The Reluctant Witch of Willow Creek: The Blood Moon Prophecy ( Book 2)

Chapter 18: The Raven's Mark

The sight of the raven symbol, stark and menace against the backdrop of the desecrated clearing, sent a chill down Luna's spine. It was a chilling reminder that the Hawthornes' darkness ran deeper than they had imagined, a poison that lingered long after the source had been purged.

"This changes things," Thomas murmured, his hand tightening around hers, his gaze sweeping the clearing with a hunter's intensity. "This isn't some leftover residue. Someone is actively wielding their magic."

Luna nodded, her mind racing. Whoever had created this place, whoever was drawing upon the Hawthornes' twisted power, was a threat unlike any they had faced before. The Hawthornes, for all their malice, had been driven by a lust for power, a desire to bend the world to their will. But this felt different, colder, fueled by a malice that transcended personal ambition.

"We need to show this to Mary," Luna said, her voice tight with urgency. "She might recognize the symbol, know something about the ritual."

Mary, her face etched with a mixture of concern and grim determination, examined the symbol with a practiced eye. Her fingers, gnarled with age but surprisingly steady, traced the outline of the raven, her brow furrowed in thought.

"It's a summoning ritual," she said finally, her voice barely a whisper. "A powerful one. The Hawthornes used it to bind lesser entities to their will, to act as their eyes and ears."

"But the Hawthornes are gone," Thomas protested, his voice laced with disbelief. "Who could be summoning their creatures?"

Mary's gaze met his, her eyes filled with a wisdom born of years spent battling the unseen forces that lurked at the edges of their world. "The Hawthornes may be gone," she said, her voice heavy with foreboding, "but their darkness lingers. And some things, once summoned, cannot be so easily dismissed."

A wave of unease washed over Luna. If Mary was right, they weren't just dealing with a rogue practitioner dabbling in forbidden magic. They were facing something ancient, something malevolent, something tethered to the very fabric of Willow Creek itself.

"What do we do?" Thomas asked, his voice betraying the fear that gnawed at his gut.

Mary drew herself up, her frail frame seeming to grow taller, her eyes hardening with resolve. "We fight," she said, her voice ringing with a strength that belied her age. "We fight as we always have. We protect our town, our people, our legacy. We stand against the darkness, together."

Luna, her fingers closing around the silver pendant, felt a surge of determination course through her veins. Mary was right. Fear was a luxury they could ill afford. The time for questions was over. The time for action had arrived.