Chapter 1 The Ritual
The air in Sophia’s room felt wrong that night—thick, almost heavy, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath.
On the floor, a circle of black candles burned low, their flames flickering in a rhythm that didn’t belong to the wind. The smell of melting wax clung to her skin, mixing with the faint scent of iron from the silver dagger resting beside her.
She told herself it was only a game. A dare from Ava, her best friend, who swore this ritual could call something from the other side. Sophia didn’t believe it—at least, she didn’t want to. Yet here she was, alone at midnight, kneeling before the mirror with symbols chalked along its frame.
Her reflection stared back, pale and tense, eyes darting to the shadows stretching along the corners of the room. Somewhere behind her, the floorboards gave a long, slow creak, but she didn’t move. The air was colder now.
She lit the final candle and whispered the words Ava had written on a scrap of paper. The syllables rolled from her tongue like something alive, sharp and strange.
The mirror’s surface shivered.
The flame of every candle bent toward it, as though drawn by an invisible breath.
And then—her reflection smiled
