The Nighshade Chronicles: Book 1 - The Alpha Witch

Chapter 3: The Disturbance -Zaya

I couldn’t leave the Sovereign house fast enough. I didn’t even wait for my sisters. I needed to be alone. I needed to check my braid. I could feel it: the unmistakable tingle—that specific, spiritual static—that usually signals a soul is being born.

But my worry was that there were no souls-in-waiting at the Nightshade Coven. This tingle wasn't anticipated, which could only mean one thing: the disturbance was back. The strange, blue-steel anomalies in my hair were changing. Or expanding.

I pushed through the door to my room, locking it with a sharp click I rarely used. I rushed to the full-length mirror and, with shaking hands, carefully undid the section of hair hiding the problem braid.

I gasped at the frightening reality. It hadn’t just grown darker—much darker, brilliant steel blue but another, lighter blue micro-braid was forming in a completely different location. Why was this happening to me?

"Girl, why did you rush off so fast?" Mila yelled from behind the door, her voice muffled but distinct. "Wait... since when do we lock doors?" she exclaimed, trying the handle.

"Hold on, I’ll open it in a second," I yelled back quickly. I didn't have time to process this new development. I quickly rebraided the section, carefully tucking the curious blue-steel braids back beneath the standard purple and white ones that marked my lineage.

"You best have a reason for locking the door," Mila continued from the other side. "I mean, you do you, girl, but if it had been Selah, or worse, the High Priestess... that would have been regretful."

"I know, I know. I just needed a minute after that meeting," I yelled as I finished securing the last tie. It wasn't a lie. The meeting had been suffocating.

I took a deep, centering breath, unlocked the door, and opened it. "Ok. Hey, Mila."

I was breathlessly opening the door to my best friend and little sister. Mila was only ten months younger than me, and we had grown up like twins, but we couldn’t be more different. While I was a gifted Void Walker—the rarest of gifts in our coven—Mila lived up to our last name and was exceptionally gifted in all things poison. She could practically kill with a touch. Or a look.

The curious fact is that none of those deadly poisons affect her. We found that out the hard way when she "accidentally" drank the most deadly potion the High Priestess could concoct, thinking it was rose water. Since then, she randomly tests new potions on herself to see if she can withstand them. She calls it her "secret weapon." Selah and I just call it "reckless." Mom calls it dedication, I mean High Priestess.

"So... what do you think of the meeting today?" Mila questioned, pushing past me into the room. "Are you ready to dive into the supernatural dating pool?"

"Ugh. Seriously, can anything be like my choice? Ever?" I collapsed back onto my bed. "I bet even if I find my 'fated mate,' Mom would find some way to take control of it. And the fact that I have to go to some stupid Academy to find this mate is even more annoying. All she says is how it’s my 'duty' and to 'make the right choice.' But under it all is the expectation that if the choice isn't what she wants, she will override it."

"Seriously, V, what can she do?"

"It's Mom." That single statement said everything.

"If the mate is chosen, yes, Mother can make a stink," Selah responded, her calm voice preceding her into the room. "But if it is fated, it is dangerous and against code to interfere. You know this. So just hope your mate is fated."

Mila nodded, then Selah added, "Furthermore, you shouldn’t be talking so openly without The Silent Seal of Void-Sovereignty spell to keep out prying ears. Do you want to spend the week training the first years? How did that go last time?"

Mila cautiously felt the back of her head, where a section of hair still hasn’t grown back from when the first years cursed her six months ago. Selah and I looked at each other and broke out into laughter. The thought of training them again was terrifying.

Selah immediately went into preparation mode, pulling out four Acoustic Quartz from the spell bag she always carries and placing them in the corners of the room. She was right—we needed the security. I grabbed my bottle of Violet Nectar from the curio cabinet in my spell corner, and we gathered at the room’s core.

The three of us centered ourselves, holding hands to envision the Mother-Root’s hum. Instead of sinking into it like we do in the morning ritual, we mentally drew it tight, making the boundary rigid. I dropped a single drop of Violet Nectar onto the mental sigil I drew on my palm, the outline of which began to glow slightly in preparation. Then, in perfect harmony, we pushed the energy outward from the room's center—north, east, south, then west—until it "adhered" to the walls.

Once the energy was moved, we began the final seal chant: "Root to Stone, Void to Bone. This space belongs to the Silent Throne."

We chanted until the faint, split-second shimmering of amethyst light finished tracing the room's perimeter. We remained still for a second, anchoring ourselves to the absolute, perfect silence that remained. The Mother-Root’s hum was gone. All sound was swallowed.

Mila spoke first, her voice sounding oddly flat without echo. "No matter how often we do this, the silence and the way the energy shifts is almost unnerving."

"I don’t know. I find it calming," I sighed, moving to reclaim my spot on the bed. "It’s one of the few times I actually feel... in control."

"Now, about this mate thing," Selah said, always all business, drawing everyone back to the problem at hand.

"I know, I know. Find my fated, don’t accept anything else. Find them fast, before she finds a 'suitable powerful match' she can push on me. Got it." We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the requirement pressing down on me. Finally, I voiced the thought that had been haunting me. "Do you two ever feel pressured? I mean... I know you are second and third in line, and both have your own very important roles. But, like... does Mom make you feel like the coven’s survival is on you?"

"Not really," Mila laughed, stretching. "I just have to make poison and not die. Easy peasy."

"Not helping, Mil." Selah snapped, though there was no malice in it. She turned to me. "Z, listen. We all have our pressures. Yes, yours is harder because you are our future High Priestess. But just know that whatever happens, we have your back."

We hugged, the perfect silence of the room briefly emphasizing our closeness.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

The border alarm blared, its energy so intense it vibrated through the silent room even if we couldn't hear it with our ears. We broke the hug instantly, the moment of comfort vanishing. We hurried to the center of the room and began the release chant:

"Bound no more. Fetter and Chain. Return to the Void. Yield to the Pain. I command the severance. The knot is undone. The magic is broken. We are One."

The amethyst light flashed once and died. Selah gathers the quartz, while Mila and I race to the Sovereign house, ahead of the chaos. We burst in.

"Mom, what’s going on?"

"Za - ya." She chastises me instantly. Lineage before crisis. Always.

"Sorry, High Priestess Iris. What seems to be the issue? How may we serve you?" Mila, Selah, and I say in perfect, practiced unison.

"Look. A mangy creature is too close to our borders." She points to the guarded windows, which function as scrying mirrors for the boundary.

I peer closely into the glass, looking for the intruder. I gasp as I see a massive wolf—larger than I have ever seen. His fur is a striking dark caramel, but my breath catches as I spot the unmistakable steel-blue highlights that seem to shine in the mystical light of the marsh.

His eyes are a deep emerald that scan the terrain with curiosity and unmistakable intelligence. He prowls the area with caution, looking for any signs of danger. I can feel the tingle in my braid begin to thrum in rhythm with the border alarm. This is the disturbance. He is the disturbance.