Chapter 1

Ten years Ago…

16-year-old Nova was fated to come into her powers during the winter solstice. The day of the Sun's rebirth holds strong spiritual energy that the elders of the coven called upon to guide her magical spirit to awaken. The initiation ceremony took place at her family's cottage.

Each member of the coven brought an offering for the goddess. They threw everything from herbs to personal tokens into the fire. The flames danced and changed color in acceptance.

"Praise be," their voices lifted in unison.

When it was Nova's turn, her sacrifice could only be made in blood. A ritual dagger was drawn across her palm. She flinched but didn't make a pained sound. She tightened her fist and watched the blood drip between her fingers and into the fire. The logs hissed as the heat caused the droplets to fizzle.

The flame turned green, indicating she was a kitchen witch. Her purpose was to channel her magical energy and manifest it in her sacred kitchen. Her spell crafting would be through herbs and tinctures, serving the coven through food and cooking.

"She will be blessed with abundance and wealth," a warlock said.

"Rejoice for luck has been granted to our coven!" A witch exclaimed.

A hearth witch held a renowned position, as this witch was seen as the heart of the coven. The strongest witch or warlock was the leader. Nova's father would hold this role until the next leader emerged from their group. The fires would reveal the next leader when the time was right.

Geralt's powers would weaken as the next leader grew stronger, as is the design, much like an alpha losing their strength. He would retire and live as a respected elder for the remainder of his days.

The fire suddenly flamed crimson. Gasps and exclamations rang out around the fire. Red flame sparked her passion and opened her empathic abilities.

"Two gifts!"

"The Goddess has blessed her. Let us give thanks."

"Not surprising from our leader's daughter. Praise be."

The flame developed a blue hue. A wealth of wisdom was suddenly open to her as her third eye opened. Her body trembled in tune with the earth's vibrations.

A robust black flame flared to cleanse negative energy from the coven. Enlightenment would be theirs, thanks to Nova. She would bring stability and protection to the group.

"Is she the new leader of the coven?"

"That's impossible."

"You've seen the flames!"

"She will be the strongest witch among us."

Several other colors flickered before the flames died down. So many things changed about Nova, yet she remained the same.

Nova's palm tingled. She unclenched her fist and stared wide-eyed as the wound knitted closed before her eyes. It was utterly smooth as she stroked her thumb across it as though the cut never happened. She wiped the dried blood on her smock.

A tall man in his mid-thirties stepped forward. The coven leader wore his dark, shaggy hair around his shoulders. The firelight enveloped their leader, plunging him into a spotlight. He raised his hands and spoke with pride.

"Thank the Horned God and the Goddess for bestowing these gifts unto our daughter as she has been welcomed into our coven. I will proudly call her the next leader if the fates have decreed it, so mote it be!"

"So mote it be," echoed the smiling, sandy-blonde petite woman who stood a step behind him to his right.

The remainder of the coven echoed the sentiment before the festivities resumed. The celebration of the longest night lasted until dawn.

Exhausted, Nova fell asleep the moment her head touched her pillow. Magic imbued her body, melding into every cell as she slept. Control would come later.

Ramsey, who went by Ash, didn't know Nova was a witch. There was no reason to reveal her family's secret before she'd been gifted her powers. But now she was excited to share her news with him.

A few days later, Ash joined her family for Yule dinner. Notes of cinnamon and orange filled the air as a traditional yule log burned in the hearth. Instead of hanging mistletoe, Nova made a witch ball from a clear glass ornament. She filled it with spell ingredients while whispering her intentions for the upcoming year before hanging it in the window.

The young lovers traded simpering looks across the dining room table. Nova planned to surprise Ash with her secret while her gift sat unopened in the living room.

Nova's father, Mr. Wardle, cleared his throat. "I think it's time to discuss your intentions with our daughter, young man."

"Dad!" Nova groaned, looking at her father scandalized.

Nova's parents had dated as teens themselves. They married right out of high school, and she came along shortly after.

The man sat at the head of the table. Nova's kind father adopted an overly stern expression. The lines across his forehead deepened as his eyes became icy.

"Geralt," Sophie cautioned. "Let the children be. Can't you see the magic love has woven between them?"

Geralt met his wife's eyes and relented. He shook his head, causing his shoulder-length dark-brown hair that hadn't begun to gray. Sophie reached her hand across the table, and her husband took it and brought it to his lips.

Nova smiled at her parents. Their affection for each other showed her the kind of relationship she longed to have.

"Just remember that I can turn you into a toad if you hurt my little girl."

Nova smiled as Ash swallowed, unnerved for a moment. Of course, there was no power to transform humans into toads. There were plenty of stereotypes thrown around regarding witches and magic. However, for a father to his young daughter's suitor, it was satisfying to cause the young man to squirm a little.

"Understand, sir. I assure you that I care deeply for your daughter. I have no desire to hurt her."

"Good man," Geralt said. "Then I offer my blessings for your relationship. May you continue to grow a strong foundation and appreciation for one another. May your goals for the future align."

Nova beamed. She looked from her father to her mother.

"I offer my blessings for your relationship. May you find strength in one another to overcome every adversity. May empathy open your heart to be each other's rock."

Warmth bloomed in Nova's chest as she turned to Ash. He held his hand out to her, and she placed her palm in his, wearing a matching grin. After a quick squeeze, Nova jumped up from the table.

"Thank you, Mom." She threw her arms around her mother before turning to her father. "Thank you, dad."

"Just remember one thing," he said solemnly. "You cannot fight fate."

"We love you, Nova," her mother said.

A solemn silence settled over the table, replacing Nova's elation moments before. Though her parents had smiled, Nova saw the shine in her mother's green eyes. She felt the wave of sorrow pass between them. She felt it in her own heart. Her mother had the gift of foresight, and tragedy would befall the lovers, drowning Nova in heartbreak.

Fate—divine destiny—the interwoven tapestry was about to unravel in a way that would tear Nova apart.

The Wardles and Hayes families came from very different backgrounds. The Hayes family's wealth went back generations. Historically, his family had been witch hunters. The last witch hunt was in the late 19th century.

Sanford Hayes rounded up a coven and executed three witches and a warlock. Those executed were caught celebrating the solstice.

"Your savior was a warlock," one of the witches cried.

"Blasphemy! Heresy!" the townsfolk decreed. "Our savior performed miracles. You worship the devil and belong in hell."

"He performed miracles using magic. There is no devil in our craft. You are committing a grievous sin in the name of your god. If my death shall promote peace among us, so mote it be," the warlock told his executioner.

After that event, Nova's great-great-grandfather, Alton Wardle, gathered the remaining families and established their protected community. At the time, Nova's great-great-grandmother was the enchantress as the head of their coven.

Stereotypes and common misconceptions follow those who practice the craft today that it's somehow evil and sordid. They didn't dance around bonfires naked, sacrifice firstborn babies, or any other nonsense. There was no devil in the craft. Some witches and warlocks practiced dark magic, but they were strictly light.