The warm glow of the fire cast dancing shadows on the walls, and for a brief moment, the chaos of the evening had finally subsided.
My parents were cleaning up the remains of the Christmas feast in the kitchen, Lily had been tucked into bed after her sugar-fuelled antics, and Ciara and I had retreated to the quieter side of the sitting room.
The Christmas tree stood proudly once more, thanks to her magic, twinkling as though it hadn't been toppled mere hours ago.
Ciara sat beside me on the sofa, her fingers idly tracing patterns along my arm. I felt content, basking in the warmth of her presence. But something about the way her gaze lingered on the flames told me her mind was elsewhere.
"What's on your mind?" I asked softly, tilting my head to meet her eyes.
She hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Nothing to worry about," she said, though her tone betrayed her.
I frowned. "Ciara, I know that look. What is it?"
Her eyes flicked to mine, her usual fierce confidence tempered by an uncharacteristic uncertainty. "It's just… today reminded me of what we almost lost. What I almost lost."
I reached out, cupping her cheek. "But we didn't lose, Ciara. We're here, together."
She leaned into my touch, but the tension in her shoulders didn't ease. "Nathaniel may be gone, but his actions left scars. Scars on us, on the people we love… I don't want to let my guard down, not when there's still so much at stake."
Her words sent a shiver down my spine. The events of the last few weeks had been overwhelming—terrifying, even—but now that it was Christmas, I had been holding onto the hope that we could finally have some peace. Yet, the shadows of what Nathaniel had done lingered like an unspoken curse.
"You don't think it's over," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Ciara shook her head. "No. Someone like Nathaniel doesn't act alone. He was too organised, too well-connected. I think there's more to this than we've uncovered."
The crackle of the fire filled the silence that followed her words. My chest tightened, the peace of the evening suddenly feeling fragile, as though it could shatter at any moment.
"Then we face it together," I said firmly, sliding closer to her. "Whatever comes next, we'll handle it. Like we always do."
She smiled faintly, though the worry in her eyes didn't fully dissipate. "You're too good for me, Aeliana."
I scoffed, wrapping my arms around her. "Damn right I am."
Her laughter was soft but genuine, and for a while, we simply held each other, letting the world outside fade away.
The tranquillity didn't last.
A loud, echoing knock at the front door jolted us both upright. I exchanged a glance with Ciara, my stomach twisting.
"Expecting someone?" she asked, her voice low, cautious.
"No," I said, shaking my head.
The knock came again, more insistent this time. My parents were still in the kitchen, their hushed voices filtering through the doorway, but they hadn't noticed the sound. I stood, but Ciara caught my wrist, her grip firm.
"Stay here," she said, rising to her feet.
"Like hell I will," I retorted, pulling my hand free.
She sighed, but didn't argue. Together, we approached the door, tension crackling in the air. Ciara's hand glowed faintly with magic, ready to strike at a moment's notice. I steeled myself, unsure of what—or who—awaited us on the other side.
When she swung the door open, there was no one there.
The snow-covered garden lay undisturbed, the faint footprints from earlier already filling in with fresh flakes. The street beyond was eerily quiet, the usual warmth of the holiday replaced by a creeping unease.
"Strange," Ciara muttered, stepping outside to scan the area.
I followed hesitantly, my breath puffing in the cold air. "Maybe it was kids messing around?"
She shook her head. "No. That knock wasn't random."
Her gaze swept over the garden, her sharp eyes missing nothing. She crouched near the path, brushing her fingers against the snow. "Look," she said, pointing to an impression in the snow.
A boot print.
It was large, too large to belong to anyone in my family. And it was fresh.
"Someone was here," Ciara murmured, rising to her feet.
A chill ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the winter air. "Why would they knock and just… leave?"
Before Ciara could answer, the sound of shattering glass erupted from inside the house.
We spun around, my heart leaping into my throat. Ciara was through the door in an instant, and I followed close behind.
The sitting room was a mess—shards of glass glittered on the floor where the front window had been smashed. The Christmas tree, once proudly standing, now lay toppled again, its decorations scattered.
My parents rushed in from the kitchen, my mother clutching a rolling pin like it was a weapon. "What's going on?" she demanded, her eyes wide with alarm.
"I don't know," I said, my voice trembling as I scanned the room.
Ciara's posture was tense, her eyes glowing faintly as she stepped further into the room. "Stay behind me," she ordered, her voice cold and commanding.
A sudden movement caught my eye—a shadow flickering just beyond the broken window.
"There!" I cried, pointing.
Ciara didn't hesitate. She leapt through the window frame, her magic flaring to life in her hands. I hesitated only briefly before scrambling after her, ignoring my mother's shouts for me to stay inside.
The garden was empty once more, but the same unease from before hung in the air, heavier now. Ciara stood in the snow, her magic casting a faint glow against the darkness.
"They're gone," she said, her voice tight with frustration.
"Who's gone?" I asked, joining her.
"I don't know," she admitted, though her expression darkened. "But this wasn't random. Someone's watching us."
The rest of the evening passed in a tense blur. Ciara insisted on warding the house with protective magic, her movements precise and deliberate as she reinforced every entry point. My parents, though clearly shaken, didn't argue.
Even Lily seemed to sense the gravity of the situation, remaining uncharacteristically quiet as she clung to my mother's side.
By the time the house was secure, the clock had struck midnight. Ciara and I returned to the sitting room, the tree now upright once more—though its battered appearance felt like a grim metaphor for the night's events.
I sat on the sofa, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders as Ciara joined me. Her expression was unreadable, but the tension in her body hadn't eased.
"Do you think it's connected to Nathaniel?" I asked, breaking the silence.
"Probably," she said, her voice flat.
The thought sent a wave of dread washing over me. Nathaniel was dead—I'd watched Ciara kill him with my own eyes. But if there were others working with him, others who wanted to continue what he'd started…
"We'll handle it," Ciara said, her voice cutting through my spiralling thoughts. "Whatever it is, we'll handle it. Together."
I nodded, trying to take comfort in her words. But as I glanced towards the window, where the snow continued to fall softly against the glass, I couldn't shake the feeling that something—someone—was out there, watching, waiting.
And the worst part? I wasn't sure we were ready for what was coming next.
The tension in the house lingered like a shadow, stubborn and oppressive despite Ciara's wards. I sat on the sofa, my legs tucked beneath me, and glanced at her as she leaned against the wall. The dim glow of the Christmas tree lights reflected off her face, accentuating the hard line of her jaw. Her arms were crossed, and she hadn't stopped scanning the room since we'd sat down.
"Ciara," I murmured, drawing her attention. "You can't stay on high alert forever. Come sit with me."
She hesitated, her intense gaze softening just slightly as she looked at me. "I can't stop thinking about it, Aeliana. That knock, the broken window, the footprint—it's not random. Someone was trying to send a message."
"Or scare us," I said. "And they succeeded. But we're safe now. Your wards are strong, and my parents will be fine. Come here, please."
Ciara sighed, pushing off the wall. Her footsteps were quiet as she crossed the room, her presence a comfort as she sank down beside me. She rested her elbows on her knees, running her fingers through her dark hair.
"I just don't like the unknown," she admitted, her voice low. "Nathaniel's gone, but whatever he was part of isn't finished. I feel it in my bones."
I placed a hand on her arm, letting my fingers trace soothing patterns on her sleeve. "You'll figure it out. You always do. But not tonight, Ciara. Tonight, let's just… be here. Together."
She looked at me then, her crimson eyes locking onto mine, and the weight of her worry seemed to ease, if only a little. "You make it sound so simple," she said, her lips quirking into the faintest smile.
"Because it is simple," I replied. "You're here. I'm here. And Lily is asleep for once, which means we can actually enjoy some peace."
Ciara chuckled softly at that, leaning back against the sofa. "Peace. Now there's a concept."
I smiled, shifting closer to her. The warmth of her body against mine chased away the last remnants of unease. "We'll have peace one day," I said, resting my head on her shoulder. "But until then, we'll have moments like this."