Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Tamzyn

T amzyn March had always known that she was different. Born into one of the most powerful covens in the Pacific Northwest, she had been raised with the expectation that one day she would lead them. From a young age, it was clear that she possessed a talent for magic that surpassed even the most seasoned witches in her coven. Her mother, the current High Priestess, had nurtured her gifts, ensuring that Tamzyn received the best training and education the coven could offer.

Life in the coven was structured and disciplined. The witches followed ancient traditions; their magic was governed by strict rules and codes of conduct. Tamzyn excelled in every aspect of her training. She mastered spells and rituals with ease, her innate power shining through in every incantation she performed. The coven elders praised her abilities, often commenting on how she was destined for greatness.

But while Tamzyn excelled in the eyes of her elders, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. The magic she practiced was powerful, yes, but it felt limited, confined within the boundaries set by the coven. She longed for something more, something that would allow her to truly explore the depths of her abilities. It was this longing that led her down a path she had been warned against since childhood—the path of unseen magic.

Unseen magic was a form of power that existed beyond the traditional senses, spells, and rituals practiced by the coven. It was wild, unpredictable, and dangerous. The elders had always warned the younger witches about its risks, telling stories of those who had tried to harness it and lost themselves in the process. But for Tamzyn, the allure of unseen magic was too strong to resist. It called to her, whispering promises of untapped potential and the freedom to explore the full extent of her power.

At first, Tamzyn dabbled in unseen magic in secret. She would sneak away from the coven's gatherings and rituals, retreating to the forest where she could practice without fear of being discovered. She began with small things—simple spells that bent the rules of traditional magic, pushing the boundaries just a little further than usual. The thrill of success was intoxicating, and with each small victory, Tamzyn grew bolder.

She started experimenting with more complex forms of unseen magic, delving into areas that were strictly forbidden by the coven. One of these areas was shapeshifting. It had been outlawed by the coven centuries ago, deemed too dangerous and too tempting for any witch to wield responsibly. But Tamzyn was fascinated by the idea. She imagined what it would be like to take on the form of another creature, to experience the world through different eyes, to blend into her surroundings in a way no one else could.

Tamzyn stood in the heart of the forest, her breath quick and shallow as she prepared herself for what she was about to do. The clearing was eerily silent, the thick canopy of trees blocking out most of the daylight, casting long, sinister shadows across the snow-covered ground. It was the perfect place for what she had in mind—isolated, far from the prying eyes of her coven. But even here, in the deepest part of the woods, she could feel the weight of their judgment, the constant reminder that what she was about to attempt was strictly forbidden.

Her heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of fear and excitement swirling within her as she focused on the task ahead. She had been practicing in secret for months, sneaking away from the coven's watchful eyes to test the limits of her magic. She had always been drawn to the forbidden, to the unseen powers that lurked just beyond the reach of traditional spells. But this—shapeshifting—was the most dangerous thing she had ever attempted.

The coven had strict rules against it, rules that had been in place for centuries. Shapeshifting was considered too dangerous, too volatile. It required a mastery of magic that few possessed, and even those who did were at constant risk of losing themselves to the form they took. Tamzyn knew all of this, had heard the warnings her entire life. But the allure of it was too strong to resist. The idea of transforming, of becoming something other than human, was intoxicating. It was a challenge she couldn't ignore.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. The clearing was deathly quiet; the only sound was the faint rustle of the wind through the trees. Her fingers trembled slightly as she began to chant, her voice barely more than a whisper. The words were ancient, their meaning lost to time, but she had studied them meticulously, memorized every syllable and every inflection. The air around her seemed to thrum with energy as she spoke, the temperature dropping even further as the magic began to take hold.

Tamzyn closed her eyes, focusing all her energy on the transformation into the wolf who called to her in her dreams. She could feel the magic coursing through her veins, a cold, sharp sensation that prickled at her skin. Her body began to change, bones shifting, muscles stretching in ways that were both painful and exhilarating. She gritted her teeth against the pain, forcing herself to continue, to push through the fear that threatened to overwhelm her.

But something was wrong.

As her body began to morph, a cold dread settled in her stomach. The magic felt different this time, more intense, more uncontrollable. Her limbs twisted unnaturally, her skin rippling as fur began to sprout. Panic surged through her as the transformation began to spiral out of control. She tried to focus, to regain control of the magic, but it was too late. The power was too strong, too wild, slipping through her grasp like water through her fingers.

A low growl rumbled in her throat, not her own, but something more primal, more animalistic. She could feel her consciousness fading, her thoughts becoming jumbled, disconnected. The beast within her was taking over, and she was powerless to stop it.

In the midst of her panic, Tamzyn's senses sharpened. She heard a twig snap behind her, the sound impossibly loud in the stillness of the clearing. Her head whipped around, her vision blurring as the last vestiges of her human form struggled to hold on. Through the haze of her transformation, she saw a figure standing at the edge of the clearing, eyes wide with shock and horror.

It was Aileen, one of the younger members of the coven, a girl barely out of her teens. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with fear as she took in the scene before her. Tamzyn felt a jolt of terror as their eyes met, the realization of what this meant crashing down on her like a ton of bricks. Aileen had seen her—seen what she was doing, what she had become. There would be no hiding it now.

Before Tamzyn could react, Aileen turned and bolted, her footsteps crunching through the snow as she fled back toward the coven. Tamzyn tried to call out, to stop her, but all that came from her throat was a garbled snarl, half-human, half-beast. The sight of Aileen's retreating figure sent a fresh wave of panic through her, snapping her back to the present.

She had to stop this. She had to regain control before it was too late.

With every ounce of willpower she possessed, Tamzyn focused on reversing the transformation. The pain was excruciating, like her body was being torn apart from the inside, but she forced herself to push through it. Slowly, agonizingly, her bones began to shift back, the fur receding, her claws retracting into fingers. She collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath, her body trembling with the effort.

When she finally looked up, Aileen was gone, the clearing empty save for the lingering echo of her own ragged breaths. The realization of what had just happened hit Tamzyn like a physical blow. Aileen had seen everything. She would go straight to the elders, tell them what she had witnessed. Tamzyn knew what would come next—trial, judgment, punishment.

She had broken the most sacred rule of the coven, and there would be no forgiveness. They would banish her, might even strip her of her magic—casting her out into the world alone and defenseless. But wasn't all of that part of being a good leader? Shouldn't she try to take the coven in a new, more powerful direction?

A shiver ran down her spine, though whether from the cold or fear, she couldn't tell. She forced herself to stand, her legs weak and unsteady. She had to get out of here, had to figure out what to do next. There was no time to think, only to act. If she could get to the coven before Aileen, maybe—just maybe—she could explain or perhaps beg for mercy. But she knew her mother and those she led; there would be no understanding or forgiveness.

The forest seemed to close in around her, the trees looming like dark sentinels, their branches clawing at the sky. The shadows grew longer, the daylight fading as if the forest itself was conspiring to swallow her whole. She increased her pace. This didn't feel safe or right.

It felt as if no time had passed before the shadows themselves descended on her in a flash, their magic binding her in place before she could even think to flee. The elders were furious, their eyes blazing with a mixture of anger and disappointment. Tamzyn had never seen them like this before, and for the first time, she felt a flicker of fear in her heart.

"What have you done, Tamzyn?" one of the elders demanded, her voice trembling with rage.

"How could you?" asked another disdainfully.

Tamzyn tried to speak, to explain herself, but the words caught in her throat.

The elders dragged her back to their quaint village that clung to the rocky shores of the coast, their silence and disappointment weighing heavily in the air. They didn't need to tell her what was coming—Tamzyn knew the consequences of her actions. She had broken the most sacred laws of the coven, and for that, she would have to face their judgment.

The trial was held the next morning in the heart of the coven's sacred circle. The entire coven gathered to witness it, their faces a mixture of shock, anger, and sadness. Tamzyn stood in the center of the circle; her head held high, but inside, she was trembling. She had always been confident, and always believed in her own strength, but now she felt small, vulnerable, and alone.

The High Priestess, Tamzyn's own mother, presided over the trial. Her face was a mask of stoic calm, but Tamzyn could see the pain in her eyes. It hurt more than anything else to see that pain, to know that she had disappointed the woman who had raised her, who had believed in her more than anyone else. But while her mother had bowed to the will of the elders and was prepared to banish Tamzyn from her home, her mother had left her magic intact with a warning not to use it, lest it be taken away forever. All because of her reckless curiosity, her desire to push the boundaries of what was allowed.

"Tamzyn," her mother began, her voice steady but heavy with emotion. "You have been accused of practicing unseen magic, of attempting to shapeshift, both of which are strictly forbidden by our coven. Do you deny these charges?"

Tamzyn shook her head, unable to speak. There was no point in lying, no point in trying to defend herself. She had made her choices, and now she would have to face the consequences.

"Then you understand the gravity of your actions," her mother, the High Priestess, continued. "Unseen magic is dangerous, unpredictable, and has the potential to corrupt even the most powerful of us. By practicing it, you have not only put yourself at risk, but you have also endangered the entire coven."

Tamzyn closed her eyes, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. She had known this was coming, but it didn't make it any easier to hear. She had never intended to harm anyone, but her desire for more—more power, more knowledge—had blinded her to the risks.

The elders deliberated for what felt like hours, though in reality, it was only a few minutes. When they returned, their faces were grave; their decision had already been made.

"Tamzyn," her mother intoned, her voice heavy with sorrow. "You are hereby banished from this coven. You are no longer one of us, and you are forbidden from practicing magic. If you are found to have used your powers, they will be stripped from you forever. You must leave immediately and never return."

The words hit Tamzyn like a physical blow, knocking the air from her lungs. Banishment was the absolute worst punishment a witch could receive. It meant being cut off from the coven, from the community, from the very source of her magic. It was a fate worse than death, and for a moment, Tamzyn felt as if her world had crumbled around her.

But she didn't argue, didn't beg for mercy. She knew it would do no good. Instead, she nodded, her head held high and turned to leave. The crowd parted for her, their eyes filled with a mixture of pity and contempt. Tamzyn ignored them, her mind already racing ahead to what she would do next, where she would go. She had been cast out, but she wasn't broken. She would find a way to survive, to rebuild her life, even if it meant leaving everything she had ever known behind.

The journey to the Alaska Peninsula was not easy. She had chosen the town of Silver Ridge along the coast for its growing community and proximity to several shifter towns, villages, and compounds. It was rumored that the sheriff was also the beta to a local wolf-shifter pack. Tamzyn's hope was that by becoming part of the community, she could learn and study those who shifted. In addition, its remoteness, wildness, and the promise of a fresh start called to her. No one here knew her. No one knew she was a witch or that she had been banished. She had arrived with little more than the clothes on her back and a small pouch of herbs, but she hadn't let that deter her.

Over the next few months, Tamzyn began to carve out a new life for herself. She found a small cottage on the edge of town, nestled between the forest and the sea. It was far from the luxurious life she had known in the coven, but it was hers, and that was enough. She spent her days exploring the wilderness, gathering herbs, and learning the ways of the land. Her nights were spent studying, experimenting with the magic she still possessed, though she was careful to avoid anything that might draw attention.

In time, Tamzyn opened a small herbalist shop in town. It was modest, but she quickly gained a reputation for the quality of her remedies. The townspeople came to her with their ailments and their worries, and she provided them with cures, advice, drinks, and snacks, all while keeping her true nature hidden. She became a fixture in the community known as the quiet, mysterious woman who lived on the edge of town, but few knew the truth of her past.

Despite the peace she had found in Silver Ridge, there was always a part of Tamzyn that longed for what she had lost. She missed the coven, the sense of belonging, the camaraderie of her fellow witches. Little by little, the burden of her banishment became easier to bear. She had been cast out, yes, but she had also been freed. Freed from the constraints of the coven, freed to explore her magic in ways she never could have before.