"Do you want to die?"
Victor appeared—again—right beside Jemi, wearing that same cold expression. Honestly, if Jemi could turn him into a frog, she would have done it a long time ago—ever since Victor had made a habit of sabotaging her every attempt to get close to Oliver.
"Do you want to announce to the whole world that you're a witch?? Do you want to be burned alive or hanged to death like our ancestors?!"
Tsk!
Jemi hated Victor's lectures more than anything—especially the way he always linked her efforts to approach Oliver with grim tales about the witches of this city—Sylvarin—who had been slaughtered by human witch hunters.
Oh, gosh! Come on… This was the modern era. Things like that didn't happen anymore.
"The world won't know that I'm stopping time for a moment just to look at Oliver up close like this, Vic!" Jemi's eyes widened, her cheeks flushing. "Unless you're the one who spills it, you damn wizard!"
"Stop freezing time, Jemi. Or I'll tell everything to this weak human," Victor said.
His gaze was too sharp—too cruel—as it landed on Oliver, who remained frozen in the suspended flow of time.
"You—"
"I really will do it!"
Jemi let out a harsh snort. "Fine!"
Her arm swung sharply, her foot stomping hard against the ground. She made her movements deliberately exaggerated, just so Victor would know how much she despised his attitude. The vortex of cosmic energy she had been gripping tightly slowly loosened as she released a long breath. Within seconds, time resumed its normal course.
From where she stood, Jemi watched Oliver walk away, his basketball captain's uniform clinging to his body, brown hair damp with sweat after practice.
"You need to be more careful when using your powers, Miss. We could get into serious trouble because of that."
Victor was, of course, a witch as well. They had grown up together—more accurately, Victor had followed Jemi everywhere like a puppy that refused to leave its owner's side.
Well, technically, Victor had been raised by a family of wolves. He had even chosen a wolf form when he finally mastered the transformation spell. He said it was a way to honor his werewolf foster parents.
Though, in Jemi's opinion, Victor's transformed shape looked far more like a Siberian husky than a wolf.
Since then, she had taken to calling him husky.
"And you—please stop ruining every single one of my plans to get close to Oliver. What's wrong with you?"
Jemi's emotions were boiling over. Even so, fully aware of what she was doing, she climbed into Victor's car—catching a ride home.
"I just… have a duty to protect you, Jemi. And you—" Victor growled after starting the engine and slamming down on the gas pedal, "—by everything in this world, you are unbelievably stubborn and impossible to guard!"
Tsk!
Jemi shot him an amused glance. "No one asked you to be responsible for my life, Vic!"
It was true. No one had—and Victor let out a long sigh.
Jemi stared out at the empty road leading them toward a residential area on the outskirts of the city. She had no interest in looking at Victor anymore.
"No one asked me. You're right," Victor said again. "But I chose to take responsibility for your safety…"
Jemi frowned. What was that supposed to mean?
"…because you're my friend, and we're both witches," he added quickly. "That's all."
Jemi listened, but she didn't reply. Thinking about it, Victor really had always protected her—no matter what. Once, in the middle of the night, he had suddenly appeared in her bedroom just to make sure she was okay after a nightmare.
He had been breathing hard then. Jemi was certain he had run all the way there in his husky form, sneaking in through her open window.
She had no idea how Victor knew she was having a nightmare—as if they shared some kind of invisible bond.
Still, in other ways, Victor had managed to become the person Jemi disliked the most. Especially because he always ruined her moments—those stolen seconds when she secretly froze time just to look at Oliver, the human she had liked for the past two years.
"If you're really my friend, you should help me with my plan to get closer to Oliver," Jemi said softly, deliberately adding a dramatic edge to make Victor feel sorry for her.
And, of course, that cheap trick never worked. Victor was never that easy to fool.
"Don't ever expect that. I will never help you with that human," Victor said coldly. "Besides, my instincts tell me something's wrong about him."
Jemi turned her head sharply. She was always intrigued whenever Victor mentioned his instincts. "Your instincts?"
Victor nodded. "You know… my instincts are strong, being a witch raised by werewolves." He paused. "And I think Oliver isn't good for you."
Seriously? That was it?
Jemi rolled her eyes, struggling to keep herself from snapping. "Then who is good for me? You?"
Victor burst out laughing at her question, as if openly mocking her. For the umpteenth time, Jemi cursed herself—why did her magic only allow her to stop time? If she could do more than that, Victor would have been a tiny tadpole swimming around in her aquarium by now.
"Even if you were the last woman on Earth, I would never want to be your lover, Jemimah Brown!"
"Hey!" Jemi was clearly offended. "You say that like I'm unlovable!"
Her pride took a hit.
Victor glanced at her. Jemi deliberately scrunched up her face. A faint smirk curved one corner of his lips. "Would you even want it if I loved you?"
"Don't!" Jemi's voice shot up an octave. "DON'T DARE! I don't want it!"
Instead of being affected by her reaction, Victor laughed—nearly bursting out loud. "Too late, Miss. I've loved you for a long time," he said lightly.
Jemi's hand flew out, slamming hard against Victor's arm. She didn't care whether he was driving or not—an accident wouldn't kill either of them.
"Why do you always say useless things like that, huh?"
Victor's lips twitched briefly. That infuriating grin returned. "It's just… fun to make you angry."
***
Every morning, Jemi always reminded herself of a few things in life.
First, she was descended from witches.
Second, she and her family had to keep their true identity hidden if they wanted to stay alive. According to her parents, witch hunters still roamed this city. As a good daughter, Jemi had to follow the basic rules of the Brown family.
Third, Jemi was always excited to go to the academy simply because Oliver Johnson was there—the basketball team captain who somehow drew everyone's attention to himself.
And lastly, Jemi had to accept the fact that Victor had become her parents' favorite child. Meanwhile, Jemi—their biological daughter—felt as if she had never even made the list. Victor wandered freely around her house, even into her room!
"Get up!" Victor shouted in his deep voice.
He knew Jemi had been awake for a while. He also knew she was just too lazy to get out of bed because it was Sunday.
"Wake up, Jemi!"
This time, Victor yanked off her blanket and tossed it into the corner of the room, ignoring her protests. "You look like a lion. Hurry up. Mom and Dad are waiting for breakfast."
So annoying!
Jemi glared at him. Victor acted as if he owned her house—and her parents. He even had the nerve to call them Mom and Dad too!
"Hurry. Everyone's already in the dining room. If you're not out in five minutes, I'll drag you down myself!"
Yeah… yeah… Victor wouldn't stop until she was fully awake. A brilliant idea suddenly popped into Jemi's head.
Hey, what if I stopped time and went back to sleep?
"Don't even think about stopping time! You'll disrupt the natural order!" Victor yelled—from what sounded like the dining room.
Oh my God! How did he know? Was he some kind of clairvoyant now? Jemi shuddered, growled under her breath, and reluctantly got out of bed.
In the dining room connected to the kitchen, Victor was already sitting and chatting casually with Edd Brown—Jemi's father. They talked about everything happening in Sylvarin: the harbor that had been causing unrest lately, the traffic light at the intersection that hadn't worked for a month.
One more thing caught Jemi's attention as she entered the room—the werewolf packs that had begun guarding every corner of the city.
She frowned. Wait—why did they need to be on guard?
"Is something wrong?" Jemi asked as she sat down beside Victor.
Victor clicked his tongue. "Your mind is so obsessed with Oliver that you don't even keep up with what's happening in your own world."
"Who's Oliver?" Edd looked up, his round glasses nearly slipping off his nose.
"An unimportant human who's stolen Jemi's attention," Victor said casually before stuffing a forkful of omelet into his mouth.
Oh no. From Edd's expression, it was obvious he was about to dig deeper into this Oliver business—thanks to this stupid husky.
"Dad!" Jemi blurted out quickly. There was no way she was letting her father interrogate her about Oliver. "So, why are the werewolves on guard? Did something serious happen?"
Beside her, Victor couldn't hold back his laughter at Jemi's obvious panic. Jemi clenched her fists. That damn husky really needed a lesson.
"A few days ago, several cargo ships were found with their contents mysteriously missing," Edd explained. "Fortunately, Victor's parents have access to the port customs office. They investigated and found traces of magic all along the walls and floors of the containers."
"Traces of magic?" Jemi's brows knit together. "Aren't we the only witches left? Mom and Dad didn't do it, right?"
A wooden spoon cracked against Jemi's head, making Victor laugh even harder. Agatha Brown stood behind her. "Watch your mouth, young lady. How dare you accuse your own parents?"
"Mom!" Jemi groaned, rubbing her head. "That hurt!"
"Do you want me to turn you into a wristwatch? So you can't stop time whenever you feel like it?" Agatha narrowed her eyes at Jemi, while her daughter immediately shot a glare at Victor.
There was no doubt about it—the stupid husky had tattled on her.
"Don't blame Victor," Agatha said. "I can feel it every time you use your power, Jemi. You remember, don't you? Your magic doesn't work on fellow witches."
"But… Mom, you can't just accuse me like that. Victor could've done it!" Jemi protested.
Agatha turned to Victor, her gaze noticeably softer. "Oh, Victor would never do such a thing. He's a witch who would never use his powers recklessly. Besides, among the four of us, you're the only one who can stop time, Jemi."
This was so unfair!
BANG!
A loud crash from outside cut off Jemi's protests. They all jolted and rushed to see what was happening.
Across the street, at Mrs. Wassel's house, several people wearing black vests labeled Witch Hunter were violently breaking down the door until it shattered.
"What's going on?" Jemi whispered to Victor.
"I don't know—but it looks like something bad," Victor replied, his eyes fixed on Mrs. Wassel's house.
Jemi and her family hurried to the front gate. Moments later, two burly men in black vests dragged Mrs. Wassel outside and threw the elderly woman onto the roadside without mercy. Her shoulders trembled as she fell to her knees, begging for her life.
"Hey! What are you doing?!" Jemi shouted without thinking. Her body had already moved beyond the gate, her stance openly defiant.
"Stay out of it, Miss! Go back inside unless you want to be cursed by this old witch!"
An old witch? Mrs. Wassel? Jemi couldn't make sense of it. How was that possible? Mrs. Wassel wasn't a witch!
Before Jemi could protest again, flames were ignited, engulfing Mrs. Wassel. In an instant, the old woman writhed in fire. Some of the men laughed, while the rest watched with grim satisfaction.
Other neighbors slowly emerged from their homes, watching in terror as the flames consumed Mrs. Wassel. Edd and Agatha stood frozen; Jemi could see their bodies trembling.
"One witch has been captured! Report to us if you see any magical activity around you! We will not stand idle if there are still witches in Sylvarin!"
Insane. This was completely insane.
Jemi's blood boiled at the words. A low growl escaped her lips—and damn it, it caught the attention of one of the hunters.
"What is it, Miss?" he sneered. "Are you a witch too?"