Sorcery

I woke with a jolt, my head lighter this time, the throbbing haze from before finally fading. Blinking, I took in the unfamiliar room again—the same carved walls and eerie glow. Turning my head, I noticed the middle-aged woman slumped in the chair beside me. She was asleep now, her face etched with exhaustion. She must have stayed there for hours, maybe even the whole time I'd been unconscious.

The memories hit me like a freight train. They'd dragged me from my world, from my time. The sword that wouldn't budge, their desperate pleas for help, and mine to be sent back—it all swirled in my head. I clenched the soft cloth of my borrowed dress, the frustration making my knuckles white as I stood on shaky legs.

Running was my first thought, but... where would I go? I didn't even know how to get out of this place, let alone how to return to the life I'd been ripped from. Instead, I crept to the door, cracking it open. The hallway stretched out before me, dimly lit by flickering sconces. The air smelled faintly of candle wax and something ancient. I slipped out, letting the door close softly behind me.

The halls were endless, their grandeur overwhelming. Statues towered over me, their stony faces frozen in expressions of triumph or sorrow. The designs hanging on the walls seemed alive, their intricate threads woven into stories that only the walls could truly understand. Chandeliers hung high above, glittering faintly in the low light. It was all... too much, too perfect. Like I'd walked straight into a fairytale.

I sighed, wishing desperately that I had my phone. The thought of snapping pictures of these breathtaking halls and showing them off on my socials made me laugh bitterly under my breath. My phone, like everything else, was gone. It was just me—my soul—in this alien place.

As I wandered, I came across a door that made me pause. The air around it felt... different. Colder, heavier. A shiver ran down my spine as I stared at the ornate handle. My hand hovered for a moment before I finally pushed it open, curiosity pulling me forward.

The room was dark, the only light a sliver of moonlight slipping through a high window. My breath hitched as I stepped inside, my bare feet brushing against a cold, smooth floor. And then I felt it—a presence.

"Athena," a deep, gravelly voice said, shattering the silence. My heart lurched, and I spun around, but I couldn't see him.

Before I could react, a strong hand gripped my waist, pulling me backward into a warm, solid chest. I froze. His touch was firm, and his body... it was huge, hard, radiating an almost unbearable heat.

"I've missed you," he murmured, his voice raw, strained. "I've missed you so damn much."

My mind reeled. Who was this? Why did his voice feel like a whisper from a dream I couldn't quite remember? My body tensed, caught between fear and something I couldn't name.

His arms tightened around me, and he buried his face in the curve of my neck. The heat of his breath against my skin sent a shiver through me. "Why are you torturing me like this?" he whispered, the pain in his voice palpable. "Why would you leave me?"

I bit my lip hard, trying to stifle the gasp threatening to escape. My heart pounded against my ribs as his lips grazed my neck. My knees felt like they were going to give out beneath me, but I couldn't move—I didn't know how.

Then, suddenly, he froze.

"No," he muttered, his tone shifting sharply. "This isn't real."

Before I could process his words, he let go of me abruptly. The warmth disappeared, replaced by the biting chill of the room. There was the scrape of something being struck, and then light flared to life. A candle's glow illuminated his face.

It was him. The gorgeous devil. The one with the piercing eyes and that aura of power that had shaken me to my core.

For a moment, our eyes locked, and I saw something raw in his gaze—grief? Longing? But just as quickly, it vanished, replaced by a cold, unreadable mask.

The man's voice cut through the silence like a blade. "What are you doing here?" His tone was sharp and unyielding, his gaze cold enough to freeze me in place.

I faltered, words dying in my throat. The weight of his presence was suffocating. He wasn't just angry—he was furious.

"And where," he continued, his eyes narrowing, "is the maid I told to keep an eye on you?"

I couldn't answer. Guilt churned in my stomach, but frustration bubbled to the surface too. Why was I here, stuck in this bizarre situation?

"I want to go back," I blurted, my voice trembling. "Just send me back to where I came from. Please."

His gaze remained cold, but there was a flicker of something—annoyance, maybe?—in his eyes. He sighed heavily. "Calm down. I want you gone just as much as you want to leave."

I stared at him, stunned by his bluntness. Relief should've washed over me, but instead, anger took its place. "Then why haven't you done anything?" I demanded, my voice rising. "If you want me gone, then send me back!"

Before he could respond, a knock on the door interrupted us. His jaw tightened, his irritation palpable. "Come in," he said curtly, his voice like steel.

The door opened, and two men stepped inside. My eyes immediately landed on the scarred man from earlier. His presence was as imposing as ever, his sharp features even more intimidating up close. The other man, slightly younger but equally confident, followed closely behind him.

Their gazes flicked to me, confusion flashing across their faces. But they didn't address me; instead, they turned to the man I'd been arguing with.

They didn't speak his name, but the way they carried themselves—the deference in their demeanor—spoke volumes. This wasn't just any man. This was someone important. Royalty, maybe.

The scarred man leaned closer to him, whispering something in his ear. Whatever he said caused the man's expression to harden further. His jaw clenched, and his icy gaze snapped back to me.

"Do you have any idea," he began, his voice low and dangerous, "how much trouble we'd be in if someone saw you? If someone not meant to know about you caught sight of you? Or worse"—his tone grew sharper—"if Ariel were to see you?"

The name hung in the air like a threat. Ariel. Whoever that was, the mere mention of her sent a shiver down my spine.

He turned to the others. "Take her back to the room. Now."

The scarred man nodded, his expression grim as he gestured for me to follow.

"Wait—" I started to protest, but the man's glare silenced me.

"Don't test my patience," he said coldly. "Stay in that room. Do not leave again. If you do, there won't be anyone to protect you."

My throat tightened, and I swallowed back the lump forming there. Without another word, He led me out of the room, my mind racing.

We returned to the room where I'd woken up, and I saw the maid still slumped in her chair, asleep. The man who'd scolded me walked straight to her, his expression darkening.

"Wake up," he snapped.

The maid startled awake, her eyes wide with panic. "Your Highness, I—"

"Save it," he cut her off, his voice colder than I'd thought possible. "You had one task."

The maid stammered an apology, but he wasn't interested. His gaze shifted back to me, and for a moment, I thought I saw something softer beneath the coldness.

"Stay here," he said, his tone firm but not unkind. "Please, don't make things harder for yourself—or for me."

I nodded, my voice failing me. The door closed behind him, leaving me in the suffocating silence.

..

Lucius POV

I sat at the table, feeling the weight of the situation. Kael stood quietly by the wall, waiting for me to process the mess we were in. We'd brought the wrong soul into Athena's body.

"How did this happen?" I finally asked. "We did the sorcery right."

Kael said nothing, his eyes on the Prophetess. She sat across from me, her frail body still as she spoke.

"The soul brought here was not Athena's reincarnated soul, Your Highness. It is indeed a random soul from the future. But do not fear. It cannot harm the Goddess's body. The divine power is stronger than you realize."

I didn't buy it. "Are you sure? How long can Athena's body handle this?"

The Prophetess nodded. "Yes, Your Highness. The divine power will hold."

But I wasn't convinced. The longer that imposter stayed, the worse it would get.

Kael spoke up. "Your Highness, perhaps we should send her back. We've waited too long."

I cut him off. "Send her back? Can we even do that now?"

The Prophetess's voice was firm. "The tools used to bind her soul are broken. If you try to send her back now, the spell will fail, and the consequences could be catastrophic."

I frowned, panic rising. "Broken? How?"