The church social event should have been a welcome distraction from the churning anxiety that had consumed me since my discovery in the archives.
Sister Agnes had insisted that Mikael and I attend—"Newlyweds need to socialize with the community," she'd said with maternal authority—and I'd agreed because refusing would have raised questions I couldn't answer.
But standing in the cathedral's fellowship hall, surrounded by warm conversation and genuine laughter, I felt like a fraud wrapped in borrowed kindness.
The worst part was watching a group of young women who'd gathered around Mikael near the refreshment table.
They were parishioners I recognized—unmarried daughters of longtime members who'd probably harbored crushes on the handsome priest for years before his sudden marriage disrupted their fantasies.
Now they surrounded him with barely concealed longing, their voices pitched too high as they laughed at his polite responses, their touches lingering too long when they handed him plates or glasses.
One blonde girl in particular kept finding excuses to brush against his arm, her eyes bright with obvious hope despite the wedding ring on his finger.
"Father Mikael," she simpered, "You simply must tell us about your honeymoon plans. Sister Wren is so lucky to have found such a devoted husband!"
The way she said my name, like it tasted bitter, made my jaw clench with unexpected fury.
"We're keeping things simple," Mikael replied with diplomatic grace, but I caught the slight tension in his shoulders that suggested he was as uncomfortable with the attention as I was angry about it.
"Oh, but surely you'll want to celebrate properly," another girl chimed in, pressing closer than necessary. "A man like you deserves a wife who truly appreciates what she has."
The implication was crystal clear, and jealousy crashed through me with violent intensity.
These women didn't know me, had no idea what Mikael and I shared. Yet they stood there making not-so-subtle suggestions that I was somehow unworthy of him.
My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I watched the blonde girl's fingers trail across Mikael's wrist, her touch lingering with proprietary familiarity.
How dare she lay a hand on him? How dare she touch my husband?
Blood suddenly erupted from the girl's nose and mouth in horrifying torrents, crimson streaming down her face and dress as she collapsed with a choked scream. The fellowship hall erupted into chaos—guests rushing to help, someone shouting for a doctor, chairs overturning as people surged forward.
I stood frozen in absolute horror, knowing with devastating certainty that I'd caused this.
My uncontrolled jealousy, my anger at her presumptuous touch, had triggered the blood magic I couldn't yet manage. I'd nearly killed someone who had nothing to do with my emotional turmoil, whose only crime was finding my husband attractive.
"Wren!" Mikael appeared at my side immediately, his arms pulling me close while others tended to the victim. "Are you alright? You look pale…"
"I'm fine," I managed, though my voice sounded hollow to my own ears. "Is she...?"
"Dr. Henderson is with her now," he murmured against my hair, mistaking my horror for shock. "These things happen sometimes—severe nosebleeds can look worse than they are. She'll be alright."
His gentle comfort, the way he tried to shield me from the sight while others worked to stop the bleeding, only made my guilt infinitely worse.
He was protecting me from witnessing something I'd actually caused.
Trying to spare me trauma while having no idea I was the source of it.
The girl survived—barely. An ambulance arrived within minutes, paramedics rushing her to the hospital while her family followed in panicked confusion. But I couldn't shake the image of her blood, the way it had responded to my subconscious command like a weapon I'd never learned to wield.
"I need some air," I whispered to Mikael, my chest tight with suffocating guilt.
"I'll come with you," he offered immediately, but I shook my head.
"Just a few minutes alone. Please."
He didn’t fight further and with a tiny nod reluctantly let go of me.
The courtyard behind the cathedral was empty, snow falling softly onto cobblestones already blanketed in white. Most guests remained inside processing what had happened.
I leaned against the frozen stone wall without bothering to grab my coat, my breath misting in the frigid air as I gasped through the horror of what I'd done.
"That was quite a display."
I spun around to find Lilith emerging from the shadows near the garden wall, but something was different about her tonight.
Gone was the predatory confidence, the malicious amusement that usually characterized our encounters. Instead, she looked genuinely concerned as she studied my shaken expression.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said automatically, but the denial sounded weak even to my ears.
"Don't you?" Lilith moved closer with careful steps, like approaching a spooked animal. "That poor girl's collapse wasn't a coincidence, was it, sister? You can't control what's awakening in you, and you're not going to learn how on your own."
"She's fine. I didn’t kill her," I said desperately, but we both knew that was beside the point.
"This time." Lilith's pale eyes held none of their usual calculation, only the kind of worry I'd never seen from her before, when we were just little girls hiding from our mother. "What happens next time when your emotions spike? What happens when someone you actually care about gets caught in the crossfire?"
"I'm not going back," I said quickly, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "Whatever you're suggesting, whatever Mother thinks she can offer me now—I won't return to the coven."
But Lilith's knowing look stopped me cold.
"You need to see something," she said quietly, reaching toward my face.
"Don't…" I tried to pull back, but her palm pressed against my forehead before I could escape.
The vision that followed was absolutely horrific.
I saw myself in the cathedral during morning mass, my power completely out of control as blood magic turned acidic and began eating through the ancient stones.
Flames consuming everything while parishioners screamed and tried to escape. Sister Agnes collapsing as supernatural fire consumed her weathered face as the shelter women I'd grown to love burning alive while their children wailed in terror.
And Mikael—dear God, Mikael—trying desperately to reach me through the inferno.
His hunter's training is useless against magic this raw and destructive. His final expression was one of heartbreaking betrayal as he realized what I truly was.
"Stop," I gasped, but the images continued relentlessly. "Stop it!"
When the vision finally faded, I was on my knees in the snow, the cold seeping through my dress, sobbing with a despair I'd never experienced before.
"Are you really ready to continue and risk that future?" Lilith asked gently, kneeling beside me with something approaching sisterly affection. "All because of stubbornness? Or will you act like a smart girl and do the right thing?"
"The right thing?" I laughed bitterly through my tears. "You mean surrendering myself to Mother's ritual? Becoming her weapon for genocide?"
"That's not necessary anymore," Lilith said, her voice carrying surprising conviction. "Don't you see? Your power awakening changes everything. You can return to the coven now and prove you're valuable rather than expendable. Show Mother that you're worth more alive than as a sacrifice."
She reached out to brush tears from my cheek with uncharacteristic gentleness.
"We can all move forward from this terrible chapter, Rowan. You can learn to control what's happening to you before someone truly gets hurt. Before you destroy everything you've come to care about here."
Part of me suspected this was a trap, another manipulation designed to lure me back within Mother's reach.
But the images of people I now genuinely loved suffering in agony because of my presence made the offer impossible to dismiss entirely.
"I need time to think," I whispered.
"Of course," Lilith agreed, rising gracefully. "But don't take too long, sister. That girl tonight was lucky. The next person might not be."
She melted back into the shadows as suddenly as she'd appeared, leaving me alone with the terrible weight of choice.
Inside the cathedral, I could hear the social event winding down, voices discussing the evening's shocking incident with concerned murmurs. Mikael would be looking for me soon, worried about my reaction to the trauma we'd all witnessed.
If only he knew the truth—that his wife was the monster they should all be protecting themselves from.