LOGINMira Pov
For a second, I didn’t move. I was still holding Grandma’s hand, kneeling on the floor, trying to process the final words she had forced out.
“They’re here.”
Outside, something shifted on the porch. It wasn't loud or dramatic, but it was heavy enough that I knew it wasn’t the wind. My brain refused to accept it at first. What exactly are you supposed to do when your grandmother gives you a cryptic warning right before heavy footsteps approach your front door? There isn’t a manual for this.
“Grandma?” I whispered again, squeezing her hand a little tighter. “Who is here?”
She didn’t answer. Her eyes remained open, but her gaze was empty, staring right through me. That was when I heard it clearly—a second set of footsteps joined the first. Then a third. They weren't rushing. They walked with a steady, terrifying patience, like people who knew their target had nowhere left to hide.
My stomach dropped. Okay. Nope.
I slowly lowered her hand onto the floor and stood up, my legs feeling like lead. My eyes stayed fixed on the front door—the door I had definitely failed to close all the way when I panicked and ran inside. Because of course I hadn’t.
For a second, I didn’t move.
“Okay,” I whispered to myself again, because apparently I talk to myself when I’m about to die. “This is fine. This is totally fine.”
The door creaked open wider.
And I saw them.
Three figures.
Standing there like they had all the time in the world.
Tall.
Covered in dark clothes.
Their faces weren’t fully visible, but I could feel their attention lock onto me immediately.
Not like normal people looking at someone.
More like… confirming something.
One of them tilted his head slightly.
And I swear, I felt it in my chest.
Like recognition.
I took a step back without thinking.
Bad idea.
The moment I moved, all three of them moved at the same time.
Not running,Just stepping forward.
Calm.Certain.Like they already knew I wasn’t going anywhere.
“Stay back,” I said, though my voice didn’t sound like mine at all.
It sounded small.
The first figure stepped into the house.
Then the second.Then the third.They didn’t look around.
They didn’t react to the mess.
They came in like they already knew exactly what they were here for.
My body started to feel cold in a way I couldn’t explain.
One of them finally spoke.
His voice wasn’t loud.It didn’t need to be.
“She’s here.”
My heart jumped.
“She?” I repeated before I could stop myself.
The man turned his head slightly toward me.
And even though I couldn’t see his full face, I could feel it.
He was looking directly at me.
“Don’t,” I said quickly, taking another step back. “Don’t come closer.”
That got no reaction.None at all.
Instead, the second one lifted his hand slightly like he was signaling something and that was when everything went wrong,the air in the room changed.
Not metaphorically.
It actually felt different.
He moved first.
Fast.Way faster than a normal person should.I barely had time to react before I turned and ran.Straight into the hallway.Behind me, I heard footsteps immediately.
Not slow anymore.
Not calm.
Still controlled, but now… chasing.
“Grandma!” I shouted without thinking.
No answer.Of course.I didn’t look back.
I ran past the broken frame, almost slipping on the glass, and pushed through the side door leading out of the kitchen.
The moment I hit the backyard air, it felt colder.I didn’t stop.
I just kept running.I could hear them behind me now.
Closer than I wanted.
Too close.
Branches hit my arms as I pushed through the side path, but I didn’t care. Pain didn’t matter right now. Thinking didn’t matter right now.
Only distance.
I reached the back gate and shoved it open hard enough that it slammed against the fence.
I ran into the narrow alley behind our house.
Bad idea number two.
The alley was tight.
No lights.No easy exit.
Just walls and trash bins and nowhere to go except forward.
But I didn’t have time to rethink it.
Footsteps hit the ground behind me again.Faster now Closer.
I turned a corner sharply and nearly collided with a trash bin.
I caught myself, breathing hard, heart basically trying to escape my chest.
“What do you want from me?” I yelled back without thinking.
Silence answered me.Then one voice.Same calm tone as before.
“You already know.”
That made something inside me snap.
Because I didn’t know.
I really didn’t.
I started running again.
My legs were burning now, but I pushed anyway. The alley opened slightly into a wider street ahead, and I aimed for it like my life depended on it.
Because it did.
I burst out onto the road—
And stopped so suddenly I almost fell backward.
A car.Parked right in front of me.Black.Engine off.Lights out.
Just sitting there like it had been waiting.
My breath caught.Behind me, footsteps slowed.
They weren’t rushing anymore.Because now they didn’t have to.I turned my head slowly.They were at the end of the alley.
Blocking it completely.
One step forward and I was trapped.
One step back and I was done.
I stood there, breathing hard, looking between the car and the men.
My brain was screaming at me to move, but there was nowhere to go.
Then the driver’s door of the car opened.
And someone stepped out.
That was when I realized this wasn’t just a chase anymore.
It was a capture.
And I had already lost.
Mira's POVUp close, the First Witch's presence felt considerably different from the distant, unsettling awareness I had sensed approaching these past days, warmer somehow, though something ancient and immeasurably weighted still lingered beneath her calm, elegant bearing. We had settled onto a low stone bench near the edge of the training grounds, close enough to the pack house that Rowan's watchful presence remained visible at the corner of my vision, far enough that our conversation carried privately across the cooling evening air.Up close, I could see details the distance had obscured. Fine lines at the corners of her eyes, the particular kind that came from genuine, repeated laughter rather than simple age. A small, faded scar along her jaw that made her feel, suddenly, considerably more mortal than the ancient, unsettling figure I'd braced myself to face. She smelled faintly of something I couldn't properly name, not quite herbs, not quite smoke, something that reminded me dist
Rowan's POVShe arrived three days later, at dusk, walking alone through Blackwood's main gate without escort, without any visible weapon or obvious threat accompanying her unhurried approach. The sky had turned the particular deep orange it sometimes did before the first proper frost of the season, and against that light her figure appeared first as simply a silhouette, tall and unhurried, moving with a pace that suggested she had all the time in the world and intended to use every moment of it.I had prepared for considerable danger, warriors positioned carefully throughout the grounds, Lyra standing ready with whatever protective magic she could properly muster on short notice, Elias stationed near the eastern wall with a considerable contingent held in reserve should the situation genuinely deteriorate. None of it seemed to matter, watching this single, unassuming figure approach with the particular calm certainty of someone who understood, completely, that no defense we had assem
Mira's POVLyra's message to the Moon Court returned within days, considerably faster than any previous correspondence, and I understood, watching her expression as she read through the council's response, that our discoveries had genuinely shaken something significant within their own careful, ancient understanding. She read it twice through before finally looking up, and something in the careful stillness of her expression told me the contents carried more weight than a simple acknowledgment."They're sending someone directly," she said, folding the letter carefully. "Not simply a written response. A formal envoy, understanding the significance of everything we've uncovered.""When?" Rowan asked."Within the week."We spent the following days preparing carefully, gathering every piece of evidence properly organized, understanding the Moon Court's council would need considerable context to properly appreciate everything we had discovered about Wren's tragic story, the misinterpreted
Rowan's POVWe gathered every piece of evidence we had accumulated over these past weeks, Corwin's diary, Wren's complete account, the original prophecy texts from Blackwood's own hidden collection, and spread them across my study table, understanding that somewhere within this considerable accumulated knowledge, we might finally properly understand the full scope of what actually awaited us. The table itself had grown crowded enough that we'd taken to stacking the less immediately relevant texts along the floor beneath it, an arrangement Elias had grumbled about more than once, though he'd stopped grumbling entirely once he understood how genuinely close we were to something significant."Read the original prophecy again," Mira said, gesturing toward the ancient text Adrian had first shown us months earlier, its edges considerably more worn now from months of repeated handling than they had been the day we first uncovered it. "Properly, word for word, without the assumptions everyone
Mira's POVWe returned to the diary one final time the following morning, understanding we had reached its concluding pages, and I settled before the worn leather cover with a particular mixture of anticipation and genuine dread, uncertain what this final revelation might demand of me. The chamber felt different that morning, quieter somehow, as though it too understood we had arrived at something conclusive. Even the small, steady lights Lyra had strung along the walls seemed dimmer, or perhaps I simply noticed the dimness more, my attention narrowed entirely onto the worn leather resting across my knees.Rowan sat close beside me, his shoulder pressed lightly against mine, a quiet, deliberate reassurance rather than anything demanding my attention. Elias had settled cross-legged near the low table, uncharacteristically still. Lyra remained standing, arms crossed, her posture carrying the particular tension of someone bracing for news she already suspected would prove difficult.The
Mira's POVLyra's expression grew increasingly troubled as I explained everything the final memory had revealed, and I watched her pace my study with obvious agitation, working through the implications with considerable focus. She moved the way she always did when genuinely unsettled, quick, restless steps that carried her from the window to the bookshelf and back again, as though physical motion might somehow help her properly organize thoughts too large to sit still with."The First Witch," she said slowly. "I've heard fragments of that name throughout my own studies, though never anything conclusive. Ancient references, mostly, suggesting someone existing since the earliest days of supernatural history, considerably before even Selene's own time.""You think she's still alive," Rowan said, understanding the implication immediately."I think it's entirely possible," Lyra said grimly. "Beings this ancient and powerful don't simply disappear. They withdraw, sometimes for centuries, ob







