LOGIN--- River Witch Some bloodlines are bound to water. Some debts are never paid in full. When Evelyn Blake returns to the remote riverside village of Elowen after fifteen years away, she expects grief and silence—but not the whispers that rise from the mist-covered water. As bodies resurface and ghostly lights drift through the fog, Evelyn uncovers a buried legacy: a pact made generations ago between her family and a nameless spirit that haunts the river. With the curse's final reckoning approaching, Evelyn must confront the sins of her bloodline, unravel the truth behind her ancestor’s forbidden ritual, and decide whether to escape the fate written for her—or embrace it. In a village where no one speaks of the drowned, the river never forgets. And it always collects what it’s owed.
View MoreThe Drowning CrownThe crown lay where it had fallen—in the trench, beneath miles of black water, on a throne of stone and spine.It had once pulsed with will, bound to tides, pulling souls into the deep like a whisper behind their ribs. But now it was dormant. Waiting.The river above no longer listened to it.Because she had said no.The girl it called Salt-Blooded had broken the pact. Not out of rebellion. Not out of war. But out of something far more dangerous:Love.The sea does not understand love. It understands hunger. Pull. Obedience. Currents.But Mireya had remembered the warmth of land. The ache of laughter. The grief of memory. The strength of holding someone’s hand instead of drowning alone.She had remembered herself.And that, above all else, had changed the tide.—It had been three weeks since they returned to the village on the hill.News of the returned “drowned” spread like stormfire. Some ran in fear. Others wept and kissed the salt-crusted cheeks of children the
TidebornThe sun rose slow and low over the water, like it wasn’t sure it was welcome.Mireya stood at the river’s edge, barefoot, salt-washed, arms crossed as she stared across the endless current. The river looked different now—brighter, clearer. But it also watched her. She could feel it—not as a threat anymore, but as a twin.It knew her now.Behind her, the freed drowned—now fully breathing, speaking, and blinking in the morning light—slept in a makeshift camp. They had begun calling each other by old names, trading memories like seashells: “I used to work at the ferry,” “My mother lived on the hill,” “There was a girl—I think I loved her once.”She had done that.Not with magic.But with memory.With blood that remembered the sea but chose the land.Bastian sat on a log nearby, half-dozing, still watching her like he couldn’t believe she was real.She was quiet when she spoke. “I still hear them. In the current.”He stood and came to her side. “The drowned?”“No,” she said. “The
The Blood-Flood PactMireya stood in the center of the collapse, breathless.Where the Tide-Heart had been was now only mist—glowing, pulsing, laced with the scent of rain and blood. The chamber that once felt eternal now cracked at the edges. Water ran upward. The walls flickered like torn canvas.But she was still there.Alive.Somehow.Bastian knelt nearby, covering his face as a final wave of saltwind ripped through the space. His hair dripped, his hands burned faintly from the light that had poured out of Mireya. “Are we dead?” he asked, coughing.“No,” Mireya whispered. “But the sea will never be the same.”Then came the voice—not from around them, but from within her.The drowned queen.Fainter now.“You have severed the Heart,” it rasped. “You have broken the pact.”“I didn’t break it,” Mireya replied, eyes glowing faintly green. “I rewrote it.”Her skin shimmered—part salt, part shadow. Her veins still pulsed with water, but it no longer drowned her. It obeyed her.A pact ha
: The Sea Within HerThe figure that stepped from the vision wasn’t made of flesh. It shimmered, translucent, like a body formed of memory and tide.But its face was hers.Not exactly. The cheekbones were sharper, the eyes older, the mouth crueler. It looked like what Mireya might become if she surrendered everything—her will, her name, her heart—to the deep.The drowned around them were gone. The salt gate behind them had vanished. They were inside something vast, ageless—a chamber that pulsed like the heart of the ocean.The figure stared at Mireya with something close to affection.“Do you know what you are yet?” it asked, voice like water slipping over bones.Mireya’s hand closed into a fist. “I’m not your vessel.”“No,” the reflection said. “You’re not just a vessel. You’re the anchor. The tether. The mouth of the river and the teeth of the sea.”Bastian stepped in front of Mireya, but she touched his shoulder, gently easing him back.“I’ve seen you before,” she said. “In dreams.
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