Chapter 11: The Reflection - Bloodween

“THAT’S WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR.”

I almost didn’t recognize myself in the mirror.

I looked the same, but I felt different—like I’d been rewritten.

I guess that’s what transcendence does.

It had only been twelve hours since I said my oath, joining the Crimson Circle and leaving my blood on the pages of the Bloodborn Book. But it felt like days.

Physically, I was fine.

Mentally, I was still somewhere between the taste of his blood on my tongue and being strapped down to a bed fighting for my life.

Master Vale said recovery could take days. That the thirst scratching at the back of my throat would fade—but at this moment it was irritating.

After all that vomiting I’d done, I would think his taste would’ve dissolved by now.

It hadn’t.

It lingered, stubborn as memory, leaving me wanting more.

As Bloodborn, Dorian’s wolf blood had fed my dormant vampire gene—heightening my magic, my longevity, and my vampiric resonance.

I wasn’t a vampire. Not exactly. But my bloodline had been. And the blood that gave us power—the blood that made us—was werewolf blood.

That’s why centuries later, werewolves were still sacrificing themselves for us.

Albeit, sometimes against their will.

But that sacrifice couldn’t be taken lightly. We couldn’t just kill werewolves for our own thirst, it had to be a sanctioned ritual.

Or now that I was part of the Crimson Circle, the yearly small feedings we would do on Halloween.

So the thirst resting in my bones needed to chill.

I’d been given enough.

Hell, it had almost taken me out.

At the thought, my eyes drifted to the urn resting on my dresser. Gold. Just like his eyes. His ashes were inside to keep me company and remind me what he’d done.

How he’d died for me.

I traced a finger across the lid, feeling the faint chill of the metal.

“Thank you,” I mumbled as five sharp knocks echoed through my apartment.

My attention went from him to my phone. The camera feed popped up.

Renna.

Shit.

Here we go.

I hadn’t talked to her. I had hoped I’d have more time, but I should’ve known better. Her man and I had both dropped off the face of the earth. Couldn’t expect her not to come looking.

I swung the door open right after the seventh knock. She looked like she hadn’t slept. Her braids were piled into a messy bun, eyes red, jacket half-zipped like she’d ran here.

“Armi,” she rushed out, a mix of relief and annoyance. “You’re okay! I’ve been—God, I’ve been calling you, texting you. I even came by yesterday.”

I blinked, playing dumb. “You did?”

“Yes! You didn’t answer. I’ve been freaking out—what happened?”

“Girl, I’ve been sick since the party.” I tugged at the hospital band that had magically appeared on my wrist.

Of course I’d been prepared for her ambush. I knew my bestie.

Her expression morphed, worry tightening her mouth. “Since the party?”

“Yeah. I ate something right after you left and twenty minutes later, I was on the toilet. Barely made it home. Threw up so much I ended up in the hospital.”

“Oh my goodness.” She threw her arms around me, damn near knocking me over as she came inside. “I wish you would’ve called me!”

“I lost my phone on the way home that night. Didn’t get a new one until today—it’s been the last thing on my mind.”

“Damn, you were down that bad?”

“Girl,” I giggled, “I can describe my toilet in vivid detail.”

“Oh, babes,” she pouted. “I’m so sorry. And sorry for coming in here all crazy. But between you and Dro, I’ve been losing my mind. Thought you were mad at me.”

“Mad? Why would I be mad?” I asked, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my robe, fingers moving through the powder inside.

“Because I was gone for like an hour. You know you run a strict program, I thought you left because I took too long.”

I gave her a faint smile. “The way my life has been set up, I almost forgot about all of that. How did everything with that go? The last text I saw said you were over his mess.”

“I would be, but he’s missing.”

“Missing?” I laughed.

He’s not missing, hun. He’s dead.

“You mean he ghosted you? Please stop the dramatics.”

“I’m not! I haven’t heard from him since the text he sent yesterday morning. Haven’t spoken to him since the party.”

“What was the convo? Did you confront him about what you found?”

Time to put my non-existent acting degree to use.

“He wasn’t even there when I got back, Armi.”

I stilled long enough for her to keep talking.

“I’ve called, texted, went back to his house. Everything and nothing. He hasn’t been home.”

“Oh.” I frowned. “Has he done anything like this before?”

“He can be petty—we both can—but never this long.” She nibbled on her lip. “Okay,” she said, lifting her hands, “I did text him that I knew all the shit he was hiding—what I saw on his iPad.”

I winced because I had seen those texts when I went through their messages.

“Did I go a smidge off the rails? Yes. But you know how I can get. He was ignoring me when earlier that day I already had to deal with some bitch sending me a photo of him in her bed. That’s why⁠—”

“You didn’t tell me that!” This time, I was genuinely intrigued.

“I was too embarrassed.” She shook her head. “He was playing me. For all I know he left the party and went to that hoe house. Was he still there when you left?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “And I left probably five minutes after you said you were on your way back.”

“I shoulda brought my ass back then instead of getting caught up.” She sighed. “I wanna be like fuck him, but also ghosting me is insane. What the hell?”

“That shows what kind of man he is. You deserve better, Ren. Sitting around worried about his cheating ass for what? Do you even want to still be with him?”

“No, but⁠—”

“See!” I nudged her shoulder. “That but tells me all I need to know.”

After experiencing the D, I couldn’t fault her. But what kind of friend would encourage staying with a cheater? Even if…

“You don’t understand, Armisha. You don’t understand what we have—what we had.”

“You’re right,” I said, pushing my hair out of my face. “Because a cheating man is gonna keep doing him if you allow it.”

“It’s more than that.”

“How?”

She paused, staring at me, fidgeting. “Remember at the party when I told you I had something to tell you?”

My head cocked to the side. “Yeah.”

“It’s… it’s something super crazy, and I don’t know how to say it, because I don’t know how you’re gonna react.”

I squinted my eyes, fearing the worst. “Ren… are you pregnant?”

She jerked her head back. “Absolutely not.”

Whew. I might’ve felt bad if she were.

Okay, probably not.

“Promise you’re not gonna think I’m bullshitting you, because I’m not. This is the truth. It’s something I’ve been keeping.”

“Just spit it out.”

“Do you believe in ghosts and shit like that?”

“Renna…”

“I’m a werewolf.”

Oh, now I’m worthy of the secret. Well, too late for that.

I stared at her for a beat before laughing.

“Armi, this is not funny. I’m not joking.”

I put the actress side of me into overdrive.

“Wait, wait, wait—are you gonna tell me Dorian’s a werewolf too? Are y’all mates?”

“No,” she said quickly. “We’re kind of chosen. Well… I wanted us to choose each other.”

I had to keep laughing to mask the small ache I felt from the word chosen. Renna had wanted Dorian—Varek—to choose her. And all it took was for one night for him to mark me.

“Why are you laughing, Armisha?!” She slapped my knee. “I’m serious.”

“It’s the way you said it, ‘I’m a werewolf,’ all whispery—it was kinda funny.”

“You’re annoying.” She rolled her eyes and then squinted them, as if realizing she’d told me her secret all over again.

“Why aren’t you freaking out? This is not a joke.”

To prove her point, she lifted her chin—and her eyes flared that pretty shade of gold as her mouth opened, showing off her deadly teeth.

“I told you, I know that. But since we’re sharing secrets…” I let my magic rise, my freshly blood-red eyes on display. I saw them glowing in the mirror behind her and got giddy inside.

I was really a Bloodborn.

All thanks to the werewolf in front of me…kinda, sorta.

Her eyes widened.

“Oh my God,” she whispered as if we weren’t the only ones in my apartment. “You’re one of those Crimson Witches.”

This was me and Dorian in the cabin all over again. But her reaction wasn’t fear—it was excitement.

“Oh my God,” she screamed, grinning. “This can’t be real life! There’s no way my best friend’s a witch!”

We both laughed—that shaky, relieved laugh that fills the room when something unbelievable suddenly feels too real.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

“Same reason you didn’t tell me.”

She huffed. “Damn, if I knew you were a witch, I would’ve had you cast a spell on his cheating ass.”

“And I would’ve,” I stated matter-of-factly. “Because that’s what friends are for.”

That got another deep laugh out of us both.

“This honestly gives me so much relief. I’ve wanted to tell you, but we have such strict rules around that—like y’all do. I had to be sure. But I trust that you’ll keep my secret, like I will yours.”

“Of course,” I said easily. We hugged and talked a little more about what it was like being supernatural. I had to admit, it felt nice talking to her about it.

Except for that one little part about me almost killing her.

“By the way,” I said, bringing the conversation back around to make sure we closed up loose ends. “I know all this stuff with Dorian is a lot. I’ll do my part to help you get through it. When he shows back up, we’ll tell him to piss off. If he can’t control his urges, you deserve better—someone who chooses you.”

“You’re right.” She smiled. It reached her eyes enough for me not to have to release the memory-erasing dust that had been swirling around in my pocket.

The unwritten rule of Bloodween: never underestimate a werewolf.

So I’d been prepared for the worst—but for now, I think she was going to be okay. In due time, she’d think he left town and ran off.

And if she or anyone else became a threat, my coven would do what needed to be done to erase him from memory.

“I feel like we need to go out and celebrate!” She lifted her arms above her head. “The start of a new month and a new level of our friendship.”

“Tonight?” I raised a brow.

“What’s better than the present?” She batted her lashes and I shook my head.

“Now,” she pointed at me, “if you’re going to be my witchy bestie, I hope you can do one of those spells that can get us dressed in two seconds.”

I smirked. “Light work. What are we feeling like?”

“For you.” She tapped her chin. “Something red and lacy. Dark and spicy.”

“I likes.”

“For meee,” she sang, “same energy but gold.”

Before she could blink good, I did it. She glanced down, grinning.

“Ohhh, I’m going to love having you as a friend.”

“What you didn’t already?”

She waved me off. “You know what I mean.” She got up and looked at herself in the mirror. “To think I was about to sulk and waste all this fineness over a man. I think the fuck not.”

“Exactly.” I stood beside her. “We look amazing and I see what everybody be talking about. We could definitely pass for sisters.”

“Twins!”

“Right,” I nodded, letting my villain side take one final dig. “Somebody might kidnap me thinking I’m you.”

“Oh my God.” She gripped my arm. “I actually thought Dorian⁠—”

She stopped herself mid-sentence.

“You thought Dorian what?”

“Another crazy confession—but—I thought he might’ve kidnapped you thinking you were me.”

You don’t say.

“What? Why would he kidnap his girlfriend?”

She blushed, hiding her face behind her hands. “My wolf has a little captivity kink.”

“Ew,” I dragged out. “No judgment, but yeah, that would’ve been wild if he did.”

“Right.” She grabbed her phone off the couch. “He would’ve fussed my ass out when he saw it was you.”

Kinda accurate.

“Yeah, I bet he would’ve,” I said as we posed for selfies.

“Anyway,” she let out a long sigh, “before I forget—I never said thank you for switching costumes with me. Thank you for being there for me then and now. You’re really a great friend, Armi.”

She threw her arms around me and I allowed myself to feel her warmth, her friendship. I did love Renna. She was truly my best friend and that’s why I would’ve sacrificed her.

But now that all is said and done, I’m glad I didn’t. Even if I missed my little wolf.

“Anytime. I’m always here for you, Ren.”

“Okay!” She fanned herself. “Let me go tinkle before we leave or I start crying. I can’t wait to get drunk.”

I giggled. “Same.”

As soon as she disappeared down the hall, I looked at myself in the mirror again. I deserved a round of applause for the Oscar worthy performance I put on tonight. By the end of it all, I almost forgot that Dorian wasn’t really missing—but resting nice and cozy on my dresser.

And tonight little wolf, I’ll celebrate your life for you.

That’s what gratitude looks like, right?

My magic roared beneath my skin as I twirled around.

Red was definitely my color.

That’s why I’d always associated it with power. Red lipstick. Red dresses. Red wine. In my world—in the world of The Crimson Witches of the Blood Coven—red was our identity. Red meant magic. Red meant sacrifice. Red meant blood.

Apparently, red also meant betrayal, lies, and I guess sometimes love.

Not for me though; be safe out there.

Happy Bloodween.

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