Luna
Luna
I chose the window seat in the back of the plane, partly because I love watching the world from above, but mostly so I could be alone with my thoughts. The cabin hummed softly, the steady drone of the engines somehow soothing, but the emotions churning inside me refused to be silenced. Below, the view was stunning—vast ocean stretching out beneath me, with dense woods and jagged mountains coming into view as we neared Silver Springs.
This should have been peaceful. Instead, it felt like I was heading straight into a storm.
Magic tingled at my fingertips, restless and harder to control with each passing day. Sure, I’m a witch—a pretty good one, if I do say so myself—but lately, keeping my power in check has been hell. Every bump in the flight, every intrusive thought, threatened to spark something. The need to distract myself gnawed at me, but no spell was going to fix what I was feeling right now.
It was that damn letter. Seventeen years of trying to lock away my past, and this one letter ripped it all open again.
My Dear Luna,
Your father and I love you more than words can express. We know you must have so many questions, but know that everything will be okay. Even though we are not with you physically, we have watched you grow from the very beginning. My love, you are everything we could have asked for and so much more.
Remember, my darling, that you are strong. The house we left behind for you in Silver Springs is already in your name. As your powers grow, the secrets within your home will reveal themselves...
I couldn’t bring myself to finish reading it. The words became a blur every time I tried. And there’s still a lot left, but I couldn’t go any further. Here come the waterworks again. My chest tightened, and the familiar sting of tears welled up behind my eyes. I bit down hard on my bottom lip, trying to keep my face neutral as best I could.
The keys Cassius gave me were digging into my hand. I hadn’t let go of them since he’d handed them to me before I boarded the plane. They were cold against my skin, a painful reminder of everything I’d lost and everything I was walking back into.
I couldn’t escape the memory of my mother’s amber eyes—the same eyes I saw every time I looked in the mirror. Smooth brown skin, just like mine, full of warmth and love, haunted me no matter how hard I tried to push the images away.
I love you, Luna.
Those were the last words I heard from my mother before she and my father gave their lives to protect me.
A sob escaped my lips before I could stop it. I clamped my hand over my mouth, trying to stifle the sound. The pain that had been sitting heavy on my chest all this time surged forward like a tidal wave. I whispered, “I’m so sorry,” the only thing I could choke out through the storm of tears that had begun to fall.
“Oh, dear. Those are tears of grief,” a soft voice interrupted. “What has happened?”
So much for privacy.
I wiped at my face with my sleeve, but it only made me feel messier. Great. Now I looked like a complete wreck—eyes swollen, hair piled in a disheveled bun with strands falling out everywhere. Not exactly the picture of a confident, powerful witch. More like a walking disaster.
“Here, dear, take this.”
I turned to see a woman standing in the aisle beside me, holding out a warm cloth. Her presence was immediately calming, like some kind of soothing spell wrapping itself around me, easing the chaos swirling inside me. I didn’t want her to go, even though I probably should’ve been embarrassed. But her voice, soft and full of kindness, made me selfishly wish she’d stay just a little longer.
“Thank you,” I mumbled, my voice raspy from crying. I accepted the cloth and dabbed at my face, finally able to clear my vision enough to take a proper look at her.
She was stunning, with an ethereal beauty that almost made me forget where I was. Her long, black-and-blonde curls framed her heart-shaped face, and her bright green eyes sparkled with both curiosity and warmth. She wore a simple white dress that clung to her figure perfectly, giving her an almost otherworldly presence.
“There, much better,” she said, her lips curving into a soft smile. “Tears don’t suit such a pretty face.”
“Are you real?” The words slipped out before I even realized what I was asking.
With a soft laugh, she reached over and pinched my arm. “Ow!” I yanked my arm back. That was unnecessarily hard.
“Well, you were questioning my existence,” she said with a grin.
Wait. Was she reading my mind?
Her grin widened. “You’re thinking quite loudly, dear. Even a novice witch could hear your thoughts from a mile away.”
I felt a chill crawl up my spine. She knew I was a witch. Who was this woman? She had to be a witch, too.
“Wrong again,” she said as if reading the very question that had formed in my mind.
I huffed, annoyed at how easily she’d invaded my thoughts. “Well, since I can’t think privately around you, I might as well talk out loud.” I shifted in my seat to face her properly, trying to pull myself together. Her smile remained warm, welcoming even, and I admit it softened some of my irritation. “What do you want from me?”
“Nothing, yet,” she replied, her voice gentle but with a mysterious edge. “I made a promise to your mother, and I intend to keep it.”
My chest tightened at the mention of my mother. “You knew my mother?”
She nodded, her smile fading just a little, replaced by something deeper. “Yes, I knew her well. She was a wonderful woman—strong, wise, and kind. She loved you more than anything, Luna.”
I swallowed hard, trying to push past the sudden lump in my throat. “She asked me to watch over me?”
“In a way,” the woman said, tilting her head as she studied me. “Your mother knew you would have a difficult path ahead, and she wanted you to be prepared. There are things she couldn’t tell you, things that will reveal themselves in time.”
I frowned, feeling a familiar frustration bubble up. “Why does everyone keep talking in riddles? If there’s something I need to know, why can’t anyone just tell me?”
Her smile returned, softer this time. “Because, dear Luna, some things can’t be told—they must be felt, understood in your own heart. Trust in yourself.”
“I don’t even know who I am anymore,” I admitted, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “How am I supposed to trust myself when everything feels broken?”
The woman leaned in closer, her bright green eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made the air around us feel charged. “Do you remember the stories your mother used to tell you? About the heart song?”
My breath caught in my throat. The heart song... I hadn’t thought about those stories in years. When I was little, my mother used to tell me about the ancient times, when witches had fated mates. Their magic was bound not just to themselves, but to the one their soul was destined to find. The heart song, she called it—a melody only they could hear when they found each other. A connection that was rare, beautiful, and unbreakable.
“Those were just stories,” I said quietly, though my voice trembled with doubt.
“Were they?” The woman’s smile widened. “The heart song is not just a fairytale. It is ancient magic, deep and powerful. And it is not as rare as you might think.”
I shook my head, feeling overwhelmed. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because,” she said, her voice soft yet firm, “the heart song is a part of your path. You are stronger than you know, Luna. And one day, you will need to trust in it—trust in the heart song.”
