The stone wall, overgrown with a cascade of moonflowers that only bloomed in the spectral light, offered little welcome tonight. Alvira's heart was a raw, aching mess, a testament to her futile attempt to secure Theo's happiness. Whispering an ancient, desperate incantation, the immovable stone groaned, reluctantly splitting in two, revealing the vibrant, hidden village on the other side. She slipped through, the passage sealing shut behind her with a final, definitive thud.
This place had been her sanctuary since childhood, a home where witches lived in unity, a family under the benevolent rule of their Queen—her mother. As she walked down the straight path, past familiar houses and the warm smiles of her people, she forced a smile in return, a hollow mask over her turmoil. Her mind was a million miles away.
She was in love with Theo, deeply and irrevocably. Seeing him upset today had shattered her. She was willing to do anything and everything for him, a dangerous commitment in a world where witches, vampires, and wolves were sworn enemies. They had fallen in love despite the centuries of bloodshed and forbidden rules. Theo had told her he felt the same, and despite the taboo, she believed that once others saw them together, they would understand and support their impossible bond.
To make Theo happy, she had to find out where Christopher was keeping the werewolf Alpha, Damien, hostage. It had been decades, and Damien seemed to have vanished from the world entirely. Every trail she followed led to a dead end.
But a question she had been furiously trying to avoid still lingered in her mind, a venomous whisper: Was finding Damien the right decision?
Rumors among the coven painted a terrifying picture. Damien was ruthless, a predator who enjoyed making his prey suffer before ending their lives. He found pleasure in other people's misery and had hunted witches for sport, killing thousands. Bringing back Damien meant unleashing a monster, putting her coven, innocent humans, and herself in immediate, existential danger. Was she willing to do that just for the sake of love? The question hung heavy in the air around her, a moral dilemma that threatened to tear her apart.
Suddenly, a hand pulled her, snapping her violently out of her thoughts and into a narrow alleyway between two homes.
"Where have you been?" The demanding pair of blue eyes looked at her, filled with worry.
It was Klara, her best friend and the coven's prophesied future Queen. Her silver hair, an unmistakable sign that she was Luna's chosen, shimmered even in the low light. Everyone admired Klara, not just for her beauty but the grace and power she carried. When her hair had turned silver, people were surprised; everyone had expected Alvira to be the next queen, given the tradition of the title passing through her family line. Instead of feeling bitter, Alvira was happy for her friend; Klara was like a sister, a perfect picture of an angel, unlike the darkness Alvira was currently pursuing.
"I... I was..." Alvira started, scrambling to construct a believable excuse. "I went to get some herbs to practice the new healing spell."
Klara pouted her lips, crossing her hands together. "And where are the herbs?" she asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "You know I know you very well, Alvira, and I can tell when you're lying."
Alvira's heart started a frantic race. She refused to make eye contact, the guilt an overwhelming weight. That made Klara cover her mouth in dawning, terrified realization. "Don't tell me you went to see him?" she whispered, the terror palpable in her voice. "They are dangerous, Alvira, they are not to be trusted."
"Shhh," Alvira said, covering Klara's mouth with a shaking hand, desperate to silence the dangerous words. "Theo is different."
"What if the queen finds out?" Klara asked, her eyes wide with fear for her friend's future.
Just then, a woman's voice, smooth and full of unquestionable authority, cut through the tense silence behind them.
"Find out about what?"
Alvira froze. The air instantly became still and heavy. Turning slowly, she found herself face-to-face with the witch queen, her mother.