THE OLD WITCH TALE

As Alaric waited for James to arrive, he glanced once more at the heavy wooden door leading to Adrianna's room. Even behind closed doors, he could feel her presence; a strange aura seemed to emanate from within, tinged with a mixture of energy and unease. It wasn't just her near-death experience that concerned him—it was something deeper, an alteration in her very essence. Her skin had taken on a subtle, almost otherworldly glow, and her pulse was erratic yet steady, an odd rhythm that pulsed like a hum in the quiet mansion.

A quiet knock interrupted his thoughts. Alaric turned just as James entered, his expression a mixture of curiosity and concern. The two exchanged a nod, and Alaric gestured for him to follow into his study.

As they settled in, Alaric poured James a glass of bourbon. "You're not going to believe this," Alaric started, his voice low. "Whatever Xavier did, it's left a mark on her—more than I anticipated."