I hadn't expected Dorian to call again so soon. After everything that happened with the sorcerers and the mess I found myself in, I figured I'd be left alone for a while. But no. There he was again, popping up like he always did when I least expected it.
I'd spent the last few hours locked away in my apartment, pacing, trying to make sense of everything. The curse. The bloodline. The sorcerers. Dorian had dropped a lot on me the last time we talked, and I wasn't sure what to make of any of it.
Then the phone rang, cutting through the silence like a knife. I glanced at the screen—Dorian. Of course. I almost didn't pick up. He'd done enough damage already, pulling me into his world, into whatever this mess was. But something made me answer.
"What is it?" I asked, my tone colder than I intended. I was tired. Tired of the constant surprises, tired of being dragged into things I didn't understand.
"I need you to meet me," Dorian said, his voice low, almost urgent. "It's important."
I didn't even hesitate. Something told me I couldn't ignore him. Not this time.
"Where?" I asked.
"The abandoned warehouse by the docks," he replied, and the line went dead before I could say anything else.
I couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding settle over me. The docks. A place no one ever really went unless they had to. It wasn't the kind of place you would visit for a friendly chat. I didn't know what to expect, but I wasn't feeling good about it.
I grabbed my coat and made my way out the door, trying to shake off the nervousness that clung to me like a second skin. The streets were dark, but not empty. People rushed by, wrapped up in their own worlds, while I found myself moving faster, my mind racing with possibilities.
The warehouse wasn't far from my place, but it felt like it took forever to get there. Every step I took felt like I was walking deeper into a nightmare. By the time I reached the building, I was already on edge.
The door creaked as I pushed it open, and a rush of cold air greeted me. The place was exactly what I'd expected—dark, abandoned, and silent.
"Dorian?" I called out, my voice echoing through the empty space. I didn't know why I thought he would respond. It was stupid. Of course, he wouldn't answer right away.
I stepped further into the room, the floorboards creaking under my weight. I could barely see anything in the dim light, but I could feel his presence before I saw him. Dorian was standing in the shadows, watching me with those piercing eyes.
"You came," he said, his voice low, but there was something else in it. Something… off.
"I didn't have much of a choice," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. "What's going on, Dorian? Why the secrecy? What do you need to tell me?"
Dorian didn't move. He just watched me for a moment before he spoke again, his tone more serious than I'd ever heard it. "You need to be careful. The sorcerers aren't the only ones after you. There's something worse coming. And it's already too close."
"Worse?" I felt my stomach drop. The sorcerers had been bad enough. What else could there possibly be?
"The shadows," Dorian said, his voice soft. "They've been following you. Watching you. They want you. Not just because of your bloodline, but because of what you're capable of."
I blinked, trying to process his words. "What are you talking about? Who's watching me?"
"The shadows are older than you think. They're not a group or an organization. They're something else—something ancient. And they want you. They want what's inside you."
I took a step back, my heart racing. I wasn't sure if I should be scared or confused. This was new territory. I had no idea what he meant by "the shadows," but I knew enough to trust Dorian when he said something was dangerous.
"You're not making any sense," I said, my voice tight. "What do they want from me?"
"They want the power you've unlocked. The prophecy, Evelyn. It's not just about your bloodline. It's about the magic inside of you. You're more than just a descendant of the cursed line. You've got a gift, a connection to something that's been hidden for centuries."
I could feel my pulse quicken as I listened to Dorian's words. The last few weeks had been a blur of strange occurrences, hidden truths, and bloodlines I didn't want to be a part of. And now this. Whatever it was, it wasn't just about a cursed family anymore.
"Why are you telling me this now?" I asked, suddenly feeling suspicious. "What's your angle, Dorian? What do you get out of all this?"
Dorian's expression didn't change, but I could tell I'd hit a nerve. He stepped closer, just enough for me to feel the tension in the air. "I don't have an angle," he said, his voice hard. "I'm trying to protect you."
"I don't need your protection," I shot back, my tone sharper than I intended. "I've been fine on my own."
He shook his head, and there was a hint of something—regret? Frustration?—in his eyes. "You're not fine. You haven't been fine since you touched that book."
I wanted to argue, to tell him I didn't need anyone, especially not someone like him. But the truth was, everything he was saying made sense. Too much sense. And it was terrifying.
"Look, Dorian," I said, trying to calm myself. "What do I need to do?"
"You need to get out of here," he said, his voice urgent now. "You're not safe here anymore. They're closer than you think. The shadows are already on your trail. If they find you, it won't just be your bloodline they're after. They'll want everything."
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I knew, deep down, that Dorian was right. Whatever this was, whatever I'd gotten tangled up in, it was far from over. And it was only just beginning.
"Stay with me," Dorian said, his tone softening just a little. "I'll help you. We'll figure this out together."
I stared at him, weighing my options. I didn't trust him. I didn't trust anyone. But right now, I didn't have a choice.
"Fine," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm not doing this alone."
And just like that, I was bound to Dorian, whether I liked it or not. Because sometimes, you don't get to choose who you stand with. You only get to decide if you fight.