Hi, everyone. This takes place after the season 5 finale of Pretty Little Liars, so in early 2012. This story is going into a different direction because this is a crossover. I don't own any of the characters, settings, etc because they all belong to their respective owners.
The night air was sharp and bitter against their skin as the Liars stumbled out of the Dollhouse, disoriented and terrified. The dense woods surrounding them stretched on in every direction, dark and unyielding. Hanna, Spencer, Aria, and Emily exchanged tense glances, their hearts hammering in sync as adrenaline coursed through them. They had escaped, but not for long. The cool, dense and unforgiving night air hit the Liars realized where they were. They were outside the fence! How? Breathless, their bodies ached, weighed down by the trauma of endless days trapped inside those twisted walls. The only light around them came from the moon, casting an eerie glow on the makeshift graveyard ahead, the final resting place that A had so sadistically designed for them.
"It won't take A long to realize we're gone." Emily breathed, looking over her shoulder, half-expecting someone to burst out from the eerie mansion behind them. The Dollhouse loomed, a monstrous silhouette in the darkness, and she shivered involuntarily.
"No." Spencer agreed, her voice strained but steady. "That's why we need to make this look real. A has eyes everywhere. We can't risk being hunted again."
Hanna glanced around, spotting a broken-down shed a few feet away. "There's fuel in there." she murmured, her gaze sharpening. "If we set this place on fire—burn ZXAria's eyes widened. "Are you serious? If A finds even a trace of us, we're as good as dead."
"We're already dead if we don't try." Spencer countered, stepping forward. The moonlight caught the determination in her eyes. "We need to disappear—for real this time."
The others hesitated, exchanging wary looks. One by one, they nodded. The plan was crazy, dangerous, but it was their only chance. They moved quickly, methodically, grabbing old rags, dousing them in fuel, and spreading them around the perimeter. As Spencer struck a match, the flame sparked to life, tiny and fragile, casting ghostly shadows on their faces.
"This is it." she whispered, her voice tight with fear and resolve.
The fire caught with a whoosh, flames licking hungrily at the walls of the Dollhouse. The heat blazed around them, searing and relentless. Smoke filled the air, stinging their eyes, but they stood their ground and watching as the inferno roared to life.
"Run!" Hanna shouted as the blaze spread. They turned and sprinted, racing into the dense woods. Branches whipped at their faces and snagged their clothes, but they didn't stop, pushing forward until they could barely see the flickering glow of the Dollhouse in the distance.
They collapsed onto the ground, breathing hard. For a moment, silence enveloped them, broken only by the distant crackling of the flames. They had done it. They had burned their prison to the ground, but the realization of what came next was sobering.
When the smoke cleared, the Dollhouse lay hidden behind the wall of stone and flame. From the outside, it looked like an explosion had ripped through the clearing—debris was scattered everywhere, trees were burning, and there was no sign of the Liars. It was as if they'd been vaporized in the blast.
"That should keep them thinking we're gone," Aria murmured, her voice shaking.
Mona slowly stood, her eyes wide and calculating. "How—how did you do that?" she breathed, staring at each of them in turn. Her gaze lingered on Emily, whose hands were smeared with dirt and blood, and Hanna, who looked like a figure from a painting, backlit by the inferno.
"We…we don't know," Spencer admitted, voice tight. "It just happened."
Mona scoffed, a sharp sound. "Of course. You get powers too, just like that?" she bit out, bitterness twisting her features. "It's not enough that you have each other—now you can control everything?"
"We didn't ask for this, Mona," Emily said softly, stepping closer. "But right now, we need to figure out how to get home."
"Home?" Mona let out a dark laugh. "We're miles from anywhere, and they'll be looking for us. There's no home for any of us if we can't survive tonight."
"Then help us," Hanna shot back. "Unless you want to stay here."
Mona's eyes narrowed, her jaw clenched. She glanced over at the remnants of the smoke cloud. In her own chest, she could feel something too—something dark and potent that responded to the powers she'd just witnessed. But it was chaotic, dangerous—nothing like the elemental control the Liars seemed to have stumbled upon.
"Fine," she said, voice dripping with resentment. "But I'm not playing the sidekick this time."
Aria, clutching the edge of her glittering dress, nodded slowly. "You don't have to be. Just…stay with us."
The words hung in the air, softening something in Mona's expression, if only for a moment. She glanced away, eyes lingering on the wall of rock and fire that separated them from their past. Then she sighed, rubbing her temple.
"Let's move before they realize the fire's a fake-out," Mona muttered. "If we're doing this, we're doing it my way."
"Lead the way, then," Spencer said, and for once, there was no trace of argument in her tone.
Mona gave them a long, searching look. Then she turned on her heel and began striding into the forest, the others falling in behind her, dresses trailing like shadows in the dark. And for the first time in a long time, the Liars found themselves trusting Mona Vanderwaal—not just because they had no choice, but because she was the only one who knew how to turn fear and chaos into a weapon.
They moved quickly, the forest whispering around them, and as they ran, the power simmering beneath their skin shifted and twisted, waiting to be unleashed. But tonight wasn't about fighting back. It was about survival.
They had faked their deaths, and now they were on the run. But for the first time, with these new abilities and a shared secret binding them closer than ever, they didn't feel like prey.
They felt dangerous.
"We need to find a way out of here." Aria murmured, her voice small. "We don't have phones, no money so how are we supposed to survive?"
"Where do we even go?" Emily added, brushing back her hair with trembling fingers. "We can't go home. A will be waiting."
Spencer closed her eyes, thinking furiously. They were miles from Rosewood, lost and alone. As she looked at her friends—her sisters in this nightmare—and Mona, something fierce surged inside her. She wouldn't let A win. Not again.
"We'll find a way." she said firmly. "First, we need to figure out—"
A sudden, shimmering light rippled around them, cutting her off mid-sentence. It glowed softly, emanating from the ground beneath them, spreading outward in a delicate, luminous web. The Liars gasped, staring in shock as the light swirled around their feet, forming intricate patterns in the dirt.
"What… what is this?" Hanna whispered, eyes wide with fear.
"I—I don't know," Spencer stammered, backing up. As she moved, the light seemed to follow her, responding to her presence.
Aria raised a trembling hand, reaching toward the glow. The moment her fingers brushed the edge of the pattern, a jolt shot through her—electric and powerful. Her eyes widened as warmth spread through her veins, a strange, exhilarating sensation.
"I feel…stronger," she whispered, staring down at her hand in disbelief.
"Me too." Emily murmured, touching her own wrist where the light seemed to pulse like a heartbeat. "What is this?"
Hanna looked around wildly. "Guys, this is crazy. We need to—"
Then the ground beneath them shifted, and the glowing web surged upward, enveloping them in a cocoon of light. They screamed, clutching at each other as energy crackled in the air. Power rushed through them—untamed, wild—and in that split second, something inside them changed.
The light exploded outward, and they were thrown backward, landing in a tangled heap. For a moment, they lay there, stunned, blinking against the darkness. The glowing patterns had vanished, but the feeling remained—a thrumming energy just beneath their skin.
"What…what just happened?" Spencer breathed, struggling to sit up.
"I don't know," Aria said shakily, but as she looked at her friends, she saw the same shock—and something else. "But I think… we're not the same anymore."
Emily pushed herself to her feet, staring down at her hands. "Guys," she whispered, a note of awe in her voice. "Look."
They followed her gaze—and froze.
The ground around them was scorched, charred in a perfect circle. Spencer's breath caught in her throat. "What does this mean?"
"It means," Hanna said slowly, her voice unsteady but fierce, "that A has no idea who they're messing with."
Aria's lips curved into a grim smile. "If A thought we were dangerous before…"
Emily glanced around and then back at her friends, her gaze steady. "We're going to survive this." she said softly, a spark of determination flaring in her eyes. "When we do, we're going to make A regret everything."
Spencer stood, drawing herself up. "But first, let's figure out what we can do."
Together, they turned away from the ruins of the Dollhouse, stepping into the unknown. The woods were dark and treacherous, but as the Liars moved forward, a strange, shimmering light flickered beneath their skin—a new power, untamed and wild, awakening within them.
They weren't just escaping anymore.
They were becoming something more.
Something unstoppable.
It's the dead of night when they slip back into Rosewood, still in their animal forms. The house they've chosen is abandoned, and the fire is quick, fierce, and devastating. As the flames rise, the four girls gather at the edge of the woods, watching as the inferno consumes everything.
Spencer's gaze is fixed on the burning house, heart aching at the thought of what Toby will feel when he finds out. Hanna's fox form huddles close to her, and they exchange a sorrowful look.
"We have to leave something behind." Hanna whispers, the thought resonating in Spencer's mind.
A decision made, they revert to their human forms, trembling with the effort. Spencer pulls out her phone, hands shaking as she types out a message:
"I love you, more than you'll ever know." It's sent to Toby's number, but timestamped to look like it was sent before the fire began.
Hanna does the same, sending Caleb a message that simply reads:
"I'll always love you."
They linger for a moment, staring at the fire, before slipping back into their animal forms. With one last look, they turn and vanish into the forest.
Pretty Little Liars
The darkness is almost suffocating, broken only by the sickly orange glow of flames licking hungrily at the structure ahead—the twisted, nightmarish house that has haunted their lives for so long. A's Dollhouse. It stands tall and menacing against the black sky, its walls trembling under the relentless assault of fire. The roof is already sagging, the once pristine white siding now blackened and charred. Sparks fly in all directions as the blaze consumes the place that had held so many of their secrets, fears, and pain.
Toby Cavanaugh stands frozen at the treeline, his heart pounding so violently he can barely breathe. He can feel the heat from the fire even from this distance, a scorching wave of intensity that makes his skin prickle and his throat tighten. He doesn't move. He can't move because he knows what that place is and he knows who's trapped inside.
"No," he breathes, his voice barely more than a strangled whisper. "No, no, no…"
Despite him wanting it to stop, the flames keep roaring as they were climbing higher and higher, licking at the sky like some ravenous, living beast. The entire structure is a twisted maze of fire and smoke, the walls glowing red-hot, the roof caving in. It's an inferno—a deathtrap.
Spencer is in there.
"Spencer!" The scream tears from his throat, raw and desperate, as he lurches forward. He doesn't think, doesn't hesitate. His only thought is to get to her. To find her. He stumbles through the underbrush, his eyes locked on the burning Dollhouse, panic clawing at his chest. "Spencer, no—"
"Toby, stop!" Strong hands grab him, yanking him back. He whirls around, wild-eyed, and comes face-to-face with Chief Patrick Glaser, his voice barely audible over the roar of the flames.
"Let me go!" Toby shouts, struggling violently. "They're in there! She's in—"
"You can't go in there!" Glaser barks, his grip tightening on Toby's arms. His face is set in hard, grim lines, but there's something else in his eyes, something that makes Toby's heart lurch painfully.
Pity.
"Let go of me!" Toby snarls, wrenching himself free. He stumbles forward, but Glaser catches him again, pulling him back. "No, let go! She's in there! Spencer's in there—"
"She's gone, Toby!" Glaser shouts, his voice breaking through the chaos. "There's nothing you can do."
The words hit him like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath from his lungs. He reels back, staring at Glaser in shock, his chest heaving, his mind refusing to process what he's just heard.
Gone?
No. That's not possible. She can't be gone. He was only a few minutes behind her. He'd been on his way, driving like a madman through the back roads, his phone ringing endlessly as he tried to reach her. Now…
"No," he whispers, shaking his head frantically. "No, she's not gone. She's—she's in there, she's—"
"Toby." Glaser murmurs, his voice low, pained. He reaches out, resting a hand on Toby's shoulder, his grip firm but gentle. "Look at it. There's no way anyone could survive that."
Toby can't look. He won't. Because if he looks—if he really sees the flames, the smoke, the wreckage—it'll be real. It'll mean she's really gone. He can't—
"Toby!" Another voice cuts through the chaos, sharp and desperate. Toby turns, his heart lurching, and sees Mike Foster sprinting toward them, his face pale, his eyes wide with panic.
"They're gone." Mike gasps, skidding to a halt beside them. His voice is raw, choked. "There's—there's nothing left. The whole place is…" He trails off, his gaze flicking to the blaze, and Toby sees it—the same look of horror and helplessness that's tearing him apart.
"No," Toby whispers again, his voice breaking. His hands are trembling, his legs unsteady beneath him. "No, they—they have to be—"
He can't finish. The words die in his throat, strangled and choked because even as he says it, even as he wants to believe it, he knows it's a lie.
The entire structure is collapsing in on itself, the flames swallowing everything whole. Every inch of that twisted maze—the place that had held Spencer and the others captive, the place that had haunted his nightmares—it's all being reduced to ash and smoke.
They're gone.
"Spencer." he chokes out, his voice a broken sob. He falls to his knees, the ground biting into his skin, but he doesn't feel it. He doesn't feel anything except the crushing, suffocating weight of loss bearing down on him, squeezing his chest until he can't breathe. "Spencer, no…"
The flames roar higher, the heat searing his face, his lungs burning with every ragged breath. He should be doing something. He should be fighting, screaming, something, but he can't move. He's paralyzed, trapped in a nightmare he can't wake up from. He can't feel anything except the raw, crushing agony tearing through his chest.
"She's gone, Toby." Glaser murmurs, his voice soft, filled with a terrible finality. "They're all gone."
"No," Toby whispers, shaking his head frantically. "No, she's—she's not—"
He can't deny it. He can't pretend. Because the truth is staring him in the face, blazing and undeniable.
The Dollhouse is gone and Spencer is gone with it.
A sob rips out of him, raw and broken, tearing through his chest like a jagged knife. He bows his head, his shoulders shaking violently, the tears burning hot and bitter as they spill over.
"Spencer," he whispers, his voice shattered. "Oh God, Spencer…" There's no answer. No movement. No sign of life. There's nothing but the crackling of the flames, the distant wail of sirens growing louder, and the crushing, suffocating weight of loss as he knows that he's lost her forever.
He failed her. He failed all of them and now they're gone.
Toby makes his way through the town square. He moves slowly, his shoulders hunched, his face pale and drawn. He looks like a ghost, hollowed out and empty, every step an effort. The weight of grief clings to him like a second skin, suffocating and heavy, a constant reminder of what he's lost.
Spencer is gone.
He's been telling himself that, forcing himself to accept it, to face the brutal, awful truth. But every time he closes his eyes, he sees her face—smiling, laughing, alive. And every time he opens them, he expects to find her there, waiting for him, but she's not. She's gone and she's never coming back.
His Spencer.
The girl who made him believe in forever, the girl he'd promised to protect, to love, to fight for—she's gone.
"Toby." Mike whispers, his voice tight with grief. "I'm—I'm so sorry." The words are meaningless, empty, because there's nothing left to say. Nothing left to save.
Nothing left at all.
The forest is dark and silent, the smell of smoke thick in the air. Deeper in the woods, far from the burning wreckage of the cabin, four figures huddle together, hidden in the shadows.
Spencer, Hanna, Emily, and Aria.
Their faces are pale, eyes wide with shock as they watch the flames in the distance, the cabin they were hiding in—supposed to be safe in—consumed by fire.
Spencer's hands are shaking, her breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps. She can't take her eyes off the blaze, can't believe what she's seeing.
"Toby's there." she whispers, her voice a broken, hollow sound. "He's—he's right there." Spencer gasps, doubling over, the weight of it crushing her.
He does think that. He's standing there, watching the fire, thinking that she's gone. That they're all gone and there's nothing anyone can do.
"I'm sorry," she whispers, tears spilling over. "I'm so, so sorry, Toby."
They can't go to him. They can't risk it.
"Come on." Spencer whispers hoarsely, forcing herself to turn away from the fire, from the silhouette of the man she loves standing so close, yet so impossibly far. "We have to go."
And as the flames roar higher, casting long, flickering shadows across the woods, the Liars slip away into the darkness.
Leaving Toby behind.
Leaving him to think the worst.
Leaving him alone.
Secret Circle
Cassie felt powerful after using her dark magic and wondered if she could teleport, so she thought of where she wanted to go. Closing her eyes, she thought of the abandoned house where she first met the circle. In an instant, she was there. She teleported back to her house and in her room, looking through her book of shadows for anything that could help her. After she didn't find anything, Cassie smirked as she used magic to change her clothes. Now wearing a black low cut shirt, black mini skirt and high heeled boots, Cassie felt better and even dyed her hair.
The circle leader went downstairs and smirked before she teleported a notebook to her and a pen. Sitting down at the kitchen table, she opened it up to the first blank page. "Find a 6th circle member, figure out everything regarding the Balcoins-who they are, if they are like Diana or Blackwell, etc-and try keeping the circle together." She said to herself as she wrote it down before she erased the last part. Instead, she wrote over it. "Have FUN this summer."
Smirking, she put the pen down and the notebook up before going to the abandoned house and practicing magic for hours before she decided to study since she and the others had exams the week after prom. The blond tried to learn as much as she could, looking through her books, class notebooks filled with notes and reviews packets for each subject she had to do. It was so boring, but a smirk appeared on her face as she got an idea.
Lost for now, soon to be found, review answers come unbound, she thought. The answers appeared instantly and she copied the answers exactly the same way as she moved her hand to make it look legitimate as possible. Smirking to herself, she finished quickly and decided to used magic on herself to remember everything on the exams so she'd definitely pass without trouble.
She also decided to keep the test answers hidden underneath her exam when it was time to take it. She put everything back into her bag and felt extremely confident, so she practiced her magic some more.
She went downstairs and looked for a snack when she noticed the fire that still crackled softly, casting an eerie, flickering glow that stretched shadows across the walls of the dimly lit room. The scent of burnt wood and old memories hung in the air as Cassie Blake stood before the roaring flames, her silhouette framed by the dancing light. She held her hand out just like before, eyes narrowed as she stared into the heart of the fire. Its warmth doing nothing to thaw the coldness spreading through her chest.
Her mother's smile—a faded, distant memory—floated in the depths of her mind, the image unraveling like smoke. Cassie's jaw tightened. Amelia Blake, her strong, vibrant mother, reduced to a haunting absence, stolen away before Cassie could ever understand who she truly was. Her grandmother, Jane, now dead, leaving the house emptier than ever. Nick… his name alone sent a twist of pain through her gut.
"Gone," she whispered bitterly. "All of them—just gone."
The fire seemed to respond, its flames surging higher, licking at the edges of the hearth as if feeding off her fury. Cassie's gaze remained locked on it, unblinking, a dark determination hardening her features. Something twisted and powerful coiled inside her, a sensation she was only beginning to recognize—the pull of darkness. It whispered in the back of her mind, promising answers, power, and retribution. She hadn't wanted to listen before, but now… now she had nothing to lose.
Taking a step back, Cassie turned away from the fireplace, her dark eyes reflecting the storm brewing inside her. Her fingers twitched at her sides as if aching to grab hold of something—anything—that could help her unravel the tangled web of secrets and pain that had become her life. She moved deliberately across the room, her heels tapping against the wooden floorboards, each sound echoing hollowly in the empty space.
Cassie paused in front of the old bookshelf, tracing the spine of a dusty, leather-bound journal with her fingertip. She pulled it down sharply and flipped it open, eyes skimming over the yellowed pages filled with her mother's handwriting. Spells, incantations, notes on protection and binding. Useless. All of it was useless to her now.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered to the empty room, her voice low and tight. "Why didn't you warn me?"
She slammed the book shut, the sound reverberating like a shot in the stillness. Amelia's secrets. Jane's warnings. The Circle's lies. And Nick… he had been taken too soon, his life ripped away before she could even grasp what he meant to her. Before she could save him. They were all gone, leaving her adrift in the wreckage of a life built on deception, but not anymore.
Cassie's eyes darkened further as she turned, her expression set with grim resolve. If no one was going to give her the truth, she would tear it out of the shadows herself. She would find out what had happened—what really happened—to her family and to Nick. And if the answers lay buried in dark magic, if it meant crossing a line, then so be it.
"Mom, I'm going to find out what happened to you." she whispered fiercely, her voice trembling with the force of her conviction. "Once I do, I'm going to make them pay for what they did to us."
A shiver ran through her, and for a brief moment, Cassie swore the flames behind her dimmed, as if the fire itself was afraid of what she had just unleashed within herself.
She would find the truth. No matter the cost.
With that, she strode purposefully out of the room, the shadows swallowing her whole as she stepped into the hallway. The darkness was familiar now—a comforting ally, full of the secrets she intended to uncover. Cassie's eyes burned with a hunger that wasn't there before, a craving for knowledge and vengeance. She would turn this obsession into a weapon, and she would use it to tear down the ones who had stolen her world.
Her mother, her grandmother, and Nick—every trail, every lead would be hers to follow. Nothing was off-limits now.
As Cassie walked deeper into the house, she didn't look back. The fire behind her flickered weakly, its glow fading against the intensity of the shadows gathering in her wake.
There was no more fear. Only a single, unrelenting purpose: to find the truth.
No matter what it cost her soul.
Pretty Little Liars
The wind howled through the dense forest, whipping through the trees and tearing at the edges of their gowns. It was eerie, the way the branches bent and cracked overhead, the air thick with the threat of another storm. The Liars huddled together in a small clearing, faces pale and eyes wide as they watched the glow of the distant flames licking the sky behind them—the remains of their carefully constructed cover story.
Hanna's fox-red dress was ripped along the hem, exposing her mud-streaked legs, but she didn't seem to notice. "Do you think they bought it?" she asked, voice strained. Her gaze darted back toward the wall of rock and fire they had left behind, her fingers still tingling with the heat she had unleashed. "Do you think they really believe we're dead?"
"They have to." Aria murmured, her dark hair clinging to her face in wet strands. She hugged herself tightly, staring out into the darkness. Her soft pink gown shimmered faintly in the moonlight, but the delicate fabric was stained and torn, like some twisted parody of the prom night it was meant for. "There's no way they can see through that mess. I mean, it looked like we were vaporized."
Spencer glanced at the other girls, the fear in their eyes mirrored in her own. "We need to keep moving." she said, her voice low but firm. "They'll start searching the woods once the fire dies down. If we don't put enough distance between us and the Dollhouse—"
"—they'll find us." Emily finished grimly, running a shaky hand through her matted hair. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. Her green dress clung to her like a second skin, mud and blood staining the fabric, but she didn't care. Right now, survival was all that mattered.
Mona, standing a few paces away, watched them with narrowed eyes. Her own dress, once a pristine white gown, was now shredded and dirt-covered, hanging limply around her. She folded her arms, a scowl etched across her face as she glared at the group. "You're really going to pretend like everything's fine?" she spat, voice laced with bitterness. "Like you didn't just pull off some supernatural Cirque du Soleil act back there?" She questioned while pointing sharply toward the distant flames.
"Now's not the time, Mona," Spencer snapped, her patience worn thin. The wind whipped at her dark hair, but her gaze stayed fixed on the horizon, calculating their next move. "We don't even know what's happening to us. But if we don't keep moving, we're dead. For real."
"You don't know?" Mona scoffed, a cruel smile twisting her lips. "Oh, please. You're all just special, aren't you? The Liars—always at the center of everything. Now you have powers? What am I, just here to watch?"
Emily stepped forward, her eyes softening. "Mona, please. We didn't ask for this. We're just trying to survive, same as you."
"Don't pretend we're the same!" Mona's voice cracked as something raw and vulnerable briefly flashed in her eyes before she shoved it down. "You've always had each other and now you have this. What do I have?"
"Us." Aria whispered, taking a hesitant step toward her. "You have us."
Mona's expression twisted, but the fire in her gaze dimmed slightly. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" she demanded, her voice thick. "You can call the wind, crack the earth, set trees on fire—what can I do?"
"You don't need powers to be strong, Mona," Spencer said quietly. "You're the only reason we're not still trapped in that hellhole. You're the one who saw through A's games first. If anyone can find a way out of this, it's you."
Mona looked away, jaw clenched tight. "Flattery isn't going to save us, Hastings," she muttered, but the tension in her shoulders seemed to ease, just a little.
"Then what will?" Hanna asked, stepping closer. "What's your plan, Mona? Because right now, we need you more than ever."
The words hung in the air, charged and weighty. The Liars watched her, their desperation clear. They were powerful, yes—but they were also lost, adrift in the chaos of newfound abilities they didn't understand. Mona was the one who had always known how to turn chaos to her advantage. She was the strategist, the one who could twist the game to her will.
Mona looked at each of them in turn, searching their faces. Slowly, her expression hardened with resolve. "Fine." she said at last, lifting her chin. "We keep moving. There's a road about two miles east of here. We follow it until we hit the highway, then we split up and find a way out of town."
"Split up?" Emily repeated, frowning. "We're stronger together."
"Exactly," Mona said sharply. "Which means we're more vulnerable if they catch us together. If we split up, they can't track us all. We'll regroup in three days at the motel outside of Brookhaven."
"And if one of us doesn't show up?" Aria asked, her voice small.
Mona's gaze softened—just a fraction. "Then we find whoever's missing and make them wish they hadn't crossed us," she said darkly.
There was a beat of silence as the others absorbed her words. Then Spencer nodded, stepping closer. "Okay. We'll do it your way."
Mona smirked, but there was no malice in it. "You're damn right we will."
With that, she turned on her heel and started walking, her movements quick and sure. One by one, the others fell into step behind her, dresses trailing like ghostly apparitions through the trees. They moved silently, slipping through the forest like shadows, hearts hammering, breaths shallow. The adrenaline still buzzed beneath their skin, the remnants of power that had surged so suddenly and violently when they'd needed it most.
But now that power was dormant again, a sleeping giant waiting to be awakened.
And when it did, they would be ready.
Because they weren't just running anymore.
They were hunting.
Lying Game
Emma Becker stood frozen in the hallway, just outside Thayer's room. She knew she should leave, but she couldn't bring herself to move. The sound of something crashing against the walls inside made her heart pound, but her love for him anchored her in place.
"Thayer?" she whispered, her voice breaking.
She reached for the doorknob but hesitated. A deep breath. Another crash. She winced, torn between fear and love, between leaving and staying.
Then, suddenly, a blood-curdling scream erupted from somewhere downstairs, shattering the tension in the room like glass.
Emma's hand dropped from the doorknob, and her pulse quickened. Whatever was happening inside Thayer's room would have to wait.
"Thayer, we need to go," she whispered urgently. The scream echoed again, chilling her to the bone.
Whatever waited for them outside was worse than anything behind that door. Neither of them would leave without facing it together.
Emma and Thayer bolted down the stairwell, the distant screams growing louder with every step. The narrow staircase seemed endless, their shoes pounding against the cold concrete. When they finally burst through the door into the main floor, the chaos hit them like a wall.
In the center of the room, a table lay in ruins, splintered wood and broken glass scattered everywhere. And there, unconscious amid the wreckage, was Alec. His body looked twisted and battered, as if he had fallen from an impossible height. Emma's breath caught in her throat as she stared up at the shattered skyline above, realizing how far he had plummeted.
A crowd had already gathered, murmuring in shock and horror. Someone was on the phone, calling the police.
"Is he… alive?" Emma whispered, gripping Thayer's arm.
Thayer knelt beside Alec, pressing two fingers to his neck. "He's breathing," he confirmed, though his voice was heavy with worry.
Emma's eyes darted around as panic started to set in. It was only a matter of time before the police arrived, and she knew from experience that being questioned meant trouble.
When the officers arrived, they immediately pushed the crowd back, securing the scene. Questions came at Emma and Thayer from every direction.
"Did you know the victim?"
"Did anyone push him?"
"Were you in the building when it happened?"
Emma kept her answers short, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. She could feel Thayer's tension beside her, his hand brushing hers every so often—just enough to remind her that they were in this together.
Alec was taken away in an ambulance, his fate unknown. Emma and Thayer were only allowed to leave after what felt like hours of questions. They walked out into the night, exhausted and weighed down by the uncertainty of what lay ahead.
The drive to the house where Rebecca was staying was heavy with silence. Thayer gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white. Emma kept glancing at him, wanting to say something comforting but knowing that words would only fall flat. Alec was his father, and no matter what their relationship had been, the weight of it all was pressing down on Thayer.
When they arrived at Rebecca's house, the air felt charged, as if the universe had shifted in some small but crucial way.
"I need to check on something." Emma said softly. "You go ahead and rest. I'll meet you inside."
Thayer hesitated but gave her a small, weary nod. "I'll be in the living room."
Emma waited until he was out of sight before slipping into one of the back rooms. She felt a pull, something drawing her deeper into the house, until she found herself standing before a wooden chest tucked into a dark corner.
Her heart raced as she opened it, revealing an old, weathered Book of Shadows. The cover was cool under her fingertips, the pages yellowed with age. Beside it lay a medallion—small and intricately designed, its metal surface gleaming in the dim light.
Emma's breath caught in her throat. The medallion felt familiar in a way she couldn't explain, as if it belonged to her. The book and the medallion hummed with a strange energy, vibrating beneath her fingers.
She knew she should tell Thayer, but something held her back. He already had enough to deal with—Alec's fall, the police investigation, the mess their lives had become. This was hers, something personal, something she needed to understand on her own.
Emma slipped the medallion into her pocket and carefully closed the chest, her mind swirling with questions. Whatever the connection was between the book, the medallion, and herself, she would find out. For now, she would carry the secret alone.
Back in the living room, Emma found Thayer sitting on the couch, his head in his hands. The weight of everything was pressing down on him, and Emma's heart ached for him.
Without saying a word, she sat beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. He let out a shaky breath, leaning into her, as if her presence was the only thing keeping him grounded.
"Thank you." he whispered, his voice barely audible.
"For what?"
"For staying."
Emma closed her eyes, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her. They sat there in the quiet, tangled together in the kind of moment that didn't need words. Whatever storm was coming, they would face it—together.
What did all of you think?