Stephanie awoke to the sound of crackling wood and the smell of something herbal—lavender, maybe, or sage. Her head throbbed, and when she opened her eyes, the dim light of a fire greeted her.

  She wasn’t in her car anymore. She was lying on a worn but soft couch in what appeared to be a cabin. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and dried herbs hung from the ceiling in neat bundles.

  "You’re awake."

  Stephanie turned her head, wincing at the ache in her neck. The woman from the church was sitting in a chair nearby, her arms crossed as she regarded Stephanie with a mix of curiosity and caution.

  "Where am I?" Stephanie croaked, her throat dry.

  "My home," the woman said simply. "You passed out in the churchyard. I brought you here before someone else found you."

  Stephanie sat up slowly, her body protesting every movement. "Why? Why didn’t you just leave me there?"

  The woman’s lips quirked in a humorless smile. "Because whether you like it or not, you’re dangerous. You’re a witch, Stephanie, and until you learn to control your power, you’re a danger to yourself and everyone around you."

  Stephanie stared at her, the word witch echoing in her mind like a drumbeat.

  "I don’t believe you," she said weakly.

  The woman leaned forward, her expression unreadable. "You will. And if you want answers about what happened to Madi, about who you really are, you’ll listen to me.”

  Stephanie’s phone buzzed violently from where it sat on the small table beside the couch. She flinched, the sound startling in the otherwise quiet cabin. She glanced at the screen, the brightness piercing her still-groggy eyes.

  15 missed calls: Nate.

  Her heart sank. She knew he’d be worried—it wasn’t like her to just vanish—but guilt clawed at her chest as she saw the barrage of messages flood in.

  Alaric: Where are you?

  Alaric: Call me now.

  Alaric: Are you okay? I swear to God, Steph, if you don’t answer me—

  Alaric: Seriously. I’m coming to find you.

  Stephanie sighed, running a hand through her tangled hair. Her thumb hovered over the "Call Back" button, but she hesitated. What would she even say? Hey, Alaric, I just found out I’m maybe a witch, Madi was secretly investigating me, and oh, by the way, I passed out outside a haunted church and woke up in some stranger’s cabin?

  "Your brother, I assume?" the woman asked, her voice breaking the silence.

  Stephanie looked up sharply, clutching the phone closer. "How do you—?"

  "You were muttering his name when you were unconscious," the woman said casually, leaning back in her chair. "You should tell him you’re alive, at least. He’s worried."

  Stephanie scowled, not appreciating the advice from someone she didn’t trust. "You don’t get to tell me what to do."

  The woman arched an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on her lips. "Suit yourself."

  Ignoring her, Stephanie shot a quick text to Nate.

  Stephanie: I’m okay. Don’t freak out. Just needed space. I’ll be home soon.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  The message felt flimsy, but it was all she could manage. She shoved the phone into her hoodie pocket and turned her attention back to the woman.

  "Alright," Stephanie said, her voice steadier now. "Who are you? Why did you bring me here, and why should I believe anything you’re saying about me?"

  The woman stood, crossing the room to the fire. She stirred the embers with a long iron poker, the flames casting dancing shadows across the cabin walls. "My name is Elara," she said finally. "And I brought you here because leaving you there would’ve been reckless."

  "Reckless how?" Stephanie pressed.

  Elara turned to face her, her expression unreadable. "Because the world isn’t as simple as you think it is, Stephanie. There are those who would kill you on sight for what you are. The Circle of Ash, for one. They’re relentless, and they don’t care if you didn’t know what you were. They only care that you exist."

  Stephanie’s stomach twisted at the mention of the Circle of Ash. "But why not just kill me yourself, then?" she challenged. "You’re saying I’m dangerous. Wouldn’t that solve the problem?"

  Elara’s smirk returned, but it was colder this time. "I don’t kill children."

  "I’m not a child," Stephanie snapped.

  "You are," Elara countered, her voice sharp. "At least, in the ways that matter. You’ve barely scratched the surface of what you are, what you can do. Killing you wouldn’t solve anything—it would only waste potential. And besides..." She hesitated, her eyes softening slightly. "I owe your family more than that."

  Stephanie’s heart skipped. "My family? What do you mean?"

  Elara’s lips pressed into a thin line, as though she regretted letting that slip. "Your parents," she said finally. "They were…like you."

  Stephanie froze, her mind spinning. Her parents? She barely remembered them—just fragments of laughter and warmth before they were gone. Anytime she’d asked Nate about them, he’d shut her down with some vague answer about an accident.

  "You’re lying," Stephanie said, though her voice wavered.

  Elara’s gaze hardened. "I don’t have time to lie, girl. Your parents were witches, powerful ones, and they paid the price for it. The Circle of Ash has been after your bloodline for years."

  Stephanie slumped back onto the couch, her mind spinning. Elara’s words echoed in her head, refusing to let her find any kind of calm.

  "If my parents were witches," she started hesitantly, "and this…Circle of Ash has been after my family, then why am I still alive? Why didn’t they come for me sooner?"

  Elara’s gaze was steady, though a shadow of something like regret flickered in her eyes. "Your brother, Alaric, kept you hidden. He’s done a good job, considering the circumstances. But your powers were always going to surface eventually. That’s why Madi’s death wasn’t a coincidence."

  Stephanie flinched at the mention of her friend’s name. "What do you mean?"

  Elara sighed, moving to one of the bookshelves and pulling down a heavy, leather-bound tome. She flipped it open, the pages brittle and yellowed with age. "When someone with your kind of potential starts to awaken, it causes…ripples. Energy shifts. Those sensitive to it—like the Circle—can sense it. Madi likely started noticing these things before even you did, and once she suspected what you were, she became desperate to prove it."

  Stephanie’s stomach churned. "But she didn’t hate me," she whispered. "She…she was my best friend."

  Elara looked up from the book, her expression grim. "Fear doesn’t leave much room for love, Stephanie. She may have cared about you, but she was also afraid of you. And that fear made her dangerous."

  Stephanie clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. "If she was afraid of me, why didn’t she just confront me? Why go behind my back?"

  "Because she didn’t know how far you’d come into your power," Elara said. "She was trying to protect herself. And maybe…" She hesitated, her gaze softening. "Maybe part of her was trying to protect you, too."

  The weight of it all pressed down on Stephanie’s chest, making it hard to breathe. She thought of all the times Madi had looked at her with something she’d assumed was worry or concern. The little comments about how "weird things" happened when Stephanie was around. The way Madi had started keeping her distance in the weeks before her death.

  "I didn’t want this," Stephanie said finally, her voice barely more than a whisper.

  "No one ever does," Elara replied.

  Stephanie stared at the flickering fire, its warm light doing little to chase away the cold in her chest. "You said I need to learn to control this. How? Are you going to teach me?"

  Elara hesitated, then nodded. "If you’re willing to learn. But it won’t be easy. Magic isn’t just some parlor trick—it’s dangerous. And if you’re not careful, it will consume you."

  Stephanie swallowed hard, her hands trembling. "And if I don’t learn?"

  Elara’s expression turned grim. "Then the Circle of Ash won’t have to kill you. Your own power will do it for them."

  The silence that followed was suffocating. Stephanie’s phone buzzed again in her pocket, but she ignored it.

  "Where do we start?" she asked finally, her voice shaking but resolute.

  Elara nodded, a flicker of approval in her gaze. "Follow me."