Yelena watched with growing horror as the scene unfolded before her, the ritualistic sacrifice playing out in front of her eyes. Bastianna's authoritative voice cut through the tense air, her words dripping with conviction as she led the macabre ceremony.

"Our magic fades as our ties to our ancestors weaken over time. We beseech them, accept this offering as a sign of our faith," Bastianna intoned, her voice carrying across the cemetery.

Yelena's mind raced as she recalled the urgency of the case that had brought her here, the desperate pleas of a woman seeking to save her daughter, Monique, from a fate she couldn't comprehend. But now, faced with the grim reality of the Harvest ritual, Yelena knew she had to act, regardless of the risks.

Summoning her resolve, Yelena drew her Glock 22, the weight of the weapon familiar in her hands. With measured steps, she approached the scene, her heart pounding in her chest as she prepared to intervene.

"To be born, you must sacrifice. Do you have faith?" Bastianna's words hung heavy in the air, sending a chill down Yelena's spine. But when Abigail's throat was mercilessly slit instead of the promised blood sacrifice, Yelena's instincts kicked in.

Without hesitation, Yelena fired her weapon, aiming for the witches restraining the terrified girls. Her shots rang out, each one a testament to her determination to disrupt the ritual and save as many lives as she could.

But even as she fought back, Yelena's ammunition ran dry, leaving her to rely on her pocket knife in the ensuing chaos. With swift movements, she defended herself against the desperate witches, her focus unwavering amidst the frenzy.

Amidst the chaos, the sudden arrival of Marcel and his vampire allies provided a glimmer of hope. As the vampires launched their attack, Yelena fought alongside them, her determination to protect the innocent driving her forward.

Yet, despite her efforts, tragedy struck in the form of Monique's untimely demise. Yelena's heart sank as she watched helplessly, her failure to save the girl weighing heavily on her conscience.

Caught in Marcel's grasp, Yelena struggled against him, her cries echoing in the night as she grappled with the harsh reality of her shortcomings. In the aftermath of the failed rescue, Yelena couldn't shake the feeling of regret that gnawed at her, a bitter reminder of the cost of failure in their world.

Marcel sees the surprised look on Sophie's face and vamp-speeds himself and Yelena away before she can get hurt. Marcel and Yelena enter the attic room for the first time immediately after the failed attempt at the Harvest ritual.

"What were you thinking?" Marcel's voice is firm, betraying his concern as he confronts Yelena.

"I got a case. And it paid good, so I took it," Yelena explains, her voice tinged with the remnants of adrenaline coursing through her veins.

"Enzo should be here," she adds, a note of worry in her tone.

"I am here. Davina called me crying because of some vision she had," Enzo's voice cuts in, his confusion evident.

"She got a case and then ended up here. She took down a couple of witches and 2 victims got away," Marcel informs Enzo, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on him.

"Right, Yelena let's go, NOW," Marcel's command is decisive, prompting Yelena to nod in silent agreement. She moves to the car and slides into the passenger seat, feeling the weight of the night's events settling upon her.

As Marcel begins to drive, the silence between them is palpable, thick with unspoken words and unanswered questions. But eventually, Yelena breaks the silence, her voice soft but tinged with uncertainty.

"Why did you put everything in jeopardy?" Marcel's question hangs in the air, lingering between them as Yelena searches for an explanation.

"If you knew half the things I did, would you just stay in the background and let the bad stuff happen, or would you step up and do something?" Yelena's voice is introspective, her gaze fixed on Marcel as she awaits his response.

"Go to sleep, Little Savior," Marcel's tone is gentle as he retrieves a blanket from the backseat, offering it to Yelena with a small smile.

"Thanks," Yelena murmurs gratefully, curling up on her side as exhaustion begins to wash over her. But even as sleep beckons, her mind continues to churn with thoughts of the night's events, grappling with the weight of her actions and the consequences that may yet unfold.