LOGINSeventeen‑year‑old Raven has spent her whole life drifting through the foster system, never staying long enough to call anywhere home. With her eighteenth birthday—and the end of state support—only weeks away, she’s sent to the strange little town of Hallow’s Edge, a place obsessed with Halloween and thick with secrets. The Connors, her new foster family, are nothing like the others. Warm. Protective. Magical. And their son Noah? He’s distant, intense, and impossible to read… yet Raven feels an instant pull toward him she can’t explain. But Hallow’s Edge is waking up. Students are disappearing. Shadows move where they shouldn’t. And Raven’s dreams are filled with a crying woman and a warning she can’t escape. When Raven’s dormant witch powers begin to stir, she discovers she’s the last heir of a powerful witch bloodline—and Noah is bound to her by a fate older than the town itself. In Hallow’s Edge, nothing is accidental. Not her arrival. Not her magic.
View MoreI’m halfway through organizing the winter supply inventory when my phone buzzes.A name flashes across the screen. Delaney Warren.I freeze. Delaney hasn’t called anyone in eighteen years. I answer immediately. “Delaney?”Her voice is tight, urgent. “Clara… I need your help.”I don’t ask questions. Not yet. Not when her tone tells me everything I need to know.“I’ll come,” I say. “Tell me where.”“Hallow’s Edge,” she replies. “By nightfall.”I exhale slowly. “We’ll be there.”She tells me what's going on and what she needs. When I hang up, Aaron is already standing in the doorway of my office, arms crossed and brow raised. “Did I hear that right?” he asks. “Delaney called you?”I nod. “Yes.”He whistles under his breath. “She’s been missing for eighteen years.”“I know,” I say softly. “And I’ll explain what happened when we get there.”He steps closer, expression shifting from surprise to concern. “Clara… if she’s calling you now, it’s serious.”“It is,” I admit. “We need to be on the
I wake to an empty bed. For half a second, my heart jumps— until the matebond hums softly, warm and steady, telling me she’s close. Safe. Calm. Thinking. I smile into the pillow. Of course she’s up early.I stretch, pull on sweatpants and a shirt, and head downstairs. Halfway down, I hear voices...low, tense, arguing. Dad. And Delaney. Great. I step into the living room just as Dad throws his hands up. “Delaney, this is insane. You can’t seriously think this is a good idea.”Delaney’s voice is sharp. “It’s the only idea we have left.”Mom is sitting on the couch, looking like she’s trying to mediate without actually stepping between them. Raven is curled in the corner of the couch, mug in hand, watching them with wide eyes. I go straight to her and sit beside her, our knees touching. She leans into me automatically, the bond humming warm. “What’s going on?” I murmur.She sighs. “Mom wants to call a Luna in to help us learn more about the prophecy.”My eyebrows lift. “A Luna?”She nods
I wake before Noah. The room is dim, the soft gray of early morning slipping through the curtains. Noah is still asleep beside me, one arm draped over my waist, breathing slow and steady. The matebond hums quietly, warm, comforting, peaceful. I smile. But my mind is already turning. Thinking. Planning. Worrying. I slip carefully out from under his arm, trying not to wake him. He stirs once, reaching for me instinctively, but settles again when the bond reassures him I’m close. I pull on a sweater and head downstairs.The farmhouse is quiet, wrapped in that soft hush only early mornings seem to have. I walk into the kitchen, expecting to start coffee, but the pot is already full. And one mug is missing. I blink. Who else would be up this early?I grab my own mug, pour coffee, and head toward the back door. The November air is crisp, cool enough to make me pull the sweater tighter around me.When I step onto the porch, I see her. Mom sits in one of the rocking chairs, legs tucked under
Noah keeps his arm around me as we sit on the couch, the matebond warm and steady against the panic still twisting in my chest. I can feel his heartbeat through his shirt, slow, grounding, safe. Mom sits on my other side, close enough that her knee touches mine. Liam stands behind the couch, hands on the backrest, jaw tight. Grace and Emily sit across from us, both leaning forward, both worried. Everyone is here. Everyone is listening. And I’m terrified.I take a shaky breath. “It was a vision. Not real. But… it felt real.” Mom’s hand finds mine instantly. “Sweetheart, tell us everything.” So I do. I tell them about the Nothing. About the Hallow wearing Brad’s face. About the fury. About the threat. About the words he used. “He said I was supposed to be his vestal,” I whisper. “His vessel. His doorway.”Mom’s breath catches. Liam’s eyes widen. Grace presses a hand to her mouth. Emily whispers, “Oh my god…”Noah pulls me closer, his thumb brushing my shoulder in slow circles. “And he s
I step away from Raven’s door, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I shouldn’t have gone up there. I shouldn’t have stood in her doorway staring at her like I forgot how to function. I shouldn’t have felt… whatever that was. But I did. And now everything inside me is twisted. I walk down the hall tow
Dinner smells incredible, warm spices, fresh cornbread, something sweet cooling on the counter, but my stomach is too tight to enjoy any of it. I sit between Emily and Mrs. Connor, trying to look normal, trying to pretend I belong here.Ms. Carter left a few minutes ago after finishing the last of
Emily’s room smells like vanilla, old books, and something warm I can’t name. Maybe it’s safety. Maybe it’s magic. Maybe it’s just her. She talks a mile a minute as she leads me through the hallway toward my room, pointing out creaky floorboards, the bathroom we’ll share, and the window that sticks
The road to Hallow’s Edge swallows us whole. Fog curls around the car in thick, dragging sheets, smearing across the windows like fingers trying to get in. The air smells damp and metallic, like pennies, or blood, and every mile we drive feels like we’re sinking deeper into something ancient.Ms. C
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