Neo’s black hair spills around her like ink in water— cascading over her shoulders, curling around her arms, and draping across her back like a cloak. It moves with her, soft and shadowy, as if it is part of the ritual.
Her eyes, half-lidded by the light of the flames, are something else entirely. They are not just beautiful… they are absolutely mesmerizing. Deep, dark and sharp, as ifthey could cut through the veil between worlds. They just don’t look at the board; they command it.
Neo’s lips begin to move.
I watch her transfixed as she whispers the words the coven has taught her. Her voice is low, steady and strange—like honeybeing poured over broken glass. Her lips shape each syllable with precision, casting the enchantment not just with sound, but with intent. Every word seems to hang in the air, glowing faintly before vanishing into the ether.
The candles flare and the board trembles.
The moment Neo whispers the final syllable of the enchantment, the temperature drops—not dramatically, but enough to make the candles flicker and the elf whimper.
There are voices… not clear, but just… there, like whispers in a candy wrapper. The board spells out:W-H-A-T D-O Y-O-U S-E-E-K?
Neo’s lips start to move again, but this time it’s not a whisper; I can hear her voice. "The old city map," she says, looking at something standing in front of her, something only she can see. "The hidden paths."
The candles burn brighter, and the ghost shows himself. He’s a wailing specter, a skeletal-looking figure dripping ectoplasm, but when he steps into the circle, he looks… almost human.
His form shimmers like frost caught in moonlight, translucent but defined. He has broad shoulders, long limbs, and a face carved with the kind of symmetry that makes me suspicious instinctively. His eyes glow a little, but not with menace, with memories—deep, ancient and unreadable. His gray hair flows like smoke does, giving it a messy look. The ghost’s expression is calm; he looks at Neo almost gently, as if he’s seen her before. Neo doesn’t flinch; she just looks at him, her beauty mirrored in his gaze. They stand there like two forces of nature acknowledging each other. The ghost sticks out his hand, reaching for Neo’s, his touch making her flinch. He moves closer to her, using one motion to trace red lines across her skin. I tense, stepping into the circle and placing myself between them. "Back off," I growl, my voice low and sharp. "You don’t get to touch her."
The ghost tilts his head, expression unreadable. "She asked for guidance."
"Use words!"
Neo looks up, startled. "Nox,"
"I’ll fucking kill him again!"
The ghost doesn't speak; it simply takes a step back, the candlelight dimming around him. I turn to Neo and kneel in front of her, my hand brushing her cheek, grounding her. "You want the map, I get it, but if anyone’s going to stand between you and death, it’s me. Neo’s eyes soften. " I wasn’t afraid."
"I know," I say, "but I was." I watch her, torn between awe and unease, her eyes dropping to her arm.
The lines bloom across her skin like frost on glass—they wind paths, forgotten alleys and symbols pulsing in bloody red. That red isn’t made of ink; it’s their blood, a cartography of the forgotten. I feel anxious now."Neo…"
She looks up at him, eyes wide and glowing faintly. "Thank you!"
The ghost fades, his task complete. The candles dim, the elf dares to open his eyes and I just stand here. I watch the woman I love carry the secrets of the city—etched into her skin by the hands of the dead.
The air in the candy shop has shifted.
Gone are the whispering shadows and ghostly chills of the séance.
Chapter 21
NEO
My eyes flick up to meet Nox, his expression is unreadable… somewhere between anger and something softer. "I’m okay," I say quietly. "He wasn’t hurting me."
Nox doesn’t move, his jaw tight, his stance firm. "He marked your skin with fucking blood.."
I glance down at the map etched across my forearm. "He gave me exactly what I asked for."
He steps closer, fists clenched. "You’re mine to protect, and if someone ever tries to take more than what you want to give, I’ll find a way to burn them out of existence."
My expression softens, and I step forward, my hair flowing like shadow-like silk as I wrap my arms around him. Nox freezes for half a second before melting into my embrace. I hold him close, my head resting against his chest and I smile. "Jealous of a ghost?"
"Jealous of anything that gets too close to you," he says. "Even if it’s made out of air."
His arms tighten around me, protective and grounding.
