The night pressed down heavy and strange, the air thick with whispers that weren’t quite wind. McKayla stood in the middle of the coven’s outer grounds, her bare feet damp from the dew-soaked grass, her pulse thrumming in her ears. The forest was alive—too alive. Every tree seemed to hum. Every breath of air carried a voice that wasn’t her own.
She’d heard them for days now, faint murmurs that grew louder with each passing hour. But tonight, they had changed. They weren’t just voices anymore—they were words. Words that carried weight. Words that knew her.
“Blood awakens blood… the sisters are one.”
McKayla turned slowly, her golden eyes glowing faintly in the dark. “Who’s there?”
The forest answered with silence—and then a low pulse of power rippled through the air, brushing against he
