𝐑𝐞𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 & 𝐒𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐝: 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍

Chapter 8: Gentle Deceit

Stone Ravencroft: Age 16|

The clock struck a new hour, doors shut the lights dimmed and art on the ceiling began a slow dance to euphonies the orchestra had calibrated to perfection. Wide-eyed with dazed astonishment everyone in the audience seemed wonderstruck as they followed a story of love, betrayal, and death from the scene I'd etched.

My head maid, came to escort me armed with final touches, "Time to drop the hood off and cover that face. Oh, careful with the hair, we have the crown next."

Attentive ushers escorted guests to their respective seats.

Werewolves were in the front row with day walkers behind them, witches were watching all their backs and humans were at the very end close to the exits. A polished staircase made of white gold led to a grand quarter where the Aries Coven Matron, her most trusted and fruit punch of select dignitaries sat. I had designed it to be dark to a point where one could only see the vibrant colours of attire, glittering jewels and also be at an advantage of what the stage below offered. 

A cherry-haired, and hourglass-figured enchantress from the Scorpio Coven sashayed for the centre stage. Her mouth opened, cleavage rising with lungs filling and sang out a beautiful siren melody. A dark-skinned male enchanter with pipes of gold joined her on stage. The crowd watched with some crying in silence and when the pair was done they gave them a well-earned standing ovation. One Bishop from the human and religious community - a man who had just recently begun to accept our existence - stood to take over the stage with an opening prayer. The crowd muttered amongst itself but otherwise remained in place watching him recite a couple of verses from his holy book. An Imam joined the stage with a script from his holy book, and then a Kohen did the same until all were done and united for a closing prayer.

After they cleared the stage Mrs Baudouin took it with a frock that highlighted the stretch of her arms which loudly announced and welcomed the hosting Matron - my mother. Backs straightened, ears perked, and breaths released when the concealed entryway on the court column hatched just for her. The Matron passed through it with elegant drama captured by her slow walk that was weighed in the steel, taffeta and lace of her avant-garde dress.  Her black crown of expensive and rare jewels sat sharp and proudly atop her lush wavy hair. Once satisfied all eyes were on her, her skin warmed and I know because I felt mine warm too - she must have been drawing power from me for a reason I had not been notified of. 

"Hail the moon goddess!" arms spread in reverence, it was my mother's voice. "Full of grace, mercies and favour. She has allowed me to enlighten the rest of you once again on this joyous evening." Fire bled from her pores and engulfed the rest of her being without burning the enchanted designer gown. This had always been her primary power, inherited after she gave birth to me.

The audience loved it.

"I am Jenna Ravencroft. Matron to all twelve Covens and womb that bore the empowered jewel of the goddess." Even though most of my face was hidden by the gold steel mask, all eyes cut to me and I remained still as mom continued her paraphrased but usual introduction. "Stone Ravencroft. Sixteen this year, the heir sword of Marcus Ravencroft himself, he only continues to grow more powerful in the depths of the night shadows each year. And this year, he will be the one to offer the real closing prayer after tonight's activities." 

The audience was excited but I was in shock. 

Each year my job was to organise the Gala. Never had I been asked, required or tasked with any sort of participation. Especially one as grand as the witches' version of closing prayer. Mom took her seat and once activity started I leaned into her space, "Since when am I doing the closing prayer?" 

"Since I decided so." 

"When and why?" 

"Tonight and because we need to send a message to your father." not quite finished she shrugged a smile, "And other people." 

"And are these people werewolves?" I had a feeling ok, "Like your family?" 

Mom didn't answer, instead, her red-lined eyes narrowed at me with a cold secret. Burgundy lips curved to reveal a symmetrical smile that was positive but destructive. "Make sure to enjoy the evening my precious," she said, reclining on her seat for a nap. "Wake me up when the boring parts are over. I need a rest, I've been up all week." 

No problem. I plan to make the most of it, I thought to myself as I searched the seats until I found him. 

The crisis of my obedience, sitting next to my cousin, his bright hazel eyes blazed with disdain and mistrust. I willed for him to look at me but stiff with rage and impatience he did not, my cousin did though and I waved. She waved back with a smile, mom's head maid and effective spy saw this exchange and frowned. It made me nervous so I swept my eyes all around me then once certain I was safe I tentatively pulled off one of my gloves. Reaching into my crown I loosen two quartz stones and then discretely made a tiny cut into my left palm. I had decided that the need to reclaim myself in my mate's eyes was far greater than falling into obedience to my mother's wishes. I wanted her safely in a deep slumber until later.

Therefore, careful to be unseen I took the stones below the sleeves of my cloak to mix with blood. Under my breath, I devoted myself to an age-old incantation that allowed me to seek dead souls in the room. Gemini witches had a habit of harvesting power by means of forcing their young to be possessed by dead spirits sometimes. So I was not surprised to find one laying dormant in the body of an unsuspecting witch. Awakened by my call I instructed the dead soul to depart the vessel it was in. Through its transparency, I steered it closer, to stand guard over my mother's body until my return but it couldn't draw nearer as required to her. Once again, mom's skin warmed and mine did too, which reminded me that she had and still was tapping into my power for an unknown reason. So, I drew more of my blood and tried again.  

"Yes!" I rejoiced a little in my seat, proud that I had managed what I wanted successfully. Not only had I overpowered an extension of my own battery source but I had also managed to get away with it in a room full of supernaturals - especially witches and daywalkers.  A feeling of being watched surged and stole my joy. 

Hazel eyes met mine, appraising and calculating. 

Warmth pooled on my cheeks and ears with embarrassment so I tried to pull my eyes away from Tyler's but his gaze deep and probing bit into mine with the severity of refined discernment. I thought about what I was doing before I caught his glare.  A cold shiver ran through my body. The need to contain my fear of being judged and rejected struck me like a punch right in my stomach. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth in thought and thankfully an opportunity to redeem myself presented itself when Tyler spilt a drink on himself. Prompting his to visit the restrooms. I refused to waste time and I'd just taken the biggest risk in my life so far on the thread of hope that I would get this time. So I followed him and did a small thing to the restroom doors. "Dammit!" he cursed and shoulder-pushed the doors once more and twice the harsher.

"They're locked." I lied.

He groaned a complaint and ran a hand through his traces. "Well can you get them opened?"

"No," I lied again. "They open in an hour after all the covens show off their talents, but if you delay then I can take you to another floor?"

"There's no need." his voice was a rough slide of fatigued, rich coal and thick oil. "Directions alone will do."

"If you go alone they will not open. The floor responds only to my magic or my mother's."

He appraised the red wine on his white shirt and huffed, as though just the thought alone of being in my presence endangered his fantastic reputation. "Lead the way."

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