“I need you to make it snow.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
I’ve never been to a Witch’s Ascension before. Maribel was ordained head of the MA nearly thirty years ago — way before I was born. Being a First is like being a pope or a queen; they can’t be replaced unless they step down or die.
A wild shiver overtakes my body, whether from the compulsion, the fear, or the ice still clinging to me from the prince’s touch. All I know is that the voice inside my head is compelling me to the HQ roof and then the base of the aisle. I’m nothing but a puppet with invisible strings.
All the balustrades on the rooftop have been adorned with garlands of lilac orchids and white peonies, which are slowly entwining, blooming, and closing by magic. It reminds me of the night before last and the few hours of bliss Luisa and I had together. I haven’t been able to talk to her yet, although I’ve seen all her worried texts.
I brush icicles from the strap of my dress, so my mother won’t see. The train is stained grey from running through the city streets, so I tuck that under too.
The view to my left is stunning. Barcelona, which a few moments ago was bathed in vivid hues of lilac and orange, has now turned a muted indigo. We’re just a few minutes away from the full moon making her grand appearance. This would be beautiful and serene if my blood wasn’t made of pure terror.
The guests take their seats, all of them dressed in various shades of purple.
My mother, as the star of the show, is standing at the top of the stairs in a perfectly cut white velvet pantsuit. She greets each guest with Salvador by her side who is looking...solemn? He whispers to her, but she ignores him.
Beatriz leaves her father’s side and heads to the seating area. Her outfit breaks all MA high-society protocol. She’s in black, the color of mourning in the Shifter world. Her skirt is long and flowing, but her stockings and sleeves are slashed with intricate latticework, and her top far too revealing for any formal event.
Guests are staring at her but she ignores them. She’s making a point. She wants everyone here to know she’s grieving for Xavi, and she doesn’t give a fuck what they think.
I didn’t have her down for being this brave, but I like it.
Her eyes widen as she takes me in standing by the aisle, dressed in an elaborate white gown. I guess that makes two of us. Her face blanches further when she notes that the roof’s aviary is full of messenger crows again. Beatriz loved those birds, but to the MA they are nothing but communication devices.
Her jaw sets hard, but neither of us says anything.
Silently she walks to the front of the congregation and takes her seat just as Luisa materializes before me.
“You haven’t returned my calls,” she says, then looks at my outfit. “Que fas? Why are you in white?”
My eyes glaze over with tears, but I’m rendered speechless. I can feel my mother’s gaze hot on my skin, her infernal pull inching me forward.
“I want to Ascend.”
“Mentidera! No, you fucking don’t.” Luisa’s fists are balled at her side as she glances back at my mother. “We haven’t known one another for that long, Saskia, but I do know being Second to your mother is the last thing you want.”
Solina glides past us, ignoring the desperate plea in my eye. She smiles at the guests as she walks down the aisle towards the altar, taking her place at the front. That’s my cue. It’s time to start the show.
“Saskia,” Luisa hisses, gripping my wrist. “Tell me. What’s Solina got on you?”
Normally, Luisa would be able to feel my terror through her touch, my hesitation, but my mother’s magic is a mummifying balm around my heart. It’s masking every shred of my true feelings.
“I want to Ascend. You don’t know me that well. Please, move.”
Her eyes are glistening, her fists pulled tighter like she wants to fight me out of wanting this. I wish she would. I wish she would punch me and make this pain recede.
Rafi appears behind her. “People are staring,” he says, pulling at her arm. “Venga, cariño. Saskia is free to choose, remember?”
She blinks and looks down, letting Rafi lead her away.
No. No. No. Please don’t give up on me!
The compulsion squeezes. Somewhere classical music begins to play. I can’t see any string quartet or flying violins. The music is coming out of the flowers which are acting like speakers, each bloom radiating a different musical note.
With a deep breath, like a sacrificial bride, I walk down the aisle towards my mother and take my place beside her — where she wants me to be forevermore.
The guests are seated in a crescent formation, a traditional way to signify our mother moon. The board members at the front, then in order of Witch hierarchy. I notice the Nox are missing, no doubt confined to the darkness of their basement, and the lesser Witches at the back. If I wasn’t Solina’s daughter I wouldn’t have been important enough to have even been invited, let alone become her Second.
I look up at the sky. It’s clear. Of course it is, Solina has had every Elemental work their magic. I turn to my mother, my face betraying nothing of the hatred within. She smiles widely and turns to her audience.
“Welcome!”
I wince at the sound of my mother’s rich voice, so full of regal entitlement like she’s already wearing the MA crown. Salvador takes his seat at the front, but he’s refusing to look at me.
A hush descends over the guests and my mother continues, basking in everyone’s adulation.
“Tonight we usher in a new light. The age of the Mage. An era of promise and justice — one where Witches rule, at their
