Blood oath
Chapter 16 – Blood Oath
Ava Carter's POV
The door slammed behind us with a resounding finality. Damon and I stood in the dim corridor that led away from the East Wing, our hands still laced from the moment he pulled me away from the ritual room. My heart thudded with adrenaline and disbelief. Emilia’s screams still echoed in my ears.
"We have to go back," I said, turning to face Damon.
"No," he said firmly, his jaw clenched. "Not yet. We don't know what kind of door we just opened."
We both knew it wasn't just a door.
Something ancient had been stirred. Something that fed on pain, secrets, and blood.
Damon reached into his coat and pulled out the journal—Isobel’s journal—and handed it to me. The pages trembled in my grasp as I flipped through to a new entry, one neither of us had seen before. The ink was darker, fresher, like it had been written just hours ago.
"He made me promise to protect her. But the price was high. Too high. One soul for another. It always takes something in return. Now she’s his. And the mirror watches."
A shiver ran down my spine.
"Who is 'he'?" I asked.
"I think we've been blaming the house for too long," Damon said. "This is something older than the walls. A force that's been hiding inside it. Waiting."
"And now it wants Emilia."
Damon nodded grimly. "Unless we make a trade."
I stepped back. "What are you saying? That we give it someone else?"
"No," he snapped. "I'm saying we find the original bargain. Undo it. Before it claims her for good."
We didn’t sleep that night. Damon pored through old records in the study while I stayed by Emilia’s side. She hadn’t spoken since the seance. She just lay curled in her bed, occasionally humming that same haunting tune.
At sunrise, I found Damon in the attic.
He stood beside an old trunk, its contents strewn across the floor—photographs, yellowed documents, broken relics.
"I think I found it," he said, holding up a brittle parchment. "A covenant. Written by my ancestor, Elias Thornhart."
I stepped closer. The script was archaic but legible. A pact. A ritual. A blood oath.
"For the gift of insight and power, one soul shall be bound to the mirror. The Watcher shall claim it on the thirteenth moon."
"That’s tonight," Damon whispered.
"And the mirror," I said, realization dawning. "The one in the East Wing. The one that doesn’t reflect right."
"The Watcher," he confirmed. "Isobel must have been the last sacrifice. Emilia’s next. Unless we stop it."
We prepared for the night.
The house pulsed with unnatural energy as darkness fell. Emilia clung to me, refusing to let go, while Damon set candles and chalk in a circle around the East Wing mirror.
"It needs blood to bind," he said. "But if we trick it—offer something else—we can break the chain."
"What do we offer?"
He didn’t answer.
We sat in tense silence as the house groaned under the weight of nightfall. The candles flickered, casting tall shadows across the walls. I held Emilia close, her small body trembling.
The clock struck midnight.
The mirror rippled.
And then, it came.
A figure stepped through the glass—not quite human, not quite shadow. Its form twisted with smoke and broken limbs, eyes like burning voids.
"Emilia Thornhart," it hissed.
"No!" I shouted, stepping in front of her.
The creature tilted its head. "You would take her place?"
I hesitated. Damon caught my arm.
"Don’t. That’s what it wants."
"Then what do we do?" I cried.
Damon pulled a knife from his coat and sliced his palm. Blood dripped onto the floor. "You want blood? Take mine. I am the heir. The oath ends with me."
The creature screeched. The mirror cracked.
Then—
The ground trembled. Light flared. The creature lunged at Damon, engulfing him in shadow.
I screamed. Emilia screamed.
And then, silence.
Damon collapsed to the floor, gasping.
The mirror shattered.
The shadow was gone.
But so was something else.
Damon looked at me, eyes hollow. "It took something. I don't know what. But it’s not over."
I pulled Emilia into my arms.
Behind us, the broken mirror began to hum.
A low, female voice echoed from the shards.
"A debt remains. And debts must be paid."
The room fell deadly quiet.
Suddenly, the candles blew out in unison.
I turned back to Damon—but he was gone.
Just… gone.