He has fired seven nurses this week, and if your child makes a single sound, you will both be thrown into the snow, Chief Guard Mikhail warned me at the heavy iron gates of the Volkov estate.
The State Troopers moved with practiced efficiency. Two more officers quickly descended through the shattered ceiling, securing the perimeter.
Drake thrashed on the floor, snarling, but the lead trooper held him down with an unyielding grip. His black eyes, moments ago filled with otherworldly power, now flickered with impotent fury.
“This isn’t over!” Drake spat, struggling against the trooper. “You have no idea what you’ve interfered with!”
“It’s over for you, Drake,” Detective Jenkins said, stepping into the library, her expression cold and resolute. She held out a pair of metal handcuffs.
As the cold metal snapped around Drake’s wrists, a remarkable thing happened. The spectral shadows, which had been physically sealing the library doors and pressing in from the corners of the room, instantly dissolved.
They didn’t just fade; they evaporated into harmless tendrils of steam, rising towards the gaping hole in the ceiling before vanishing completely. The oppressive cold that had permeated the room lifted, replaced by the crisp, cool air of the night.
A wave of warmth washed over me, a profound sense of relief.
From the adjacent master bedroom, a faint, deep sound reached us. Damian Volkov, who had been on the brink of death, suddenly took a deep, warm breath.
A medical monitor on the trooper’s tablet, linked to Damian’s vitals, flashed green. His body temperature, which had been frozen at 28°F, shot back up to a healthy 98.6°F. The spectral blue flames that had been consuming his room were gone, leaving no trace.
Drake, handcuffed and being hoisted to his feet by two troopers, saw the monitor. His eyes widened in disbelief, then narrowed into a furious glare at me.
“You meddling witch!” he screamed, his voice raw with defeat. “This isn’t over!”
But his threats were meaningless now. Six officers surrounded him, guiding him firmly out of the library, past the now-open doors, and towards a waiting armored transport.
Lily, who had been silent through the chaos, now looked up at me, her small face filled with a quiet understanding. The fear was gone from her eyes, replaced by a calm serenity.
The weight of the manor, the weight of the curse, had been lifted.
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