Moon Bound

Prologue

1870

The afternoon sun shines bright and hot on the witches’ camp. Its rays often encourage lengthier searches for herbs and a general contented feeling amongst the witches, but today it only overlooks the breaking of a coven, while casting shadows over the future.

From Caroline’s arms, the baby’s shrill cry of impatience breaks through the heated and hateful glares she is receiving from the coven’s leader.

“He’s just a baby,” Caroline pleads, shifting him in her arms, hoping the child’s face will serve as a visual reminder of his innocence. “He’s harmless.” If it wasn’t for the child in her arms, she’d be rubbing at the cramp in her neck. Instead, her teeth clench together, casting sparks of pain through her jaw, and she fights to remain still under the scrutiny of her friends and family.

As if to enforce her words, the child’s wails die down, his gaze settling upon the onlookers in front of him.

“He’s an abomination,” Josephine, their leader, hisses, her teeth bared. Hands fist by her side, glowing blue with magic. “What were you thinking when you took a shifter to be your consort?”

Caroline’s lips flatten, her pleading gaze dropping into one of determination. Her chin lifts, and the ticking in her jaw settles until it stiffens. “I love him. The pack isn’t bad like you’ve claimed.”

Her words blast Josephine in the worst way possible, and their leader trembles, her own face contorting into an ugly expression—something Caroline has never seen. Genuine anger. The look of betrayal. Her nostrils flare, eyes narrow, and the muscles in her cheek tick. The glow in her palms darken, and witches behind her shift in anticipation—or concern.

“How many witches have they killed, hmm?” Josephine sneers. “Or have you forgotten what their kind truly is?”

Resolve falls onto Caroline’s face and she glances at the coven around her. The witches either avoid her gaze, in preference for examining the ground at their feet, or seem angry, exactly like their leader. There’s no one on her side; no one who will help her. Her eyes drop to her son, using the appearance of his baby soft round cheeks and lids shut behind bright, blue eyes—her own eyes—to fuel her determination further. Her child needs this coven.

“He is my son,” Caroline continues, her voice low and pleading. “Therefore, he is still a member of this coven. He deserves to be here.” She drags her gaze away, up toward Josephine once more. Her brows lift as she recalls the precise thing Josephine regularly complains about, using it to her advantage. “You said so yourself—there needs to be more male witches. I have one right here.”

The glow in Josephine’s hands lessen and Caroline knows she’s finally gaining ground.

“He is half-witch,” she adds, infusing more reason into the situation. “Teach him magic.”

Silence consumes the circle as everyone bides their breath for Josephine’s decision. Tension prickles through the coven, but especially in Caroline, whose stiff muscles hold onto the small fragment of hope he is accepted.

When the magic in Josephine’s hands completely dulls, she knows it has. The leader sighs, resigned, and her shoulders sag with the weight of the decision she’s made. With the war that’s likely going to come from this when the child’s father attacks.

“Fine. We will raise him and teach him of our ways. But,” she continues, not pausing, “you are banished from this coven for consorting with another species.”

The observing coven murmurs, but their surprise is dulled in Caroline’s ears. Her muscles turn slack, her arms threatening to fall, but she remembers to hold onto her child. “You are banished.” The words circle in her head, but don’t settle. They mean nothing to her. Banished… Yet they mean everything. Everything she knows—her family, her friends, her link to magic, and the Goddess… all gone.

“Wh-what? Y-you can’t. I am his mother. I need to be here, to care for him. Josephine—” she steps forward, plea heavy in her tone “—you can’t do this. I’m a part of this coven.” She doesn’t even try to resist her body from quivering, her voice from shaking with her pleas.

Josephine’s head shakes, fighting to keep her own mask of dismay in place. “I’m sorry, Caroline, but you broke our rules. Your actions have consequences. Consequences, I assure you, will not affect the child.” Josephine pauses, knowing she speaks the whole truth right now. “Your son will not be treated any differently than one of our own. Your error in judgement will not be reflected upon him, but you will be unable to see him. By sundown, be gone from this coven and do not return or else I will have no other choice but to kill you on sight.”

The elder witch’s hand waves, motioning to a nearby coven member and gesturing toward the child. “Take him.”

Caroline’s arms tighten around her son, hopeless tears streaming down her cheeks as she fights for breath through the pressure forming in her chest. Her heartbeat slows, the feeling of death creeping up; she’s not dying, but knowing she’ll have to leave her son forever, she might as well be.

But it’s for the best. He should be raised amongst his own kind and not in banishment with her. She leans down, pressing a gentle kiss upon his forehead. Her tears drip onto his skin, staining him with the only parts of her he’ll ever know, before handing him off to the waiting witch. Her eyes jerk away, unable to witness him be taken away as her heart cracks with every step the woman takes with her baby, her blood.

For the best, she reminds herself.

To Josephine, Caroline says, “The moon may call upon him. You need to let nature occur.”

Josephine’s eyes are shadowed, unwillingness heavy in them when she says, “Fine. If the Goddess wills it, I’ll allow it.” Then she stalks away, not looking back.

Her leave commands the rest and the coven follow behind, some with passive expressions and others sending Caroline sad smiles. A coven’s safety is always priority, and their mixed expressions are indicative of what this decision will mean for them too, not just Caroline and her son.

Caroline lowers her eyes, unable to watch her son leave with them. When the clearing is empty, Caroline exits too, heavy limbs taking her away from the only life she’s ever known.

Present

From the edge of the sand, Mary regards the darkening ocean. Alec’s castle looms in the shadows and nestled inside is Alec and Harlow, her first task. Harlow is now trained in the art of immortality, having learned quickly, after only a few short months. She’s also proficient in the art of fire, and getting better at the other elements as well. Alec’s life changed in ways he never wanted, but it’ll be better for him.

I prefer my fire, she had said earlier that day. As Mary knew she would.

A vampire and a witch…the most unlikely duo, but one that will one day—

Good job, child. You did well.

“It will be an interesting millennium.” The same thought she had centuries ago. “I did not tell them what their future holds.” Flashes of Alec and Harlow fill her mind. “They will do great things for both species, but the witches especially. Having such a combination will prove to be valuable.”

A soft breeze brushes her. A thank you.

Your second task is ready for you.

The waves in front of her still, creating placid water, and an image appears in front of her: a witch and a shifter, locked in an embrace.

“And so it continues.”

She transports away, situating herself into the life of the next pairing.