft and sweet. "Then watch."

I turned away from the camera, moving to my window. The yard was empty, but I could feel the weight of eyes on me. Richard's eyes. And maybe others too.

Let them watch. Let them see what they were dealing with. I was done hiding. I was done being afraid.

I was done being the victim.

I pulled my phone out again, scrolling through my contacts. I didn't know who I could trust. Julian was an unknown quantity. Natasha was an enemy. And Damian…Damian was a complication I couldn't afford.

But I was alone in this. I'd always been alone.

I set the phone down and looked at myself in the mirror. Pale skin, dark circles, trembling hands. The face of a girl who had been broken too many times.

But under the surface, the fire was still there. Quiet, waiting. Patient.

I touched my reflection, tracing the outline of my face. "You survived Firescrawn," I whispered. "You survived the mob. You'll survive this too."

I didn't believe it. But I had to pretend. Because if I stopped pretending, the fear would swallow me whole.