QUINN HOME

My heart nearly stopped when I saw the envelope on the table. Torin had shown me a similar one years ago when his parents had received it - the same type Heath had once laughed about, waving it before us.

The type of envelope that contained invitations to join an unconsecrated ceremony.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I whispered, but my mother heard me.

“Language, Riley!” she scolded, though her eyes were on the golden invitation in her hand. Her eyes widened as she looked up from the letter she was reading, her brows pulling together in confusion. “We’re invited to a party at the Warner’s, Rye? Now, in the middle of everything that’s going on?” Her tone expressed disbelief. “What are they thinking?”

“I don’t know, Mom,” I said, standing up from the table, the hardwood floor creaking under my weight. “But it doesn’t sound like a good idea.”

The invitation was written on thick parchment, sealed with an elaborate seal, and the Warner crest embossed on the top left corner. It was meant to intimidate, to showcase their power. And it did—it always did.

But right now? It made my stomach turn. Because everyone knew that once you were involved with the Dark Ones, there was no going back. You either joined them or you died—and even then ... Sometimes death wasn’t enough.

I shivered, remembering Tor’s dad.

I jerked out my phone to text Heath ‘what the hell?’ and it buzzed at the same time. It was him - sending a group chat to warn us that his parents had returned home.

‘Emergency meeting, my place. NOW,’ I sent back.

I paced around my bedroom, my footfalls echoing across the wooden floor. My mind raced as I tried to figure out what to do. We couldn’t let them get my parents involved with the Dark Ones.

The doorbell rang, jolting me from my thoughts. “I got it, Mom,” I called out, running out before she could get to the foyer.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door to find Torin and Enzo. Tor’s gaze darted about the house like he was looking for something, while Enzo scowled at the ground. He kicked a rock out of his way before stepping up onto the porch.

“Where’s Heath?” I asked, motioning for them to come in.

As soon as we were all inside, Tor spoke. “I expect he’s trying to find an excuse to get away from his parents,” he said icily.

I glance back to make sure my mom wasn’t nearby and whispered to Enzo, “What about Anna?”

“Moved” was all he said, and he didn’t look happy about it.

We gathered around the kitchen table, our silence heavy and thick. The room smelled like coffee and pie, but none of us touched anything. For once, we couldn’t eat much due to the tension.

“They’re back, and they didn’t even fucking give a heads-up,” Tor stated. He didn’t have to give their names. We knew. His tone echoed the anger and fear we were all feeling. We’d known the Warners return was inevitable, but that didn’t make it any easier.

“Do either of you know when it happened?” Enzo asked.

Tor shook his head.

“No clue,” I said, “but they had enough time to send an invitation to my parents.” I went to the counter and picked up the envelope.

Tor’s sharp inhalation and Enzo’s tan going to a shade lighter told me I wasn’t being paranoid. It was bad.

I dropped the invitation and spun toward the arched entry of the kitchen when we heard a door open then footsteps coming down the hall. I let out a relieved breath to find Heath standing there, though he looked stressed.

“Took the bedroom portal to get here,” he said.

“We came by front portal, to keep his parents from getting suspicious,” Enzo said dryly.

Heath moved his hands in a placating gesture towards me. “Sorry, man. My head’s not on straight. They just fucking showed up maybe ten minutes ago.”

My brows shot up. “Then they must have sent this before they left their safe house.” I showed him the envelope, and he swore softly.

“C’mon, let’s go to my room,” I said, putting the invitation back where my mom had left it.

The pressure was overwhelming, as we went to my room. Heath closed the door behind us, and we stood there, waiting for him to say something.

“I ... think they know,” he said slowly. “I think they know about the prophecy.”

“Why do you say that? How would they know?” Enzo demanded.

Heath tilted his head to crack some tension out of his neck. “Because they didn’t seem all that surprised she wasn’t with me. I said she wasn’t there, and no more questions were asked. They were ... I don’t know, weirdly calm and calculating about it.”

“They’re always like that,” Enzo said. “That seems a pretty big leap to thinking they know something.”

Heath scoffed. “Trust me, dude. Never underestimate those two. And I have a sixth sense about Harold and Helene when it comes to shit like this.”

I had to agree with him. Over the years, we’d all learned the hard way not to underestimate his parents. I could tell by the expressions on Tor and Enzo’s faces they were considering the same thing.

“What about Harris?” Tor asked suddenly, and we all turned to Heath.

“So far, doesn’t seem like they know. Thank fuck. But I should get back and keep it that way. Can’t think of any reason for them to go to the dungeon right now, but you never know.”

We all tensed, but it wasn’t entirely expected - it was going to happen sooner or later. But still, it made my stomach churn.

“What do you want to do?” Tor asked. “We can’t hide forever.”

Heath ran a hand through his blond hair, looking pale. “I’m thinking.”

I paced, trying to focus on anything but my racing thoughts: Sierra, stuck who-knew-where, maybe scared. And the guilt she’d feel if she found out about this. My parents, who’d never been privy to our secrets - not even to the fact that Gerald was still alive.

“Hey, your mom hasn’t told them yet about your dad, has she?”

Torin shook his head sharply. “Not that I know of. I doubt it. She agreed to keep it a secret for now, and she’s still struggling with it, herself.”

I nodded. It made sense. Would be a hell of a thing to try to explain that your husband—whom everyone in the coven thought had died of heart failure during a spell miscalculation—had actually been sent to the underworld for not fully accepting the Unconsecrated into his life. And hey, looky here - he’s back!

“We still have to warn your parents,” Enzo told me.

“No,” I said. “We don’t. They don’t need to know, if we can prevent it.”

Tor nodded. “He’s right. They don’t.”

Heath rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know. But what if we can’t stop it, or they figure it out on their own?”