The sun rose over Blackridge, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Selene stood at the kitchen sink, her hands immersed in soapy water as she scrubbed the breakfast dishes. Her mind replayed the scene in the basement from the night before: the eerie glow of the cauldron, symbols etched into the floor that seemed to hum with their own dark power, and Celeste’s piercing glare.
The realization was absurd. Her stepmother, a witch? It was a notion she would have laughed at weeks ago, before the wolf, before Aria. But now, with the wolf stirring within her, the idea felt less far-fetched. Her world had shifted, and nothing seemed impossible anymore.
“Selene!” Celeste’s sharp voice snapped her back to the present.
“Yes?” Selene dried her hands quickly, turning to face her stepmother. C
