RAVYN'S POV
The moment I stepped into the coven, the familiar sight greeted me like a warm, spiced breeze wrapping around my skin. It smelled of crushed herbs, old parchment, and lavender smoke. The air shimmered faintly with lingering magic—charms still dancing in the corners, candles floating just inches off the ground, and paper scrolls fluttering as if being whispered to by unseen mouths.
The ceiling was high and domed, built from black-stone etched with glowing sigils that pulsed in tune with the moonlight spilling through the stained glass above. Crystals hovered midair, casting rainbow refractions over ancient tapestries that depicted witches through the ages: warriors, queens, outcasts. The walls were lined with vine-covered shelves, filled with labeled jars—some glowing, some bubbling, others sealed with wax and twine. Soft chimes rang out from the far left corner, where an incantation was being practiced, and the very floor hummed under my boots, as if recognizing my steps.
And to my right, down the arched hallway with runes carved into its frame, stood Circe, Lilith, and Nyx. They were gathered near the herb-laden table, the air around them thick with sisterhood and the unmistakable scent of dried rosemary and rose oil.
The moment Nyx saw me, her eyes lit up like fireflies. She bolted toward me with a giddy gasp. "Ravyn!" she squealed, flinging her arms around me before I could even brace.
My hands instinctively found her waist as I hugged her back, chuckling softly. "Missed me?" I teased, raising a brow as she pulled away just enough to nod with that wide-eyed grin of hers.
"I can tell," I added with a sly smile, letting go as Circe and Lilith approached, their expressions far more composed—but the faint curve of Circe's lips betrayed her amusement.
"The elders want to speak to you," Circe said, jerking her head toward the heavy oak door across the hall.
I followed her gaze and sighed. "Already?"
Nyx leaned in, lowering her voice like she was about to share a scandal. "The Moon Mother is there too."
I arched a brow, more out of curiosity than worry. "Mmh." I gave a nod and turned toward the door.
Behind me, just as my fingers reached for the handle, I heard Lilith's sharp voice rise.
"Nyx... are those my new boots?!"
A nervous giggle followed. "They were lonely in your closet!"
I smiled to myself and pushed the door open.
The council chamber was cold—always cold. The temperature never changed, no matter the season. The fire never burned. It was said to reflect the judgment of the elders—unwavering, unfeeling. The room was round, encased in obsidian stone that glinted like ice. Thirteen high-backed chairs stood in a crescent, and at the far end, on a raised silver throne wrapped in vines and moonstone, sat the Moon Queen—my Moon Mother.
Her expression was carved from stone, beautiful and unreadable. A diadem of silver rested in her white hair, her long robes pooling at her feet like water. She did not look at me. Not yet.
"So," one of the elders began, her voice low and ancient, "our suspicions were correct?"
My eyes flicked toward the Queen before returning to the elder. I gave a single nod.
"That means you'll be leaving for Court—"
"This night," the Queen interrupted, her voice like winter wind slicing through silk.
Gasps rippled through the chamber, not just from the elders but from me as well.
I blinked. Surely, she was joking.
But the Moon Mother never joked. Especially not with the way her gaze landed on me—steady, cold, commanding.
"But Mother—!" one of the younger elders began, clearly as shaken as I was.
Another elder cut her off, Willow, the seer. She rose from her seat, her gown whispering across the stone as she moved. "A letter arrived tonight. Court will not be accepting any new dancers after this moon. The next opportunity won't come for three full moons."
She met my gaze briefly—calm and certain. "This is our only chance."
My fingers curled into fists.
I stepped forward slightly. "Fine, I understand. But... does it have to be tonight? It's so sudden. My birthday is in two weeks." My voice cracked slightly as frustration slipped in. "It's my eighteenth birthday, and I wanted to celebrate it here — with my sisters."
A moment of silence stretched... then shattered.
"You will celebrate it at Court," Willow replied, not unkindly, but firm.
"With who?" I snapped before I could stop myself. "Strangers? Werewolves? Alphas who'd rather see me bound in silver than breathing?"
"You are not going alone." The Queen's voice echoed, sharp and final. "Your coven sisters will accompany you. Lilith. Circe. Nyx. And others. You are not a sacrifice, Ravyn. You are a weapon. And even weapons do not go to war without their blades."
I stared at her, stunned. "This is insane."
My voice came out low, tight. The pressure in my chest was rising—rage, confusion, betrayal. "We were just laughing, bathing by the lake. Now you're saying we're leaving tonight? Without warning?"
The Queen stood slowly, her shadow stretching across the floor. Her eyes narrowed.
"Mind yourself, young flame. You walk dangerously close to insolence."
My breath caught. I dropped my gaze, jaw tight.
I could still feel her eyes on me.
"We do not do this lightly," Willow added, more gently. "But the stars have aligned. The court is vulnerable, distracted. Your presence now is crucial. If we wait, the door will shut. Perhaps forever."
I didn't speak. I couldn't.
My heartbeat pounded in my ears.
"You may take a moment to breathe, but do not waste time," the Queen said, already sitting again. "Go to your room. Gather what you need. You leave before dawn."
I swallowed the lump rising in my throat and gave a shallow bow.
"Yes, Moon Mother."
The cold followed me out as I stepped from the chamber.
And it was only then, once the door closed behind me, that I let myself curse under my breath. Quietly. Bitterly.
I was leaving.
Tonight.
Everything was changing.