Chapter 131: The Dark Art Unveiled
Thelma Zane’s POV:
The summer sun blazed overhead, but the air carried the floral fragrance of spring, as if the season itself had decided to linger. Life felt unusually calm, yet underneath it, a subtle tension simmered.
Avril and Perrin had fallen deeply in love, and she often shared her thoughts about him with us. From her radiant smiles and dreamy gazes, it seemed as though she could hardly wait to marry Perrin, perhaps even the next day. Perrin, with his honest demeanor, was seemingly the perfect match. But as the old saying goes, “One may know a person’s face but not their heart.” Dorothy, Mara, and I took it upon ourselves to act as unofficial advisors, ensuring the pair navigated their budding romance safely.
Occasionally, Emma and Jordin would join us, bringing their own flair to the discussions. It was amusing how quickly they became friends with Avril and Mara, breaking the unwritten rules of noble conduct. Social status, it seemed, had ceased to dictate the terms of their relationships. Even Avril and Mara, at first skeptical of these new friendships, eventually embraced the bond.
“I just hope no overzealous noble lord offers a million to make me leave his daughter,” Mara once joked, a mischievous grin lighting her face, “I can’t promise I’ll stay loyal to my friends when the scent of money’s that strong.”
A week had passed since my tense conversation with my father in his study. Thanks to my flawless performance, my mother had relaxed her restrictions on me, granting me a rare day of freedom. It was a fortuitous coincidence, as it happened to be Mara’s birthday, and we were invited to her celebration.
Dorothy, recovering from her battle with Adele, had taken up residence in the palace under the guise of recuperation. For the first time, she no longer needed to conceal her sorcerer lineage. While the revelation startled a few, most of the girls took it in stride. After all, the reality of their friend standing beside them outweighed the weight of bloody legends. Emma and Jordin, whose families boasted open–minded legacies and even a few werewolf grandmasters, seemed unsurprised.
Mara’s house was bustling with energy. Friends and classmates filled every corner, laughter and conversation blending seamlessly with the pulsating rhythm of music. The lights danced across the room, mingling with the confetti that floated through the air. Everyone was on their feet, singing and dancing with a joyful abandon that threatened to shake the very roof.
In the midst of the lively crowd, my gaze caught a stark contrast: Ryan, sitting alone in a shadowed corner. The once–celebrated genius writer now looked like a mere shell of himself, his shoulders slumped, his expression desolate. He nursed a glass of sparkling water, isolated and unnoticed.
Chappe 131 The Dark Art Unveiled
Curiosity and confusion gnawed at me. Mara detested Ryan and would never willingly allow him near Avril. So why was he here? I approached Mara for answers.
“Why is Ryan here?” I asked, lowering my voice to avoid drawing attention.
Mara sighed, frustration flashing in her eyes. “Do you think I’d let that b*stard in willingly? His father is my father’s superior. My dad practically forced me to invite him. He thinks it might win him favor.”
“So, your dad wants you to date Ryan?” I asked, incredulous.
Mara’s indignation erupted like a firework. “Dream on! Ryan? Not even for ten million! I’d rather eat dirt.”
The girls around us stifled laughter, though their expressions mirrored my own disbelief. Parents often underestimated the complexities of their children’s relationships, reducing them to minor disagreements or misunderstandings. To them, a simple reconciliation was always possible–especially when personal gain was at stake. But from Mara’s fierce reaction, it was clear her father’s ambitions would remain unfulfilled.
“Shouldn’t you at least greet him?” Avril suggested hesitantly, glancing at Ryan’s forlorn figure. Her hand was securely clasped in Perrin’s a quiet testament to her newfound happiness. “Don’t worry about me. I’m over it.”
Mara waved off the suggestion with a scoff. “Let the adults play their little games. I’m not. wasting my energy.”
Satisfied with Mara’s resolve, we let the matter rest and returned to the party. The night wore on in a haze of laughter, music, and camaraderie. One by one, guests began to leave, their energy spent. The rest of us lingered, lounging in small groups as the music softened to a soothing melody.
Then, the night took a horrifying turn.
A piercing scream shattered the calm, sending a chill down my spine. The sound came from the bathroom upstairs. We rushed toward the source, hearts pounding, only to be met with at grisly scene.
Ryan lay sprawled on the bathroom floor, blood streaming from his nose, ears, and eyes. His body twitched violently, convulsing as though in agony. Around him, a strange magic circle. glowed faintly, its intricate patterns drawn in blood. The nodes of the circle were marked by unsettling offerings: a rabbit, a frog, and a cluster of writhing caterpillars.
The sight hit me like a physical blow. Pain lanced through my skull, sharp and relentless. I clutched my head, staggering as the world blurred around me. Dimly, I noticed the others were similarly affected, their faces contorted in agony.
“Everyone, get out!” I shouted, forcing myself to stand. “Don’t look at the circle!”
Chapter 171: The Dark Art Unveiled
Gritting my teeth against the pain, I grabbed a nearby cup, filled it with water, and poured it over the blood–drawn lines. The liquid spread across the floor, diluting the crimson symbols until the glow faded and the circle lost its power. Ryan’s spasms subsided, his body falling still.
Kneeling beside him, I shook his shoulder desperately. “Ryan! Can you hear me? Wake up!” His unresponsive form sent a wave of dread through me. I fumbled for my phone and called an ambulance, my voice trembling as I relayed the situation.
When I turned back, Dorothy stood over the remnants of the magic circle, her expression dark. She pulled off the cloth that covered her eyes, revealing a gaze as sharp and clear as a blade.
“This,” she said, her voice cold, “is a spell to summon a devil. The blood–it’s Ryan’s.”
Her words hung heavy in the air, an ominous revelation that sent shivers down my spine. The night, once filled with joy and laughter, had descended into a chilling nightmare.
