Chapter 19 :Whispers in the Wind

As Bellaire and Mia stepped out of the room where the rest of the household had gathered, they were greeted by a mix of anxious faces and hurried questions. Elias, with a sharp gaze, was the first to speak, his voice tight with concern.

“What in the void happened there?’ Elias demanded, his voice taut with worry. The wards—one moment they were steady, the next, it was like something was clawing at my mind."

Mia hesitated, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She glanced at Bellaire, who nodded gently, encouraging her to speak. Taking a breath, Bellaire recounted the encounter with the ghoul, her voice trembling but steady. She described its relentless presence, the way it seemed to seep into the very walls of the library, and how their combined efforts had driven it back—if only temporarily.

“It wasn’t just a random attack,” Bellaire finished, her voice quiet but firm. “The wards held long enough for us to respond, but barely. It was stronger than we expected.”

We’d be looking at a disaster,” Mia cut in, her voice steadier than Bellaire’s. “We’ve patched the wards for now, but the ghoul’s not gone. Just… weakened. Mr. Deluca says we’ll need stronger magic to keep it out.”

The room fell silent, the weight of their words settling like a heavy fog.

Butler, standing by the doorway with her arms crossed, sighed heavily. “This means it’s getting worse,” she said, her voice tinged with worry. “If it broke through once, it’ll try again. And what if something stronger follows it?”

Yael , Bellaire's aunt stepped forward, her sharp gaze landing on Bellaire. “We need to act fast. Reinforce the wards, find out why this is happening. We can’t handle this piecemeal anymore.”

“We’ll find a way,” Mia said firmly, glancing at Bellaire. “We always do.”

After a few more murmurs of concern and offers of help, the group began to settle down, their initial panic fading into quiet determination.

 Mia's exhaustion now is too heavy to ignore, leaned closer to Bellaire and whispered, “Can we leave? I need to rest.”

Bellaire nodded. “Of course. Let’s go.”

They excused themselves and climbed the staircase to the second floor, the soft glow of the lanterns lining the walls casting long shadows. The quiet of the house felt oppressive, each creak of the floorboards magnified in the stillness.

When they reached Bellaire’s room, she opened the door and stepped inside, her shoulders slumping as the familiar space wrapped around her. It wasn’t much—just a small desk cluttered with journals and notes, her bed neatly made with a patchwork quilt—but it was hers. It was safe. Or it used to be.

The soft click of the bedroom door behind Mia was the first moment Bellaire allowed herself to breathe. She sank onto her bed, the mattress dipping under her weight. The quilted cover was cool and inviting, but it couldn’t erase the tension knotted in her shoulders or the tremor still lingering in her hands.

 Her body was exhausted, yet her mind refused to let go of the memory—the way the ghoul’s eyes had seemed to pierce through her, laying bare every fear and insecurity

Mia lingered by the doorway, her expression unreadable. “Do you want me to stay?” she asked quietly.

Bellaire hesitated, then nodded. “If you don’t mind. I… don’t want to be alone right now.”

Mia smiled faintly, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. She pulled a chair over from the desk and sat near the bed as Bellaire sank onto the mattress, her body curling into the pillows.

She ran her fingers over the edge of the quilt, gripping it tightly, trying to ground herself. The faint hum of the wards outside was always a source of comfort, but tonight it felt different. The rhythm seemed off, like an old melody played out of tune. The feeling twisted in her chest, leaving her uneasy.

For a while, neither of them spoke. The silence between them was companionable, the kind of quiet that didn’t need filling. Finally, Mia broke it, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You were amazing down there, you know.”

Bellaire let out a soft laugh, muffled by the pillow. “I was terrified.”

“And you still fought. That’s what matters.”

Bellaire turned to face Mia, her expression softer now. “Thanks, Mia. For being there. I don’t think I could’ve done it alone , you were awesome too .Without much practice you did well .”

Mia smiled, reaching out to squeeze Bellaire’s hand. “Haha, look who is talking .”

Mia pulled a chair close and sat, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. She watched Bellaire quietly for a moment, then spoke, her voice soft. “You should try to sleep. You’ve been through enough tonight.”

Bellaire gave a hollow laugh, shaking her head as she leaned back against the headboard. “I don’t think I could if I wanted to. Every time I close my eyes…” Her voice faltered. She didn’t need to explain; the images were written all over her face.

Mia sighed, sitting back. “I get it.” She rubbed the back of her neck, her own exhaustion catching up to her. “I don’t know how you do it, though. I mean, you were in the thick of it back there. Me? I was just… I don’t know, fumbling my way through.”

Bellaire turned her head to face her, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Mia, you weren’t fumbling. You were… you. Brave, reckless, and somehow always in the right place at the right time.”

Mia smirked. “Brave and reckless? That’s just a nice way of saying I’m terrible at planning.”

“You’re terrible at giving yourself credit,” Bellaire countered, the smile lingering a little longer this time. She pulled the quilt tighter around herself, the weight of the day pressing down again. “Thanks, though. For being there.”

Mia nodded, leaning back in the chair. “Always.”

The room settled into a comfortable quiet, punctuated only by the faint hum of the wards.

 Bellaire let her head rest against the headboard, her eyelids growing heavier. She could almost feel sleep pulling her under when a soft noise broke through the stillness—a faint scrape, like nails on stone. Her eyes shot open, and she froze, her breath catching in her throat.

Mia noticed immediately. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice low.

“Did you hear that?” Bellaire whispered, her gaze fixed on the window.

Mia tilted her head, listening. After a moment of silence, she shook her head. “I don’t think so. What did you—”

The noise came again, barely audible, like something moving just outside. Bellaire sat up straighter, her heart hammering in her chest. “There it is,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mia frowned, her gaze darting to the curtained window. “It’s probably just the wind,” she said, though the unease in her voice betrayed her.

Bellaire shook her head. “No… no, it’s something else.” She swung her legs off the bed, her bare feet brushing against the cold floor. The air in the room felt heavier now, the hum of the wards no longer reassuring. It felt strained, like they were working too hard.

Mia stood, moving closer to the window. She hesitated, then carefully pulled back the curtain just enough to peek outside. Her hand dropped from the fabric almost instantly. “It’s nothing,” she said quickly, her voice too even. She turned back to Bellaire, forcing a reassuring smile. “See? Nothing out there.”

Bellaire narrowed her eyes, sensing the lie. “Mia… what did you see?”

Mia hesitated, her hand drifting toward the small charm at her neck. Finally, she sighed. “It was just… a shadow, okay? Could’ve been anything.”

Bellaire’s stomach churned. She wanted to press further, but her exhaustion weighed her down. She nodded reluctantly, pulling the quilt tighter around her shoulders. “If it’s still there in the morning, we tell my dad.”

“Deal,” Mia said, though her voice was tight. She moved back to the chair, sitting stiffly now, her eyes occasionally flicking toward the window.

Bellaire lay back down, curling into the blankets. The bed was warm and soft, but it couldn’t chase away the chill that had settled deep in her bones. She closed her eyes, though sleep didn’t come easily. Outside, the faint scrape sounded again, distant but deliberate.

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