Bound to the witch

Moonbound

Selene.

Aunt Llora arrived at my hamlet at dawn. I could never mistake her for anyone else. The hood of her signature red cloak was pushed back, revealing silver hair that shimmered like forged steel.

“Are you being rebellious now, Niece?”

Her voice dripped with a dangerously sweet allure. I said nothing, refusing to meet her gaze. She swept into the room, her eyes scanning every corner with open disdain. She avoided touching anything of mine, as if my belongings were beneath her.

One day, Llora would pay for everything she’d done to me—and to my father.

She stopped before me, trailing a long, sharp nail along my jawline until it pierced my skin.

“You're only alive because I allow it,” she murmured, tilting my chin up with cruel precision. I met her dark eyes with a blank stare. “Don’t forget, I can change my mind at any moment.”

I drew in a slow breath. Something was off. Llora never acknowledged my existence, yet here she was, standing in my shelter, issuing veiled threats.

She was afraid. I could feel it.

Later, I carried on with my day as usual, but I wasn’t the same. A certain wolf lingered in my thoughts, his presence as commanding as it was unexpected.

Would he appear at the stream tonight?

The full moon would rise again tonight.

Its fire would burn through my blood once more, drawing me—dragging me—to the stream, as it always did. This cursed cycle is my life.

But tonight, I’m more concerned about the wolf I healed fourteen nights ago.

Did he survive, as I said he would?

And why, since then, does a strange ache pulse in my chest like a wound I can’t see?

Outside, the sun dimmed, leaving behind footprints of bold gold across the clouds. The twilight cast a soft yellow glow through the small window of my hamlet, warming the worn wooden floor and the bundles of herbs hanging from the beams.

Elise arrived earlier than usual.

Her silver hair, streaked with glowing strands of blue, shimmered under the fading light. She moved with a kind of magic all her own—not the kind passed down through bloodlines, but the innocent kind, the human kind. The kind that the witches of Vaun tried to keep safe. From rogues and the witches like me and yet, she came.

The council must never know she visits me.

She breezed in, wearing a dress as green as summer leaves, her satchel slung low at her waist.

“Sel!” she gushed, startling me from thought.

I watched her settle on the wooden box I used to store my herbs and spices.

“Elise…” I started, but she waved me off with a flick of her hand, like my concern was a mere breeze she could shoo away.

She patted the small pillow she’d placed on the floor in front of her. “Come sit, Sel. Let me braid your hair again.”

I stared at her, unmoving. So carefree, so utterly untouched by fear.

Did she not know what I was?

Had no one warned her what I could do?

I could end her life with a whisper if I wished. My kind had done worse for less.

But Elise never cared. Not when we first met at the stream. Not now.

“Witches don’t harm humans,” she’d always say, tucking wildflowers into my braids. “They protect them.”

Elise…” I tried again, more gently this time, catching her wrist as her fingers combed through my hair.

She looked down at me, her blue eyes soft beneath her lashes.

“The full moon is tonight.”

“Which is exactly why you need to braid your hair!”

She snatched her wrist from my grasp and resumed her work, her fingers deft and familiar. My scalp tingled beneath her touch.

“And which is exactly why you need to go home,” I said softly, trying to make her understand. “I can’t control my powers when the moon rises. I could hurt you.”

She tugged my hair—just enough to make me yelp.

“You’ve been saying that for five years, Selene. And yet, you haven’t even so much as pinched me.”

I sighed. There was no winning with Elise.

“Here.” She passed me a small mirror with a proud smile. “Now you look like a proper lady.”

I tilted the mirror, blinking at my reflection.

She’d parted my hair into four sections, each intentionally styled with her signature flair. The first two braids ran from one side of my head to the other, their ends left loose to curl freely. The other two started at the base of my skull and ended midway up, also untied at the ends. The braids were pinned up, suspended delicately like art in motion.

A few intentional curls framed my face—soft, imperfect, and far too beautiful for someone like me to deserve.

I hadn’t realized the moon had begun to rise. Elise had successfully distracted me, bless her heart. But when my blood started to boil and I felt the restraints within me stretch thin, I knew. Tonight would be no different from every full moon before it.

Elise gasped. “Your eyes!”

I spun around, reaching for the mirror she had handed me only moments ago.

Golden eyes stared back. No longer the silvery blue I had always known. This wasn’t normal. This was dangerous.

“Run home, Elise!” I shouted. The urge was here—the cursed thirst for human blood. Something black pulsed through my veins, ancient and uncontrollable. I backed away from her, heart pounding, trying not to breathe her in.

She didn’t move. Frozen. Shocked. Or was it fear? I couldn’t tell—but I needed her gone. Now.

“Elise…” I begged, my voice breaking. “Please, go home!”

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she finally turned and fled.

Relief washed over me for the briefest second… and then the fire took hold. My body lit up with the moon’s fury. I needed to reach the stream, but I couldn’t pass through the village like this.

Aunt Llora be damned, I thought, and began to cast a spell.