Teeth | Agatha All Along

08

The air around the campfire grew heavier, thick with tension and magic. Dahlia stood at the edge of the gathering, her arms crossed loosely over her chest, her stance relaxed but her mind sharp. She felt their eyes on her—watching, assessing, mistrusting. It was understandable. She wasn't one of them, not really. The coven didn't know her, didn't know her history, didn't know how she fit into the tangled web of Agatha and Rio's lives. But Dahlia wasn't here to fit in. She had always been the outsider, lingering at the edges, comfortable in her solitude.

She glanced at Agatha, who sat close to the fire, her profile illuminated by the flickering flames. Agatha's face was unreadable, but there was a tension in her shoulders, a tightness around her eyes that spoke of her unease. Rio, sitting opposite Agatha, watched the flames with a faint smirk, her posture deceptively casual. But Dahlia knew better. Rio was always alert, always calculating, always ready to strike—whether with words or magic.

Dahlia's gaze flicked between the two women, her chest tightening with the weight of their shared history. Agatha and Rio hadn't spoken directly since Dahlia had joined the coven, but their silence was loud enough to make up for it. The air between them crackled with unspoken words, with a history that neither seemed eager to confront.

"Agatha Harkness. Find her. Agatha! Find her. Find them. Agatha Harkness. Agatha Harkness."

The words came suddenly, carried on the wind like a ghostly chant. The fire crackled louder, spitting embers into the dark as the forest seemed to lean in closer, shadows twisting and stretching in unnatural ways. Dahlia stiffened, her pulse quickening as she scanned the trees, her grey magic flickering at her fingertips in response to the growing tension.

"They're coming. We have to go!" Lilia shouted, her voice sharp and urgent, cutting through the murmurs of the forest.

She turned to the group, her silver hair catching the firelight like a warning beacon, "The summoning spell. We left the door open. The Salem Seven. When Agatha killed her original coven..."

"By stealing their power," Jennifer added pointedly, her eyes narrowing as she glanced at Agatha.

"Because her own mother tried to have her executed," Rio interjected smoothly, her voice laced with just enough amusement to draw a sharp glare from Jennifer.

Dahlia's brows rose slightly, her eyes narrowing as she studied Agatha, catching the faint flicker of something—guilt? Defiance?—in her expression. The Agatha she had known centuries ago had always been capable of incredible ruthlessness, but even this revelation was surprising.

"When Agatha murdered her sister witches, she spared their young children," Lilia added, her voice steady but ominous.

"Yeah, and then they became a feral, hive-minded coven bent on revenge," Rio said, leaning forward slightly.

She seemed almost amused by the tension, her dark eyes flicking to Dahlia as if daring her to comment.

Dahlia tilted her head, her sultry demeanor slipping into place as she gave Rio a faint, knowing smile, "Mercy really is overrated, isn't it?"

Rio's smirk deepened, but her reply was cut short as Agatha stormed into the circle, grabbing her coat from where it lay draped over a log.

"The moral of the story, kids," Agatha said sharply, her tone brisk as she moved with purpose, "is always finish what you started. Also, mercy is overrated. All right, everybody, pack up your shit! Let's go!"

The group exploded into motion, witches scrambling to their feet, gathering their belongings as the air around them grew heavier, crackling with the approach of something dark and powerful. Dahlia lingered for a moment, watching the chaos with a smirk that barely masked the nervous energy building in her chest.