Chapter 373: The Spirit Of The Ancestor

In the quiet study, Gavriel held Aliana’s hand in his, his voice low as he warned her, "This will sting a little."

Aliana took a deep breath and nodded. "Alright. I am ready."

Right before her eyes, Gavriel’s fingernail elongated into a razor-sharp point.

Aliana squeezed her eyes shut the moment he brought it against her palm.

She flinched as a quick prick pierced her skin. A few drops of warm blood pooled from the shallow cut, dripping down onto the surface of the coffee table.

Before she could pull her hand back, her eyes flew open as a sudden, intense heat covered her palm.

Her heart skipped a beat as she watched Gavriel lick the blood from her skin. The moment his tongue swept over the cut, the wound closed, leaving her palm smooth and unblemished once more.

He lifted his gaze to meet hers, and Aliana felt her cheeks grow warm at the intimate gesture.

As the air between them grew heavy with unspoken feelings, Cillian, who had been watching the pair with quiet amusement, cleared his throat loudly. "Sorry to interrupt you two, but as the responsible adult in the room, I feel obligated to remind you that we are a little tight on time."

Aliana immediately snapped out of her trance and threw Cillian a pointed look. "I am well aware."

She turned her gaze back to the table, where her blood glistened against the polished surface. "So now that you have what you need... what comes next?"

She lifted her eyes to Gavriel, who leaned back against his armchair. His icy blue gaze finally shifted from his wife to the blood on the table.

Lifting his hand with his palm facing upward, his irises turned red, and he commanded in a low, resonant voice, "Come."

The moment that single word left his lips, the droplets of her blood lifted clean off the wooden surface, leaving no trace behind as they floated smoothly above Gavriel’s open palm.

Despite the fire crackling in the hearth, the temperature inside the dimly lit study began to plummet rapidly.

Gavriel raised his index and middle fingers, above which the scattered drops merged into a single crimson orb. Hovering right at the tip of his fingers, the sphere began to glow before unravelling into delicate wisps of red light.

The fire in the hearth dimmed low as those glowing red wisps drifted down onto the floor before the mantle. And right before their eyes, a translucent figure materialised out of thin air... a woman with long, dark brown hair, dressed in an elegant historical gown.

Aliana stared in utter awe at the spirit, who emitted a faint crimson aura while her eyes remained shut.

The woman was beautiful, with delicate features, but she didn’t come close to matching Aliana’s ethereal beauty.

Coming from an old-money aristocratic family, Aliana had seen countless portraits of her ancestors at the Vanderbilt estate. She vaguely recalled seeing this very woman’s portrait and recognised the subtle familial resemblance she shared with several of her other ancestors.

Yet seeing her spirit materialise before her eyes was an entirely different experience.

It was difficult to believe that Gavriel had summoned the ghost of one of her ancestors with nothing more than a few drops of her blood.

Swallowing hard, Aliana tore her gaze away from the woman and looked towards her husband, whose eyes still glowed crimson.

"Is this... her?" she asked softly.

Gavriel met her gaze and gave her a slow nod.

Aliana drew in a quiet breath, turning her attention back to the floating spirit. "Why are her eyes closed?"

"Her spirit has been dormant for far too long," Gavriel explained gently. "Call out her name, Ana."

Before beginning the ceremony, Gavriel had told Aliana the name of the woman who had once made a deal with him and bound her bloodline to him. He had told her that she needed to know the name when interacting with her.

"Edith Vanderbilt?"

The moment the name left Aliana’s lips, the woman’s eyes snapped open.

A harsh gasp escaped her, as though she had just been dragged up from the depths of deep water. The sudden movement startled Aliana enough to instinctively scoot closer to Gavriel and clasp his hand.

Seeing her reaction, Gavriel gently squeezed her hand. "She cannot harm you, Ana."

Aliana nervously met his reassuring gaze before turning back towards the woman who had milky-white eyes and was frantically inspecting her unfamiliar surroundings.

"Where am I?" Edith’s voice echoed softly. She looked down at herself, raising her hands to stare at her own translucent palms in confusion and slight panic. "Who... who woke me?"

"It seems like your ancestor is just as panicked as you, Aliana," Cillian commented.

The spirit’s eyes immediately snapped towards him before widening in alarm.

"You..." She took a frightened step backwards. "You are a demon!"

"Congratulations. You have just passed one of the many tests held in Hell," Cillian replied cheerfully, only for Edith’s white eyes to widen even further. "H-Hell?"

"Well, of course you spotted a demon, didn’t you?" Cillian continued with a charming smile. "That determines which special place you will be given in Hell."

Aliana’s brows furrowed as she looked back and forth between Cillian and Edith, trying to make sense of their very strange exchange.

For a fleeting moment, she genuinely wondered whether a spirit could suffer a heart attack. But judging by the sheer horror on Edith’s face, it seemed entirely possible that she was on the fast track to her second death.

Soon, Edith’s translucent form began to flicker and fluctuate as panic took hold of her.

"Hell... oh no!" she cried. "Maybe this is happening to me because of the choices I made back then! What have I done? Will I be burned in a boiling cauldron or thrown into the mouth of some monstrous beast?"

"Hmm... that depends on your answers, Edith," Cillian replied, happily playing the role of Hell’s judge and gleefully driving the poor woman off an emotional cliff.

"Answers?" Edith squeaked. "Is this about the deal I made with the Devil? I-I’ll tell you everything, but please don’t send me to Hell! I have a very low threshold for pain!"

Her form fluctuated even more violently. ℴ

Cillian’s lips curled into a wicked grin as he thoroughly enjoyed tormenting the terrified soul. "Well... rule number one of the Underworld, Edith... never tell a demon your weaknesses. I’m afraid that means-"

"Cillian."

A deep, commanding voice cut him off mid-sentence.

"That is enough. You are making her spirit unstable," Gavriel warned.

Cillian let out a soft chuckle. "My apologies. It seems I got a bit carried away. But can you blame me? It isn’t every day a soul materialises right in front of us."

Aliana’s frown deepened at his remark, curious about what he meant.

But before she could ask, Edith found her next reason to fall into absolute despair.

"No... no, no..." Edith whimpered, her gaze shifting slowly toward the man sitting in the armchair. "It is true... I stand in the presence of... the Devil..."

With a dramatic shudder, Edith collapsed to her knees, bowing her head before Gavriel in absolute terror.

Aliana pinched the bridge of her nose, letting out an exhausted sigh. "I cannot believe this woman is where I get half my genetics from."

​Meanwhile, Gavriel looked mildly irritated.

He hadn’t expected the spirit to be this hysterical, but he knew he needed to remain calm if he wanted her to talk.

Without wasting another second, he spoke, "You are not in Hell, Edith. But your spirit and your bloodline belong to me."