Nova sat near the open window of the nursery, River asleep against her chest. The morning air was cool, fragrant with pine and wild mint, but her skin remained tense, waiting. Every rustle outside, every distant howl from the border, made her shoulders twitch.
Since the summoning site was destroyed, the energy around the Crescent Moon grounds hadn’t settled—it had shifted. Subtle and sharp, like a violin string pulled too tight. The witches noticed it too. Rose paced the grounds daily, her boots leaving faint trails of ashen energy, whispering to stones and herbs like they might whisper back.
Nova rocked gently. River let out a sigh in his sleep, then shifted, his fingers twitching like he was dreaming. Please, she thought, brushing his cheek. Let it be a good dream this time.
Sienna ap
