[ BOOK THREE ]
Ryan Mikaelson has spent his entire life hearing stories about his family and their past. The infamous Original family. The villains of the supernatural world. His world. But now, it's his turn to make his own mark.
Now a student at...
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CHAPTER FOUR
We're Being Punk'd, Pedro
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RYAN SPRINTED through the halls of the school to Alaric's office. Pedro had already beaten him there, breathing heavily from either the run or strange encounter with the gargoyle, most likely both. He appeared in the doorway just in time to hear the little boy relayed what had happened to the statue and that it chased him, Ryan, and Lizzie into the school. Ryan followed up with the thing facing off with Lizzie at the entrance, alone.
They all booked it back through the school and to where Lizzie was left with the gargoyle. When they arrived, the creature was gone and the girl remained splayed across the floor unmoving.
"Lizzie?" Alaric exclaimed as soon as his eyes landed on his daughter. "God, Lizzie." He rushed to her side, kneeling next her on the ground. "Lizzie, hey. Oh, what happened?" he muttered lowly to himself, especially when he saw her sweatshirt shredded above her stomach. But as he looked her over, Lizzie failed to move a single muscle, except for her eyes. She tried to talk, but only a muffled sound was made. "She isn't moving," Alaric spoke louder and glanced around at the primary school kids who piled into the room. "Why – why isn't she moving?"
"That statue hurt her," Pedro stated, staring down at the wound on Lizzie's stomach.
Ryan stood next to the little boy, his eyes widening when Alaric peeled back his daughter's shirt to reveal four long gashes in her stomach. But instead of it bleeding profusely, the edges were a dull grey and stiff like the gargoyle itself.
Alaric immediately turned his attention to Ryan. "Can you – um – can you try to heal her?" he asked.
Ryan swallowed with a curt nod. "I can try, but I've only done like small scraps and cuts before," he said and dropped down next to the man.
Over the years, Ryan learned that he inherited more than just his mother's strange magic. Along with the multicolored sparks, that he could not produce or hide at his command, he could heal himself and others with them. The method only worked a handful of times, each attempt draining Ryan to the point of becoming dizzy and nauseous.
Ryan took a deep breath and nodded, again. He took up Alaric spot when the man stood to his feet with his phone in his hand. Ryan set his eyes on the gashes and then up to where Lizzie looked at him, her expression undetectable. "Sorry, but this might hurt," he told her as he raised his hands to hover over her wound. He allowed his hands to glow a faint blue, sparks dancing around his fingers and palms as he did so. He forced all of his strength into healing Lizzie, but nothing seemed to happen with the gashes. Nothing at all.
