Page 14 of Revenge is a Witch

I don’t even realize how flustered I look until Derek reaches out, grabbing my hand to steady me. “Hey, you okay?” His voice is softer than usual, a little concerned. I glance at his hand, the warmth of it grounding me just enough to snap out of my spiral.

I pull my hand away quickly, trying to gather myself. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I say, my voice tight. “But thanks for the unnecessary touch. Wasn’t sure if I needed a shower or not today, now I do.”

Derek smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Anytime, pampered princess.” I roll my eyes at him, but it’s half-hearted. The confusion and frustration are still churning in my mind, and I know I’m not going to get any answers here.

“I’ve got to go,” I say, standing up abruptly. “I’m heading back to my dorm for a bit.”

Sam looks up at me, frowning. “Do you want me to come with you? You don’t look great.”

I shake my head. “No, I’m fine. I just... I need to start working on my grimoire again.” The bitterness in my voice isn’t lost on either of them.My grimoire... for a second time.The thought stings, but I don’t have the luxury of wallowing in self-pity right now.

Sam nods, though she still looks worried. “Okay, but let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do,” I say quickly, already heading toward the exit.

I walk out of the cafeteria, my mind a tangled mess of questions and half-formed theories. Someone has my spells. Someone is using them. And if I don’t figure out who, everything I’ve worked for might be more than just erased. It might be gone for good.

As I make my way back to my dorm, all I can think about is getting to work, trying to rewrite my grimoire, and figuring out how deep this mess really goes.

As I approach my dorm room, I notice a figure leaning casually against the wall nearby. Even from a distance, I can tell it’s Sebastian. His dark hair is tousled, and he’s got that annoyingly smug expression on his face, like he knows something I don’t. I roll my eyes as I get closer, because obviously, whatever this is, it’s going to be a pain.

“Careful,” I say, deadpan, “your presence might make the wallpaper melt.”

Sebastian chuckles, his sharp, white teeth gleaming as he turns to face me. “And here I was, contemplating being nice to you, Zaria.”

I sigh dramatically. “Alright, fine. I’ll bite. What’s this about?”

His smirk deepens—because of course it does. “If you’re gonna bite, I think I should show you how it's done first.” He winks in that obnoxious, vampire way that makes me want to hex him on the spot. Maybe a wart on his perfect fucking nose.

“Ugh, fuck off, Sebastian,” I mutter, reaching for the handle of my door, eager to escape this nonsense.

Before I can open it, he holds out a folded piece of paper, his expression turning more serious. “I thought you might want to see this. It’s... making the rounds.” I narrow my eyes at him, more curious than I want to admit. After a second of hesitation, I take the paper from his hand, unfolding it slowly. He watches me with that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face.

“What’s this?” I ask. And in a blur, he’s gone, disappearing down the hallway before I can even think about responding.

“You’re not allowed to use your powers outside of class!” I call after him, though I know he’s long gone. “Asshole,” I mutter under my breath as I turn back to my door and shove it open.

Once inside, I toss my bag onto the bed and unfold the paper fully. My heart sinks as I read it. It’s a spell—myspell. Written out perfectly, every word, every symbol exactly as I’d written it in my grimoire. But at the bottom of the page, in small, neat handwriting, is a message that sends a chill down my spine:

“Don’t tell Zaria.”

My hands tremble as I stare at the words. Someone really did take my spells. They’ve been spreading them around the school like some kind of magical trading cards. It’s not just my grimoire that’s gone—it’s theworkinside it, the pieces of me I’ve crafted for years.

I throw the paper onto my desk, my chest tightening with anger and frustration. My eyes dart to my grimoire—or at least, the book I thought was my grimoire—sitting on the corner of my desk. I grab it, flipping it open, trying to call forth theenchantments I’d placed on it. But nothing happens. No familiar pulse of magic, no shimmer of spells waiting to be unlocked.

Just...nothing.

It hits me like a punch to the gut. This isn’t my grimoire at all. It’s just a blank book, enchanted tolooklike mine. Someone swapped it, took the real one, and left me with this worthless, hollow thing. Rage bubbles up inside me, and before I can stop myself, I hurl the fake grimoire across the room. It smashes into the wall with a dull thud, the pages crumpling as it falls to the floor.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside me. I don’t have time to fall apart now. I pick up the piece of paper again, the one with my spell on it, and flip it over.

On the back is a handwritten note. From Sebastian. With his phone number?

“In case you wonder what ‘several inches’ really means.”

I groan, feeling a mix of disgust and disbelief. “Disgusting jerk,” I mutter, crumpling the paper in my fist and chucking it into the bin. Because of course, he had to throw in some sleazy comment along with this entire mess.

I stand there, gripping the edge of my desk, staring at the crumpled paper in the bin. My heart pounds in my chest, a slow, rhythmic beat that’s almost mocking me. It’s bad enough that my work could’ve just vanished into thin air. But this—this is so much worse. Someone stole it. They didn’t just erase my spells; they took them. And now they’re being passed around, handed out like some cheap flyer at a school event.

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