Page 5 of The Beginning (Covert Moon, #1)

In other magical families, this would have been a time of guidance and celebration.

The mother would work closely with her daughter, helping her understand and control her new abilities, sharing family magical traditions and secrets.

It would have been nice to have my mother, who was undeniably the stronger witch, helping me navigate this transition like other witches in other families did.

But instead of getting more involved with me as my power grew, the only thing that had increased in Mother was her disdain for me.

She seemed almost threatened by my development, uncomfortable with the changes in my magical abilities.

Rather than offering guidance or support, she'd grown even more absent, more dismissive.

I'd stopped asking myself why years ago.

The question led nowhere productive and only served to reopen wounds that were better left alone.

Without Aunt Beatrice, I had no one to talk to, no one to ask questions of.

Mother had never encouraged us being close with others in the magical community.

It was as it she believed only she got to engage with other witches.

I shook my head, trying to physically dislodge the dark thoughts. That was the past, and that's where it needed to remain. I needed to focus on the present and moving forward, not on old hurts that couldn't be changed.

Still, Mother’s decision to host her party tonight felt like the final nail in the coffin of our relationship.

It was such a clear statement of her priorities, such an obvious dismissal of my importance to the family.

Bringing it up wouldn't change anything between us—if anything, it would probably give her pleasure to know she'd gotten to me, that her subtle cruelty had found its mark.

Making a big deal of it would only make Calyx sad, and that was the last thing I wanted. As much as it sucked being deemed irrelevant in Mother's eyes, I knew it was hard on Calyx to witness my treatment. She felt guilty about the favoritism she received, even though none of it was her fault.

Despite her lack of interest in me personally, Mother had always been active in magical society.

The magical community was small but influential, and our family name carried weight in those circles.

All witches, even those who were outcasts like me, were invited to take part in all the functions, rites, and seasonal events that marked the magical calendar.

I never attended any of them, simply to avoid having to interact with my mother in public.

It was bad enough to be discarded privately, behind closed doors where only the family could witness it.

I couldn't handle the prospect of hearing her dismiss me, scoff at my abilities, or find subtle ways to shame me in front of the entire magical community.

However, since her cousin—who was very much a witch himself—had successfully run for Governor and won, Mother's attention had turned to bigger things in the human world. Very big things, with implications that made my stomach churn when I thought about them too deeply.

Calyx had told me that whenever Mother thought she was alone, she would hum "Hail to the Chief" under her breath, a dreamy look in her eyes.

I could only imagine what grandiose political fantasies were dancing through her head, and the thought made me shudder.

Since she didn't think much of non-magical people—viewing them as lesser beings to be managed and used rather than served—the idea that she could hold public office and have any responsibility for, and power over, regular humans was genuinely scary.

Her lack of empathy and casual cruelty were bad enough when confined to our family.

Unleashing that on the general public seemed like a recipe for disaster.

Regardless of her being completely unfit to care for others in any capacity, Mother pushed on with her political ambitions.

Hence the party tonight, which was clearly all about plotting out her future in human politics, making connections and laying groundwork for whatever office she had her sights set on.

It was ridiculous to me, and, in my opinion, it was also potentially dangerous.

I asked Calyx again if she wanted to spend the night at my apartment, but she'd insisted that I come and hang out with her instead.

"For a change," Calyx had said, and there was something in her voice—something heavier than normal that made this request feel different somehow. A weight that suggested this wasn't just about my birthday or wanting to spend time together.

Like it had been a hard time for her recently. The thought sent a chill through me. Was Mother starting to turn against my sister now too? Had Calyx somehow fallen from grace, or was she simply getting old enough to see the family dynamics more clearly?

My sister hadn't said anything specific, but then again, Calyx didn't complain about our family the way I did.

She'd been raised to see the best in people, to smooth over conflicts rather than confront them.

If Mother had started treating her differently, Calyx might not even recognize it as a problem, or she might be trying to handle it on her own rather than worry me.

I shook off the feeling, not wanting to borrow trouble. Maybe I was just reading too much into her tone, projecting my own issues onto her perfectly reasonable request.

"Okay," I said finally, giving in to the inevitable. "But I'm coming in the servant's entrance, and I don't want to be around Mother or her party. I don't care who's there or how important they think they are."

Calyx clapped her hands, the sound carrying clearly through the phone, bright with genuine joy.

"Deal! I'll order Chinese and we can binge Charmed from the first season and eat cake until we fall asleep.

It will be like old times. We won't even have to be near the party or guests, or anything political or horrible. "

The enthusiasm in her voice was infectious, and I found myself smiling despite everything.

"Okay, let me pack some things and I'll be there soon.

I'll text when I arrive. Wait for me at the side door.

" I was going to avoid every other person in that house if I could possibly manage it, especially Mother and her political cronies.

At least I'd have Calyx, and cake, and the comforting predictability of nostalgic supernatural television. For one night, maybe I could pretend we were just normal sisters having a normal birthday celebration, away from all the complications that came with being Blaines.