Raising Beast Cubs to Find a Husband-Chapter 159: The Ghost in the Mirror

The Nursery was peaceful, which made Caspian extremely suspicious.

The Sea King sat in the oversized armchair, watching the Council of Cubs.

Vali was currently asleep, sprawled halfway off the top bunk, drooling onto Jasper’s pillow. Jasper, who was awake and reading a book on the bottom bunk, occasionally poked the wolf’s dangling arm with a ruler to keep the drool radius contained.

Clover was napping in a pile of stuffed animals in the corner, her long ears twitching as she dreamed of giant carrots.

Orion had claimed the ensuite bathroom. He was currently sleeping in the bathtub, which he had filled to the brim. A small, magical raincloud hovered over his head, keeping his gills moist while he snored bubbles.

Arjun was doing sit-ups by the window. "Ninety-nine... one hundred," the tiger cub whispered, sweat dripping down his tiny forehead. He wiped his face and looked at Caspian. "Secure perimeter established, Sir?"

Caspian sighed, turning a page of his book. "For the fifth time, yes, Arjun. The door is locked. The window is warded. And if a monster comes in, I will poke it with a stick. Go to sleep."

"Soldiers sleep with one eye open," Arjun muttered, but he climbed into his bed anyway, curling up like a kitten.

That left Silas.

The Panther Cub wasn’t sleeping. He wasn’t exercising.

He was standing in front of the large, ornate mirror on the far wall.

The mirror was old. Its frame was carved from black bone, twisting into shapes of screaming faces. It was exactly the kind of decor Rurik would have smashed immediately, but it was bolted to the wall.

Silas stared at his reflection.

He touched the glass with his small hand.

"Mama?" Silas whispered.

From his chair, Caspian frowned. He closed his book.

"Silas," Caspian said gently. "Step away from the glass. It is old magic. It plays tricks on the mind."

Silas didn’t move. He didn’t hear him.

In the reflection, the room was different. It wasn’t the warm, fire-lit nursery. It was cold. Dark. And behind Silas’s reflection... someone was standing.

A woman.

She was tall and elegant, with long black hair that floated as if she were underwater. She wore a dress of dark purple silk. Her eyes were the same violet shade as Lucien’s, but softer. Sadder.

Silas pressed his face against the cold glass.

"Mama," he whimpered. "You came back."

The woman in the mirror smiled. It was a beautiful, heartbreaking smile. She reached out her hand. It pressed against the glass from the inside, matching Silas’s palm perfectly.

My baby, a voice echoed, not in the room, but in Silas’s head. My poor, lonely kitten. Come to me.

"Silas!" Caspian barked, standing up. The water in the pitcher on the table began to vibrate. "Get back!"

Silas shook his head. "No! She’s here! Uncle Lucien said she was gone, but she’s here!"

The woman in the mirror beckoned.

Come inside, Silas. It’s safe here. No noise. No pain. Just us. Forever.

The glass surface rippled like water.

Silas leaned forward. His hand sank into the mirror. The glass turned liquid, cold and sticky like oil. It grabbed his wrist.

"Silas!"

Caspian moved faster than a human could track. He crossed the room in a blur of blue velvet.

He grabbed Silas by the waist and yanked him backward.

"Let go!" Silas screamed, kicking and thrashing. "Let me go! Mama!"

The mirror fought back.

The woman’s smile vanished. Her face twisted, elongating into something monstrous. Her jaw unhinged. The beautiful violet eyes turned into hollow black pits.

GIVE HIM TO ME! the reflection screeched.

Black tendrils shot out of the mirror, wrapping around Silas’s arm and Caspian’s shoulder. They burned like dry ice.

"Wake up!" Caspian roared.

The noise woke the room.

Vali fell off the top bunk with a loud thud. "Ambush!" the wolf yelled, scrambling to his feet, eyes wild.

Jasper snapped his book shut. He saw the black tentacles. He saw the monster in the mirror.

"Vali! Shield formation!" Jasper ordered.

Vali didn’t ask questions. He didn’t need to know what was happening, only that his pack was under attack. He charged.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Vali barked his eyes turned red.

He leaped onto Caspian’s back and bit the black tentacle wrapping around the Sea King’s neck.

CRUNCH.

The shadow-monster shrieked. Vali’s teeth, reinforced with young alpha magic, tore through the smoky limb.

Arjun jumped off his bed. He grabbed the heavy iron poker from the fireplace. It was red-hot at the tip.

"Fire support! Since I can’t scream here" Arjun yelled.

He ran forward and jammed the hot poker into the mirror frame. The heat sizzled against the cold glass. The monster recoiled, its grip on Silas loosening slightly.

"Jasper!" Caspian grunted, struggling to hold Silas while fighting off three shadow-limbs. "The water pitcher! Now!"

Jasper grabbed the ceramic pitcher from the table. He didn’t throw it. He tossed the water into the air.

Caspian’s eyes glowed blue.

Hydro-Kinetic Art: Frost Spikes.

The water in the air froze instantly into sharp, deadly icicles. With a flick of Caspian’s head, the icicles shot forward, slamming into the mirror face.

SHATTER.

The glass exploded.

The screaming stopped. The black tentacles dissolved into smoke. Silas fell back into Caspian’s arms, sobbing.

For a moment, there was only the sound of heavy breathing and Silas’s cries.

Caspian sat on the floor, holding the shaking panther cub tight against his chest. Vali was spitting out black shadow-goop. Arjun was holding the poker like a baseball bat, ready for round two.

Primrose burst through the door a second later, followed by Lucien.

"What happened?" Primrose gasped, seeing the shattered glass and the crying child. "I heard screaming."

Lucien saw the broken mirror. His face went pale—a rare sight for the Lord of Shadows.

He walked over to the shards. He knelt down and picked up a piece of the black bone frame.

"A Void Lure," Lucien whispered, his voice trembling with rage. "It wasn’t a ghost. It was a trap."

He looked at Silas, who was burying his face in Caspian’s coat.

"Someone placed a mimic spell on this mirror," Lucien explained, crushing the bone in his hand. "It read his memories. It wore his mother’s face to drag him into the Void."

Primrose felt sick. She looked at the jagged hole in the wall where the mirror had been.

It wasn’t an accident. It was an assassination attempt. Inside the nursery.

"Move aside," a cool voice ordered.

Cassian walked into the room. He was carrying a stack of books and looking very annoyed at the noise, until he saw the scene.

The Snake Archduke adjusted his glasses. He walked over to the shattered mirror. He didn’t touch it with his hands. He used a pair of silver tweezers to pick up a shard of glass covered in black slime.

"Interesting," Cassian murmured. "This ectoplasm... it has a synthetic mana signature."

"English, snake," Rurik growled from the doorway, cracking his knuckles.

"It means," Cassian turned to face the group, "that this wasn’t wild magic. Someone programmed this trap. And based on the decay rate of the spell..."

He sniffed the shard.

"...It was activated ten minutes ago."

"Ten minutes ago?" Leonora asked, stepping into the room. "But we’ve been here for an hour."

"Exactly," Cassian said, his golden eyes narrowing behind his lenses. "The trap was dormant. It was waiting for a trigger."

He looked at Silas.

"It was waiting for the Heir to look into it."

Lucien stood up. The shadows in the room darkened until the firelight was almost choked out.

"Malachi," Lucien said. The name wasn’t spoken; it was spat. "He controls the internal wards of the East Wing."

"He tried to eat my nephew," Primrose said. Her voice was terrifyingly calm. Her Four Tails flickered into existence behind her.

"Not eat," Cassian corrected. "Abduct. If Silas had been pulled into that mirror, he would have been transported to the Void. Or... to wherever the Boss is hiding."

Rajah stepped forward. He put a hand on Lucien’s shoulder.

"You have a pest problem, Brother," Rajah rumbled. "Do you want us to help you fumigate?"

Lucien looked at his terrified nephew. He looked at the shattered mirror. He looked at the family of Warlords standing around him, ready to burn his entire castle down to protect one child.

"Yes," Lucien said. "I believe it is time for a change in management."

Later that night, the nursery was finally quiet again.

The mirror was gone, replaced by a heavy iron plate that Rurik had welded over the wall (Try coming through that, ghost-face, he had muttered).

The kids were huddled together in the center of the room. A massive blanket fort had been constructed.

Inside the fort, Silas was sitting with a mug of hot cocoa. Primrose had made it herself in the kitchen, threatening the Head Chef with a wooden spoon until he produced the marshmallows.

"It wasn’t her," Silas whispered, staring into his mug. "My mama."

"No, baby," Primrose said softly, stroking his hair. "It was a trick. A bad trick."

"Mama wouldn’t hurt me," Silas said firmly. "She put me in the box to save me. She wouldn’t pull me into the dark."

"Exactly," Primrose kissed his forehead. "She loved you. And we love you."

Vali crawled over. He had a bandage on his nose where a piece of glass had scratched him.

"You were brave, Si," Vali said, munching on a marshmallow. "You didn’t go with the monster."

"Caspian grabbed me," Silas muttered.

"Yeah, but you kicked it," Vali insisted. "I saw. You kicked the ghost right in the shins."

Silas managed a tiny, weak smile. "I did?"

"Totally," Arjun added from his sleeping bag. "Tactical retreat with defensive kicking. Textbook maneuver."

Jasper sighed, adjusting his silk sleeping mask. "Can we please cease the hero worship? I require eight hours of sleep to maintain my complexion. And someone needs to clean up the ectoplasm on the rug. It smells like ozone."

Silas took a sip of his cocoa. He looked around the fort.

It was cramped. It smelled like wolf and burnt wood. Jasper was complaining. Vali was eating all the marshmallows.

But it was warm. And for the first time since he arrived in the Obsidian Jungle... Silas didn’t feel cold.

He leaned his head on Primrose’s shoulder and closed his eyes. The ghosts could wait. The pack was sleeping.

Meanwhile, in the Shadows...

Deep in the cellars of the estate, Lord Malachi paced back and forth.

He held a small, cracked crystal in his hand.

"The mirror failed," Malachi hissed into the crystal. "The Sea King interfered. And the Fox... she is dangerous. She has influence over the shadows."

A voice crackled from the crystal. It was distorted, static-filled, but unmistakably the Boss.

Disappointing, the Boss purred. But expected. Warlords are stubborn creatures.

"What do I do?" Malachi asked, looking over his shoulder. "Lucien suspects me. He has the other Warlords patrolling the halls. I cannot get to the boy."

Then stop trying to be subtle, Malachi, the Boss laughed softly. You have the keys to the Vault, don’t you? Why steal the Heir... when you can just let the darkness out?

Malachi stopped pacing. He looked at a heavy iron door at the end of the cellar hallway.

The Shadow Vault. The place where the ancient horrors of the Crepusci bloodline were locked away.

"Open it," the Boss commanded. "Let the Nightmares feed."

Malachi swallowed hard. His hand trembled. But his greed was stronger than his fear.

"As you wish," Malachi whispered.

He walked toward the Vault.