Chapter 3

The silver array shattered into a cloud of useless, smoking ash. The shockwave blasted across the banquet hall, rattling the crystal chandeliers and shattering every champagne flute on the long mahogany table.

Two massive men in earpieces lunged from the shadows. Tristan’s private security. They reached for their holstered weapons.

Evelyn didn't flinch. She whipped her bleeding hand through the air.

Drops of her thick, black-red blood splattered across the white marble floor. They instantly hissed, expanding into a glowing crimson web that shot across the room. The web slammed into the guards. Their muscles locked up mid-stride. They crashed heavily to the floor, gasping for air, paralyzed.

The crimson web spread, latching onto every guest in the room. Senators, hedge-fund heirs, and socialites froze in their chairs. Panic flared in their eyes. They couldn't speak. They couldn't breathe.

Tristan gripped the edge of the table. His knuckles turned white as he fought the paralysis. His perfectly groomed mask of sympathy melted into pure, unfiltered shock. He stared at the glowing blood on the floor, then up at Evelyn.

"You..." Tristan choked out, his vocal cords straining against the magic. "How... how is this possible?"

He finally realized she wasn't some desperate, low-level hedge witch. He had brought a monster into his home.

Evelyn ignored him. Her heart hammered with a violent, jagged rhythm. She stepped over the smoking ash of the ruined suppression array. She walked straight toward Chloe.

The heiress sat frozen in her seat. Her eyes bulged with raw terror. Beneath Chloe's backless red dress, Evelyn could hear it. Thump. Thump. Thump. Lily’s stolen heartbeat. Strong. Steady. Kept alive inside a parasite. The sound drove a spike of pure, white-hot fury straight into Evelyn’s brain.

Evelyn stopped in front of Chloe. She grabbed the front of the expensive red dress and ripped it down, exposing the heiress's chest. Thick, fresh surgical sutures tracked down Chloe's sternum.

"Let's see how well that stolen heart pumps," Evelyn snarled.

She pressed her bleeding thumb directly onto the top of the incision. She spoke a single, ancient syllable.

The blood magic hammered into Chloe’s chest. The spell ripped away the artificial medical stability. Lily’s ancient, magic-infused heart recognized the foreign, toxic vessel. It violently rejected the host.

The surgical stitches snapped like cheap plastic strings.

Flesh tore open. The skin around the incision instantly necrotized, turning a sickly, rotting gray. Black, putrid blood erupted from the wound, spilling over Chloe’s collarbones. The glamorous facade vanished. Chloe’s vibrant flush drained away, replaced by the sunken, decaying visage of a walking corpse.

Black sludge poured out of Chloe’s mouth and nose. She let out a wet, gargling shriek.

The paralysis over the room broke just enough for the guests to react. Rich, powerful people scrambled backward, screaming in absolute horror as the smell of rotting meat flooded the dining hall.

Chloe collapsed to the floor. She clawed at the ruined flesh of her chest.

"I don't want to die," Chloe gasped, spitting black bile onto the Persian rug. She crawled toward Tristan, her bloody fingers leaving streaks on the marble. "I just wanted to live... Tristan, you promised me. You promised she would save me."

She reached for Tristan’s pant leg.

Tristan looked down at the rotting woman he supposedly loved. His face twisted in supreme disgust. He kicked her hand away. Chloe slumped against the table leg, weeping black blood.

Tristan scrambled backward. He retreated toward the head table, his eyes locked on Evelyn. He slammed his heel down on a raised, black marble tile.

"Since you aren't human, Evelyn," Tristan spat, his voice shaking with a mix of terror and arrogant rage, "then I don't need to hold back!"

The floor shuddered. The true trap activated.

Hidden panels in the walls and floor snapped open. Heavy, barbed silver chains erupted from the dark spaces. They shot across the room like striking vipers, tearing through tables, chairs, and screaming guests, converging straight on Evelyn.

Evelyn raised her bloody hands. The crimson web on the floor flared, rising into a barrier of boiling blood to deflect the silver chains. She braced for the impact from the front.

She never saw the attack from behind.

A shadow stepped out from the heavy velvet drapes.

A massive, rusted iron nail, coated in glowing, consecrated silver, drove violently into Evelyn’s right shoulder blade.

The holy metal tore through her muscle and scraped against her collarbone. The burning, agonizing pain blinded her. The blood barrier flickered and dropped. Three silver chains instantly whipped around her wrists and waist, yanking her tight.

Evelyn gasped, coughing up a spatter of blood. She twisted her head back.

Mark stood directly behind her. He wore his campus security uniform. He kept both hands firmly wrapped around the head of the silver nail, pushing it deeper into her flesh.

"Sorry, Evie," Mark whispered, his breath hot and frantic against her ear. He didn't look sorry. He looked hungry. "They just paid way too much. A full ride. A surgical residency at Hopkins. I couldn't pass it up."

The pain in Evelyn’s shoulder screamed. The silver burned her skin, searing her nerve endings. But the physical agony was nothing compared to the violent, explosive rage detonating inside her chest. Her sister. Her fiancé. Now her friend.

Every single human tie she had left in this world was entirely rotting and corrupt.

Evelyn didn't collapse. She let out a low, vibrating laugh. Blood dripped from her chin.

She reached up with her chained hand and gripped the burning silver nail embedded in her own shoulder. Her flesh sizzled against the metal. She didn't blink. She snapped her gaze onto Mark. Her eyes turned completely pitch black.

"Even you," Evelyn snarled, her voice echoing with the crushing weight of the First Witch. "Good. Tonight, we settle every single debt."