Updated Mar 10, 2026 • ~7 min read
The next morning, Damien tells Sera everything.
The woman. The threat. The promise of vengeance.
“We need to leave,” he says. “Somewhere she can’t find us.”
“Running won’t work. If she’s as powerful as Isolde, she’ll track us.”
“Then what do we do?”
Sera looks at Catherine, sleeping peacefully in her cradle.
“We fight. Again. But smarter this time.”
“With a baby to protect.”
“Yes. Which means we can’t afford to lose.”
They send for help.
Lilith arrives first.
She’s heard rumors of Isolde’s sister.
“Her name is Morgana. Older than Isolde by centuries. More powerful. More ruthless.”
“Why didn’t she come sooner? Why wait a year after Isolde’s death?”
“Mourning, maybe. Or planning. Morgana doesn’t act impulsively. She strategizes.”
“So we’re facing a smarter, stronger Isolde.”
“Essentially, yes.”
Not encouraging.
Gideon brings what information the church has.
“Morgana has been dormant for decades. We thought she was dead. But apparently she was just… waiting.”
“For what?”
“Unclear. But your defeat of Isolde may have awakened her. Challenged her.”
“So this is about pride? Vengeance?”
“Both. And power. If Morgana defeats you—defeats the people who killed her sister—it sends a message. Makes her feared again.”
They have two weeks to prepare.
Morgana gave them that much.
A deadline.
“Two weeks from the full moon, I’ll return. Be ready to face justice.”
Justice meaning death, presumably.
Sera throws herself into research.
Looking for weaknesses. Patterns. Anything.
Damien handles physical defenses.
Weapons. Wards. Escape routes if necessary.
Marcus organizes the household.
Moving Catherine to the most protected room. Establishing guard rotations.
They work like they’re preparing for war.
Because they are.
One week until the deadline.
Sera finds something.
A passage in an old book about witch families.
“Morgana and Isolde were powerful separately. But together, they were unstoppable. Their magic was linked. Complementary.”
“So?”
“So with Isolde dead, Morgana’s power is halved. She’s vulnerable in a way she wasn’t before.”
“But still more powerful than us.”
“Yes. But beatable. Theoretically.”
Damien looks at the passage.
“This says their power was linked through blood bonds. Family magic.”
“Right.”
“And blood bonds can be broken. Or redirected.”
They look at each other.
An idea forming.
They spend the next days experimenting.
Using their own blood bond as a model.
“If we can create a counter-bond—something that disrupts her magic—we might weaken her enough to fight.”
“How do we create a counter-bond?”
“Same way we created ours. Blood. Magic. Intent.”
“But whose blood?”
Sera hesitates.
“Mine and yours. And… Catherine’s.”
Damien goes rigid.
“Absolutely not. We’re not involving our daughter in magical warfare.”
“We’re not asking her to fight. Just to anchor the spell. Her blood connects us. Family magic against family magic.”
“She’s six months old!”
“I know. But Morgana will kill all of us if we don’t stop her. Including Catherine. At least this way, Catherine contributes to her own protection.”
Damien wants to argue.
But can’t.
Because Sera is right.
They perform the ritual two days before the deadline.
Gideon officiates.
Lilith assists.
Marcus holds Catherine.
The baby is fussy. Uncomfortable with all the activity.
“This will just be a small prick,” Sera says, preparing the needle. “Quick. I promise.”
She takes a drop of blood from Catherine’s finger.
The baby cries.
Damien looks like he’s being tortured.
“I hate this.”
“Me too.”
They add Catherine’s blood to their own.
Three drops. Three people. One family.
The ritual completes.
Magic flares.
Binding them together.
Not just as individuals, but as a unit.
Family bond.
Stronger than Morgana’s broken sisterhood.
At least in theory.
The night before the deadline.
Neither Sera nor Damien sleep.
They sit with Catherine.
Watching her sleep.
“If something happens to us tomorrow—” Damien starts.
“Nothing will happen.”
“But if it does. Marcus has instructions. He’ll take Catherine. Raise her somewhere safe.”
“I know.”
“And the estate goes to Edmund. With provisions for Catherine when she’s older.”
“You’ve thought of everything.”
“I’m trying. This is my family. I need to protect them.”
Sera takes his hand.
“We’ll protect them. Together. Like we always do.”
The deadline day.
They prepare.
Weapons. Wards. Protection spells.
Catherine is secured in the safest room with Marcus and Clara.
Iron-reinforced. Blessed. Protected.
“If we don’t come back—” Sera starts.
“You’ll come back,” Marcus interrupts. “You always do.”
“But if we don’t—”
“I’ll protect her. I swear on my life.”
“Thank you.”
They wait in the garden.
Where everything always happens.
Sunset approaches.
And right on time, Morgana appears.
She’s taller than Isolde.
Younger-looking despite being older.
Beautiful in a cold, inhuman way.
“So you’re the ones who killed my sister.”
“She killed herself,” Damien says. “We just stopped her from killing us.”
“Semantics. She’s dead. You’re responsible. Now you pay.”
“Or,” Sera says, “you leave. Walk away. Find a better use of your time than revenge for a sister who was objectively terrible.”
Morgana’s eyes flash.
“Isolde was family. Family is everything.”
“Then you should understand why we’re fighting. We’re protecting our family too.”
“Your family?” Morgana looks toward the manor. “You have a child. How sweet. How fragile.”
Damien steps forward.
Beast partially emerging.
Protective. Threatening.
“You touch her and I’ll tear you apart.”
Morgana laughs.
“You think your little curse scares me? I’ve seen real monsters. You’re a puppy.”
She raises her hands.
Magic gathering.
Dark. Overwhelming.
More powerful than Isolde ever was.
This is it.
The fight they might not win.
But they have to try.
For Catherine. For themselves. For everything they’ve built.
The magic releases—
And Sera activates their family bond.
Redirecting the energy.
Dispersing it.
Not completely. But enough.
Morgana stumbles.
“What did you do?”
“Family magic. Our bond against your broken one. Three against one. We win.”
Morgana snarls.
“You think a ritual gives you power over me? I’ve been practicing magic for five hundred years!”
“And we’ve been surviving impossible odds for one. Quality over quantity.”
They fight.
Magic versus magic.
Morgana is stronger individually.
But Sera, Damien, and Catherine’s bond creates something Morgana can’t match.
Unity.
Complete, unbreakable unity.
The battle rages for hours.
Destroying parts of the garden. Scorching earth.
Both sides exhausted.
Then Morgana makes a mistake.
Targets the manor.
Where Catherine is.
Damien’s beast fully emerges.
Not in rage. In protection.
He intercepts the magic.
Takes the hit.
Collapses.
“NO!” Sera screams.
She releases everything.
All the magic. All the bond’s power.
Directly at Morgana.
It slams into the witch.
Throwing her back.
Breaking her concentration.
Giving Sera time to reach Damien.
He’s unconscious. Bleeding.
But alive.
“Stay with me. Please. Catherine needs you. I need you.”
Morgana recovers.
Prepares another attack.
But then—
Voices.
Chanting.
The villagers.
Led by Gideon.
They’re praying. Creating a ward. Protecting the manor.
“You’re not alone,” Gideon calls. “We stand with you!”
Morgana looks around.
At the united community.
All defending this family.
She’s powerful.
But she’s alone.
And alone can’t beat united.
“This isn’t over,” she hisses.
“Yes it is,” Sera says. “Go. Leave. Find a new purpose. Or we’ll end you like we ended your sister.”
Morgana stares at her.
Assessing. Calculating.
Then vanishes.
Not defeated. But deterred.
For now.
Damien wakes hours later.
In their bed. Bandaged. Healing.
“Catherine?” he croaks.
“Safe. Marcus has her.”
“Morgana?”
“Gone. For now. But not defeated.”
“So it’s not over.”
“No. But we won this round. And we’ll win the next.”
Damien pulls her close.
“I’m tired of fighting witches.”
“Same. But we’re very good at it.”
“That’s not comforting.”
“No. But it’s true.”
They hold each other.
Alive. Together.
Still fighting.
But still winning.
And sometimes, that’s all you can ask for.
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