Chapter ten

Charlotte stared at the stars on the ground surrounded by candles. She seemed to be in a root cellar of some sort. Roselyn had returned and she brought a crowd with her too, all wearing dark cloaks.

Reuben, having shifted back to his true form, stood in a corner.

Watching.

Memorizing and taking in details of everyone. Undoubtedly looking for the next person to impersonate.

"Begin the ritual," a woman commanded. Charlotte was lifted off the floor and carried to the center of the room. Everyone, except the shapeshifter, formed a circle around her, holding hands.

Charlotte stared at the glowing symbols beneath her feet, surrounded by hideous creatures with golden-brown teeth, scales for skin, and death-black complexions. Their unrecognizable faces moved in synchronized chants. She tried to rise but found herself restricted by shackles on her wrists and ankles.

Her panic rose as one of the creatures approached, brandishing a blood-stained knife. She screamed and struggled as it made a cut on her wrist, then pulled her arm forward. Charlotte's efforts to escape were futile as she was pulled back and held within the circle.

At that moment, a loud noise echoed through the room. Charlotte's master and an unfamiliar man stood at the entrance. Her master cracked his knuckles, scanning the room until his gaze briefly met hers. The creature tugged her hand, and Charlotte screamed, unable to break free.

Lucas, with centuries of combat experience, moved swiftly and gracefully in the chaotic fray against the black witches. His vampiric speed and strength allowed him to dodge incoming magical attacks with ease, his movements a blur of calculated strikes and evasions. With razor-sharp fangs bared, he lunged at the witches, using his supernatural abilities to incapacitate them one by one.

"You know," he quipped to Nicolas, "I've fought vampires, werewolves, and even dragons, but nothing quite prepares you for a group of fashion-forward witches." Nicolas grinned despite the tension, replying, "At least they could've picked a better color scheme for their robes."

Charlotte wondered how could they be making jokes in such a situation and would someone get her out of this goddamn bounds.

Meanwhile,as the battle raged on and the air crackled with magic, Roselyn suddenly vanished into thin air, leaving behind a faint trace of her lavender perfume but not before grabbing the shapeshifter. Her disappearance was swift and mysterious, almost as if she had anticipated the impending danger and decided to make a hasty retreat.

"The ritual must commence today!" one of the witches yelled, even admist the whole chaos. 

and Charlotte tried to scramble off but only ended tripping herself.

Lucas barked orders as he fought off the witches, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Stay put, Charlotte! We'll deal with this mess."

Charlotte, bound by shackles and surrounded by the dark ritual, could only nod in acknowledgment, her fear palpable.

Nicolas, focused on the task at hand, joined in the fight with calculated precision. "We need to finish this quickly," he stated, his tone no-nonsense.

Charlotte watched in silence and as the last of the witches fell, Lucas approached her with a stern expression. "You're lucky we arrived when we did. Don't make us regret saving you."