Atlas’ POV

*****

Beach House, 8:45 PM

"Spirits give me strength." He mumbled as he walked into the room, shutting the door with a flick of his wrist.

The lights turned on with a thought, illuminating the room in a soft golden glow that helped ease his nerves. He snapped his neck, a hand on his waist as he began pondering things.

Starting with that Vein Beast attack.

He wasn’t imagining things... those things had no interest in attacking Celeste even though they could. It wasn’t just odd. It raised suspicion.

"It definitely has something to do with those dark sigils she mentioned," he blurted, kicking off his boots and plopping onto his bed. "And it tracks with what her mother was saying just now. A direct connection to the Vein."

Remarkable.

Not a lot of witches knew much about the Vein. Because most knowledge on it was forbidden and only accessible to the most powerful and oldest among them.

Even then, everyone knew one thing:

Tapping into the Vein’s chaotic magic was accursed.

With a sigh, Atlas rubbed his shoulder which was still sore from the Vein beast attack. "I’ve never heard of a sentient Vein beast. Given they’re all intelligent, true sentience and the ability to speak..."

He paused, eyes squinting. "... Definitely no coincidence either. Something has shifted in the Vein since those dark sigils appeared."

Now all that brought him to another angle.

Azrael Vaelmont.

The man has always been suspicious. And that’s not just because he stalemated or totally bested Atlas in magic fights. TWICE.

But also because of that one night where he saw blood on his lips—

—And now because of what that bipedal beast called him during the attack.

"Poison of the night." Burning with pure curiosity, he hopped off his bed, moving to the only desk in the room. On it were grimoires, notes and scrolls he’s read through since they got here.

Reading and researching were quite easy when he could magnify his speed with a spell or two.

All that aside, while searching for available information on the Vein and witches who tapped into it, he discovered something. Earlier today.

"Witches who siphoned from the Vein’s chaos," he began reading out the passage again, "all soon fell to that same chaos. Death was the simplest consequence. Others rotted slowly. Ran mad. Made dark prophecies that killed off those they love."

Just reading it out gave him chills.

But he had to continue.

This was the only book he had that mentioned the Vein. Even if briefly. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

"This forced witches everywhere to outlaw the use of the Vein’s magic. Not until it could be understood... but that changed with HER. The mother of the night."

Mother of the night.

NYX.

Luna Queen Odessa mentioned her downstairs right before he left. Said she was an ancestor as well. But he was delving into something deeper here.

He could feel it.

"Mother of the night," he mumbled. "Nyx was said to have shaped the Vein’s chaos to her whim. Utterly dominate it. And then use it to create creatures that terrorised the planet."

At that point, he froze, his fingers on the book’s edge going numb as well.

After that, the book went on to give a warning on how Vein magic shouldn’t be tapped into and other irrelevant stuff. But Atlas felt like he’d already hit a bullseye.

One that has been staring them in the face all this time.

"Nothing that Vein beast said was random." Atlas got on his feet, heart beating faster. "Poison of the night... mother of the night... they’re connected!"

This explained why Azrael felt so different from normal witches.

He had some kind of connection to the Vein and Nyx!

That’s why the Vein beast could recognise him.

Horrified by the implications, his first instinct was to go find someone to talk to. Silas seemed like the right choice—the man was an expert on being quiet.

However, when he got to his room door and opened it just a little, voices in the hallway made him halt. He peeped through the little space enough to check out what was happening.

"Excuse me?" Azrael laughed dryly, his back facing Atlas from this angle. "Not a normal witch? What’s that even supposed to mean?"

The person he was arguing with was surprisingly Luther, who had his arms folded.

"It means I know what I heard, Azrael." The Alpha’s tone was pressing. "You can deny it all you want, but that beast calling you ’poison of the night’ wasn’t random. And the fact you’re deflecting makes it all the more suspicious."

Well, well, well...

It was nice knowing he wasn’t the only one who had eyes on Mr Vaelmont.

Now to see if Luther could push the man hard enough to confess.

"Again, Luther," Azrael spoke slowly. "I don’t know what you’re trying to insinuate. If you’re going to believe a random Vein beast over me, that’s fine."

"Why were you trying to avoid Celeste’s father?" Luther shot right when Azrael’s hand moved to open his door.

The latter huffed. "Simple. I could sense he’ll be harder to please than our mate’s mother and didn’t want any trouble tonight. Especially after all he said about my sunglasses."

’He rarely ever explains himself so much.’ Atlas noted mentally. ’I was right. He’s hiding something.’

"Move, Luther," Azrael warned. "Before I make you."

Shadows in the hallway thickened as the few lights left on flickered wildly. A cold wind blew into the hallway, Azrael’s aura turning into something haunting.

Atlas’ fingers on his door handle constricted harder but he didn’t let himself back down. And neither did Luther.

"You’ll ’make me’, Vaelmont?" The Alpha whispered. "You claim to care about our mate yet you hide a secret when the rest of us have been nothing but open. Whether you accept it or not, the fact remains that YOU’VE always been the odd one in this dynamic."

His voice rose toward the end, edged with a beastly growl.

Silence.

Faster than they had appeared, the shadows withdrew—the light bulbs calming as well. Azrael’s back straightened. "You want to know what I am?" he echoed. "Very well."

Wait—could this be it?

Was he seriously about to confess?!