RAVYN'S POV
The sound of laughter echoed through the forest, soft and silvery, like wind chimes catching the breeze. It twined through the moonlight that filtered down in streams, casting silver ribbons across the surface of the lake. The water shimmered, reflecting the bare bodies of my sisters as they bathed, their magic humming in the air like heat from a flame.
They floated lazily, their skin glowing pale under the moonlight, strands of hair trailing behind them like silk ribbons. Some lay back on the surface, defying gravity with ease, while others playfully splashed at one another, giggling like children. A few stood waist-deep, washing each other's hair, massaging out tension with practiced fingers, while the soft sound of their chatter mixed with the occasional hum of a protection ward being lazily recast.
It was... peaceful. Almost sacred.
Ethereal, even.
We witches—born of moonlight and rage—were rarely granted still moments like this. When the world wasn't hunting us, we were hunting it. But here, in this secret forest, cloaked from the eyes of beasts and men, we were free. Just girls again.
Lilith lay sprawled on the moss near the edge of the lake, still bare and soaked, her long raven hair curling against her back. She tossed her head lazily toward me, propping herself on one elbow. "What will you do now, Ravyn?"
I sat with one knee drawn up, arms draped loosely around it, watching the girls, my mind tangled in too many threads. Before I could answer, Circe rose from the lake, water cascading down her curves in glimmering rivulets. She turned her head and squeezed the length of her dark hair, wringing out the water as it splashed over her feet.
She looked over her shoulder at me, smirking slightly. "You know the elders were already planning to send you to court. And after tonight? They'll definitely be sending you now."
I arched a brow as she stepped onto the grassy bank, her bare feet silent against the moss. She moved with that lazy confidence only Circe had—half royalty, half assassin.
She walked past me to the low-hanging branch where her clothes waited, drying in the breeze. She picked them off one by one, slowly dressing as she continued, "Just remember, Ravyn… it's court. You can't exactly go on a blood-splattered killing spree."
"I can, actually," I murmured with a smirk.
Lilith snorted behind me, getting to her feet as she began pulling her own tunic over her head. "Yeah, and then you'll be executed in a heartbeat. There are way more powerful wolves in court. You know that, right? Alphas. Generals. And the king himself."
She gave me a wide-eyed look, as if she hadn't seen me rip apart a full battalion of guards with a flick of my fingers.
Alpha or not, I didn't care. Power was power. And mine had never failed me before.
But... I knew the truth beneath their teasing. I couldn't act the same way in court. Couldn't flare my power like a wildfire. I'd have to shrink. Hide. Pretend. The worst kind of performance.
Because to enter court, I would need to go as a human girl.
A servant. A dancer. A shadow among wolves.
And that meant swallowing my pride, biting down on my rage, and letting them walk over me. Letting them believe they'd broken me. All to get close enough to find the truth.
Where was my mother?
Who had taken her?
Why were the most powerful witches going missing—and who had made them vanish without leaving even a whisper behind?
I had begged to be chosen. Offered myself up when the elders announced they'd be sending witches into the court under disguise. I wanted this.
But that didn't make it any easier.
One wrong slip, one outburst, one whisper of magic—and I'd lose everything. Not just my place. Not just the mission.
Everything I'd worked for over the years. Every secret I'd stolen, every life I'd ended in the name of revenge, every moment of self-control...
And yet, I would do it.
Because I was close.
So close.
And once I found her, once I dragged my mother out of that den of wolves, I would burn the whole place to ash.
Let them enjoy their power. Their hierarchy. Their arrogant alphas and gilded palaces.
For now.
I stood and clapped my hands sharply, drawing every head in the clearing toward me.
"Alright, girls," I called out, smiling. "Out of the water. Energy's back, moon's waning, time to get dressed."
A wave of groans followed.
Circe, now lacing up her boots, chuckled under her breath. "They're going to mutiny."
"I heard that," I said, shooting her a grin.
In the lake, the witches began to rise reluctantly, water cascading from their bodies. A few dragged themselves out dramatically, hands to their chests like they'd been mortally wounded by my order.
"Ugh, this water feels like liquid silk," one whined. "You're cruel, Ravyn."
"Yeah, can't we form our own coven here?" another added, hugging herself with a shiver and a smile.
Lilith stood beside me, watching them with a smirk. "If we leave them here, they'll start singing oaths under the stars."
"I can't blame them," I replied with a laugh. "It is comfortable."
Once dressed, we gathered our things—hidden satchels, herbs in pouches, small daggers we tucked into belts and boots. Each of us carried our magic like a second skin, invisible to the world but ready to strike at any moment.
We moved in a pack, like wolves ourselves.
The forest path back to the coven was narrow and overgrown, but familiar. The leaves brushed our shoulders as we passed, and the soft sounds of the woods came alive again—crickets, owls, the distant rustle of night things.
The moon followed us through the trees, casting our shadows long and thin on the cobblestone path.
Our feet slapped lightly on the worn stones, the pace picking up as someone shouted, "Last one back does cleanup duty!"
Screams and laughter erupted.
The girls bolted forward, running full speed, long skirts hiked up, boots thudding against the stone.
Even Circe broke into a run, her laughter sharp and bright.
I stayed behind, walking slowly.
Let them have this moment.
We approached the orphanage just as the last of the girls sprinted up the crooked steps, breathless and laughing.
The old building stood exactly as the town expected it to—weatherworn stone, chipped windows, warm candlelight flickering behind the curtains. Children's drawings clung to the walls, and a crooked sign above the door read "Moonridge Orphan House."
To anyone else, it was just that. An orphanage. A safe place for abandoned girls.
And it was... in part.
But behind the west hallway, through a warped wooden door that led to nothing but a broom closet—was a second entrance. A thin veil of magic shimmered there, invisible to human eyes. Only witches could pass through. Only we knew what truly waited beyond.
One by one, the girls slipped through, disappearing behind the door like ghosts.
No one ever questioned why certain girls were never adopted.
Why we never left.
Why the lights in the west wing always flickered.
No one ever looked too close.
I stood at the threshold a moment longer, watching the full moon cast its silver light across the rooftop. My fingers absently traced my bracelet, now gleaming with four dark charms—each one humming with the echo of a soul I'd claimed.
Four down.
So many more to go.
The court awaited.
And so did my vengeance.