{RIVEN'S POV}
The fire crackled in Morganna's hearth, the only sound in this suffocating silence.
Rhea and Morganna sat rigid in their chairs, while I leaned against the wall on the fire side of the room, arms crossed, trying to read the storm in this young witch's eyes.
Aurora.
Every time our eyes met, her face burned red with fury, her lips curling in disdain. I could already tell she hates me. And though I barely know her and she barely knew me, it's perfectly understandable.
Because of who I am. Because of what I represent. I don't blame her at all for feeling the way she feels.
I can relate.
"So," Aurora's voice finally broke through the silence. "Is no one going to talk?"
Neither Morganna nor my mother answered. Their eyes flickered to each other, silent, weighed down by truths too heavy to voice.
"Say something!" Aurora's voice cracked into a yell, her eyes glistening with tears.
My mother flinched. Then at last, she spoke.
"My son… Riven is a witch hunter."
"And you're a witch!" Aurora shot back, her voice trembling with outrage.
"But it's for good reason," Morganna said, her tone cold but steady. "He serves a greater purpose to us, and to Nevermoor."
"How?!" Aurora snapped, tears breaking free. "How the hell does a man who has dedicated his entire life to hunting and slaughtering our people like animals, serve a greater purpose? What twisted reason do you have for justifying this?"
"I sent him." My mother confessed, her voice cutting the air like a blade. Even Aurora went silent.
My mother's next words came softer, shaking. "Years ago… when he was barely fifteen, I sent him to Aradel to join The Severance. To train. To become a witch hunter."
"Why?" Aurora whispered, disbelief lacing the single word.
"We were tired," my mother replied, her voice rising, trembling harder with each sentence. "Tired of running. Tired of hiding. Tired of losing our loved ones. Tired of living every day in fear that it might be the last."
Her hands clenched against her lap, and I stepped forward at last, my voice calm despite the tension cutting into my chest.
"There were only a handful of us when we first came to Nevermoor. Magic could fortify the settlement, but against witch hunters with anti-magic weapons? That was no guarantee. If we didn't act, it was only a matter of time before this place was found."
I slowly moved toward Aurora, who turned to face me with eyes like burning glass.
"I'm human," I said. "Born of a witch, yes, but with no magic of my own. I thought it was a weakness. Morganna saw it as an advantage. She suggested to my mother that I join them. Learn their ways, rise through their ranks, and protect us from within."
Aurora's jaw clenched, but I pressed on.
"But in the end, it was my choice. I chose to go. I chose to become a witch hunter. If you want someone to hate, hate me."
I stopped in front of her, crouching so our eyes met.
"But know this," I said, staring into those emerald eyes. "No matter how much you want to despise me, the truth is this, one day Nevermoor would've been discovered."
"And it was," Morganna said coldly.
I rose, moving past her, my hands clasped behind my back.
"Six years ago," I began, "the King and Queen expanded the hunt. No longer just villages and towns. The witch hunters were sent into the forests after reports reached the capital, of witches retreating there whenever they were discovered. Maps were drawn to scour potential locations. Nevermoor was on one of them."
Aurora stiffened.
"If I hadn't stolen those maps and altered them, this place would've been razed long ago."
"Three years ago," Morganna added, "a hunting party nearly discovered us. A scout followed one of ours back here. Riven had just become Vice-Commander at the time, and thank Astoria that the Commander was ill at the time, so the hunter reported to Riven instead."
"I killed him," I said flatly. Aurora's breath caught, but I didn't flinch. "I silenced him to protect Nevermoor."
I shook my head as I asked her, "How do you think Nevermoor has grown so much? You see hundreds upon hundreds of witches, warlocks and children running around. How do you think most of them got here?"
For a heartbeat, Aurora said nothing.
"Whenever The Severance got wind of potential witch settlements, I'd go out on my own to find out for myself if it's true. And whenever it was, I warned them. Helped them flee and reach Nevermoor just in time."
"But you still kill witches!" She turned on me with blazing eyes, then swung her fury to Morganna and my mother. "I saw him kill one in front of an entire village! He would've let them slaughter her child too if we hadn't interfered!"
The room fell silent again until Morganna finally spoke, her words colder than ice.
"Aurora… in life, sometimes sacrifices have to be made."
The color drained from Aurora's face. Her lips parted, trembling. "How—how can even you say that?" Her voice shattered into sobs. "How can you just sit here and comfortably say that, when every day more witches are tortured and slaughtered like cattle?"
"Aurora…" my mother whispered, reaching out.
"Don't touch me!" Aurora wrenched back, pointing at all three of us with shaking hands. "You're all selfish!"
She stormed out, slamming the door behind her with a boom that rattled the walls.
I let the silence linger, then gave Morganna a sharp look. "You know you didn't have to say that."
Without waiting for her reply, I left.
The night air bit cold against my skin as I went after her.
I called out. "Aurora, wait!" but she only walked faster.
I caught up in two long strides and grabbed her wrist.
"Let go of me!" she snapped, yanking hard but I held on tighter instead, refusing to let go.
"Aurora, listen—"
The crack of her hand against my cheek silenced me almost instantly.
My head snapped to the side, the stinging burn spreading across my face, but I still didn't let go.
Her chest heaved, her eyes red with tears, hate carved deep in every line of her face. "Let. Go."
Slowly, I released her wrist with a sigh.
"I know you're angry," I said in a calm, low voice. "And I know you hate me. And to be honest, you have every right to. But you need to understand that I'm not like the rest of them."
Aurora laughed bitterly, her voice shaking. "Humans." The word dripped with venom. "You humans use fear to justify everything you do to us. You hunt us like animals. You mutilate us. You violate us. You kill us."
"Aurora—"
"Not like the rest of them? You call yourself a witch hunter. You wear their colors, bear their sigils. And you dare tell me you're different?"
"Aurora please just liste—"
"YOUR KIND STORMED MY HOME IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT! THEY SLAUGHTERED MY PARENTS!"
Her hands fumbled at the chain around her neck. She ripped the locket free and shoved it against my chest with shaking hands.
"Look at her!" she cried, her voice breaking. "Look at the girl in this picture!"
I forced myself to look. The tiny, delicate face inside the locket stared back at me—innocent, smiling, frozen in time.
"That was my sister," Aurora's words came out ragged between sobs. "She was thirteen. Do you hear me? Thirteen! Your kind… they took her. They took turns and raped her. Again and again and again!"
Her words tore stabbed my heart like knives My chest tightened until I could barely breathe.
"They made me watch." She cried. "And when they were done, they drove a sword through her chest and left her body in the dirt."
"She never hurt anyone," Aurora whispered. "She was just a child. She didn't deserve that."
I stepped closer, my hands hovering before I gently rested them on her shoulders. My voice trembled despite the steadiness I tried to hold.
"Aurora… I swear to you, I would never, ever do something like that. I'd rather burn in hell before I lay a hand on a child. What happened to your sister… It was evil. It was monstrous. And I am sorry."
Her breath came in ragged bursts. Then, violently, she ripped herself away from me.
The second slap came harder, so hard my vision blurred as my head snapped to the side. The metallic tang of blood filled my mouth.
Slowly, I turned back, meeting her broken gaze. I saw the anger, the pain, the grief and it broke me.
"You'll never convince me. As long as your hands are stained with witchblood, you're no different from them. You will always be a witch hunter."
She spat at my feet, the gesture cutting me deep in my chest. Then she turned and walked away, her figure swallowed by the shadows of night.
I stood rooted to the spot, my cheek throbbing, my heart torn open.
The blood on my tongue meant nothing compared to the ache in my chest.