Wisteria Von Vexx's Arc

Chapter 7 of 13

The ancient book sat open on the pedestal where they'd left it after using her blood to unlock the next passage. She stood beside Alastair, reading the words that had appeared in dark script across the yellowed pages. The ritual required something different now—not her blood this time, but his. Alastair led her through the grounds to the conservatory where he kept the restricted texts. She'd never been inside before. The iron-framed glass structure stood half-hidden by overgrown vines, frost clouding the upper panes. Inside, the air smelled like old paper and earth. The book rested on a moss-covered pedestal at the center, open to the passage that demanded what only he could provide. He drew a blade across his palm without hesitation, but when his blood touched the page, nothing happened. The ritual didn't want just blood. It wanted something he'd kept buried. He reached into his coat and pulled out a worn leather pouch. When he opened it, dark soil spilled onto the page—forest earth from the place where he'd been turned centuries ago. Wisteria understood immediately. The ritual didn't need his blood. It needed his origin, the ground that had witnessed his transformation. He poured the soil across the open book, and the text began to shift, revealing instructions she'd never seen before. But his hand shook as he emptied the pouch, and she realized what it cost him to surrender this piece of himself. The new passage described the final binding, but it also showed her the truth she'd been avoiding: the ritual would claim something from both of them that could never be reclaimed. Alastair looked at her with the question he didn't need to speak aloud. She nodded. They would finish what they'd started, knowing the price. The book had shown them the path forward, and there was no turning back from what it would take.