Chapter 11

  ANALYZING THE SITUATION

  The breeze slipped softly through the cracks of the old mansion, and the wind chimes rang with a delicate tinkling, filling the air with a silence heavy with uncertainty. That stillness weighed on everything, saturated with confusion and a latent fear. Hidden truths had come to light, and a forgotten prophecy was beginning to seep through the cracks of ancient battles whose victories had been nothing more than a lie.

  On the upper floor, Gabriel remained by Max’s side, watching over his restless sleep as he lay unconscious. Downstairs, in the dining room, the rest of the women gathered, their faces marked by shadows cast by recent events.

  —All right… a lot has happened… —Laura murmured, still overwhelmed, her fingers drumming on the table as she tried to organize her thoughts.

  —Cristina left. That means one less witch to help us —Madame Liona said coolly. Her tone suggested she considered the matter closed, as if the wounds Cristina had caused were irrelevant compared to the current situation.

  —We’re better off without her —Melody snapped, her voice tight with contained fury—. How many more would she have betrayed?

  Madame Liona raised an eyebrow, calm but authoritative.

  —I understand your anger, Melody, but right now we’re not in a position to reject help, no matter where it comes from. All of us here have lost someone. While I don’t approve of what Cristina did, I understand the reasons behind her actions.

  Despite the harshness of her words, there was a trace of humanity in them. Liona, with her strong bearing and steel fa?ade, always sought to protect every girl who found refuge under her care.

  Soft footsteps interrupted the conversation. Julia entered the dining room with almost ghostlike movements, as if the weight of secrets were crushing her. She sat in silence, offering a small nod of thanks when a cup of tea was placed before her. Her hands trembled slightly as she wrapped them around the warm porcelain.

  —This is what we know —she began, her voice barely a whisper as the weight of her words filled the room—. Max Hotsson, a man, has developed magic. To the world, we’ve always said that magic cannot be tolerated by the male body, but that’s only half the truth. —She paused, closing her eyes as if struggling to continue—. Throughout history, the Witches’ Council has recorded three cases of warlocks. Each one appeared at a time when a great evil loomed at our doors. Max is not only the only living warlock; he is also a warning. Something dark—something immense—is approaching.

  Madame Liona, knowing the Council well, was surprised by how openly that information was being shared.

  The silence that followed was sepulchral. They all looked at one another, their faces reflecting a mix of disbelief and fear.

  At last, Madame Liona broke the tension, standing with determination.

  —If Max is the warning, then we must find out what he’s warning us about. The Becos—those solitary witches—have begun to unite under the orders of someone named Sabine. Together they are powerful, but they don’t have the capacity to break our protective spells. That can only mean they’re receiving help from Ludlavon witches.

  —The traitors! —Melody interrupted, slamming her fist on the table. Her rage burned like a fire threatening to consume her.

  —What would they gain by attacking our covens? —Laura asked, her voice tinged with confusion.

  Madame Liona lowered her gaze, her expression dark.

  —Witches’ bodies.

  The words hung in the air, laden with a gravity no one dared interrupt.

  —If they have a practitioner of necromancy, they could reanimate the bodies of fallen witches. Imagine this: the Grand Hall was protected by ancient spells, created by powerful witches. A small group could never have destroyed them. But if they have reanimated corpses functioning as magical batteries… —She let the words settle, her mind racing as she connected the pieces of the puzzle.

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  —It’s a reasonable hypothesis, Liona —Julia interjected, her tone calm yet analytical—. However, knowledge of necromancy was lost centuries ago. A Beco with that ability would have to be incredibly old—at least four hundred years.

  —Why assume it’s a Beco? —Melody asked, her severity making everyone turn toward her.

  —A demon, perhaps? —Julia narrowed her eyes, weighing the possibility—. I can investigate whether any have crossed into our realm recently. Some possess abilities related to the dead, and we know certain demons can bypass our barriers.

  With a dark spark in her eyes, Melody stood.

  —I’ll find out what I can in the city’s underworlds. While I’m at it, I’ll do some shopping. Interfering with our magic doesn’t mean they can stop a blade of divine steel.

  Her smile was more dangerous than reassuring.

  —Be careful, Melody —Madame Liona warned, her tone firm, almost maternal—. Don’t lose yourself to vengeance.

  Melody nodded almost imperceptibly before leaving. Rage, fear, and a hint of guilt followed her in her determined stride.

  The storm was drawing closer, and they were only just beginning to prepare.

  Max awoke with a foggy mind, feeling as though his body weighed a ton. He blinked several times, adjusting to the dim light of the room. In front of him, Gabriel slept in an uncomfortable chair, his head tilted to one side, worry etched into his face even in rest. The sight calmed Max for a brief moment, but Cristina’s words came crashing back into his thoughts. Were his feelings real—or merely the result of a spell?

  When he tried to sit up, a tingling sensation spread through his body. It wasn’t simple numbness; it was something else entirely. A vibrant energy coursed through his veins—powerful, warm—like a torrent awakening something deep within him. For the first time in his life, Max felt whole… and terrifyingly different.

  —Max! —Gabriel’s voice broke the silence as he jolted awake. He rushed to him at once, anxiously checking him—. Are you okay?

  —Yes, I’m… very well —Max replied, unable to hide his smile. He looked at his hands, as if they were responsible for the change. Something about him was different; he knew it, even if he couldn’t understand how.

  Gabriel watched him with relief. He leaned in to kiss him, as if needing to confirm that everything was all right, but Max stopped him with a hand to his chest. Confusion filled Gabriel’s eyes.

  —What’s wrong? —he asked, a hint of fear in his voice.

  Max looked away before answering.

  —Didn’t you hear what Cristina said? —His tone was low, almost a whisper.

  —No… —Gabriel admitted, worried.

  Max took a deep breath before continuing.

  —Cristina said she cast a spell on us to make us fall in love. I… I don’t know if this is real. —Sadness marked every word.

  Gabriel froze, processing the revelation. His shoulders seemed to sink, but he didn’t let the confusion overwhelm him.

  —Oh… —he murmured. After a few seconds of silence, he took Max’s hand—. Can’t we find out together whether it’s real?

  —And if it isn’t? —Max looked away, afraid of the answer.

  Gabriel lifted his other hand and gently cupped Max’s cheek. His eyes shone with determination.

  —And if it is? —he asked, not waiting for a response. He leaned in again, and this time Max didn’t stop him. The kiss was brief but warm, like a ray of hope amid uncertainty.

  Max exhaled deeply as they parted, his mind filling with new questions.

  —What happened to me, Gabriel? —he finally asked, seeking clarity. His memories after the necklace shattered were hazy, like a distant dream.

  Gabriel laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

  —Well… I’ve got some… strange news. —His voice trembled, but he kept going—. Max, you’re a warlock.

  Max stared at him, waiting for some sign that would prove those words false.

  —What?! —he exclaimed, incredulous—. Please tell me that’s a joke. I read the books in the Grand Hall. I’m a man—I can’t have magic. —He looked again at his hands, searching for answers his mind couldn’t grasp.

  —I know, I know… it’s supposed to be impossible. But what if the spark of our love changed the rules? —Gabriel tried to joke, forcing a smile. Max didn’t react.

  —This isn’t the time for jokes, Gabriel… How is that possible? —The seriousness in Max’s voice reflected the inner chaos consuming him.

  Gabriel sighed, adopting a more solemn tone.

  —According to Melody, you’ve always been one. Since you were born. —He paused before asking his next question—. Max, did your mother ever show signs of… certain abilities?

  Max blinked, stunned. His mother was a complicated subject for him, but he had never considered her part of the magical world.

  —My mother? I don’t know… Or maybe… —His voice trembled, as did his thoughts—. She was always a “peculiar” woman. But a witch? I don’t think so. —A flood of doubts overwhelmed him. If what they were saying was true, then everything he thought he knew about his life was a lie, a carefully woven deception. But why? And to what end?

  Gabriel squeezed his hand gently, trying to pull him back to the present.

  —Don’t overthink it right now. We’ll figure it out together. We’ll find out who blocked your magic. —He leaned down and kissed Max’s forehead before standing and heading for the door—. I promise you’re not alone in this.

  Max watched him leave, the words echoing in his mind. He hadn’t known his magic had been blocked, but something inside him screamed that his mother was connected to it. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and stood to follow Gabriel. Clinging to that promise was all he could do.

  For now.