Chapter one

I wake up, gasping for breath as usual, the last tendrils of my dream with Caden fading into the morning light. My heart beats a rapid rhythm of longing and loss, a feeling that’s become my morning ritual.

As I lie there, the words of my friends echo in my mind—they blame Caden for the graveyard of failed relationships I’ve left in my wake since I was sixteen. As much as I want to argue, deep down, I know they’re right.

Every guy I’ve ever dated has had to compete with a dream. And not just any dream—Caden, the Lycan who’s been my nightly visitor for eight years. Could it be possible that I’m the intruder in his dreams? No, that would mean he’s real. I shake the thought away, refusing to believe that the man who’s become my dream-bound companion could exist beyond my unconsciousness.

I’m no mind bender, capable of invading someone’s dreams. That kind of magic is frowned upon in Aurisylla, seen as an evil and intrusive form of our powers.

“Elara, are you awake?” I hear Sarah’s voice from the other side of my door.

“Just a second,” I reply, dragging myself out of bed to throw on a simple robe. Opening the door, I’m greeted by Sarah’s wide eyes and Lisa’s impatient tapping foot. They’re my closest friends here, the only ones I’ve confided in about Caden.

Witches get to choose their covens when we come of age, guided by our elemental affinity. My journey began in the Sacred Flame Coven, a sanctuary for those with fire in their veins. But water runs through my veins, not fire. So, at sixteen, I chose the Monarch Wicca, drawn to the serene waters and close-knit community of Lunara Cove Territory. It was a choice that distanced me from my roots and broke my mother’s heart. She had dreams of me following in her footsteps, becoming Matron of her coven. But my path is different from hers.

The decision to leave wasn’t easy. Silvermist Heights Territory was my home. It was the capitol of Aurisylla with its sprawling cities, always felt too imposing, too suffocating. Lunara Cove was more laid back, and witches are more predominant here.

“Can you believe Matron Sharpe is taking you to the council meeting?” Lisa asks. “This is unheard. Nobody gets that invite unless they’re apprenticeship material.”

I can’t help the flutter in my stomach—nerves tangled with a thrill I can’t quite name. “I know. She told me last night. Makes me wonder what’s up her sleeve.”

Sarah grabs my hand, pulling me toward the dining hall for breakfast. “This could be big, Elara. Maybe it’s about your abilities… or maybe about Caden.”

The mere mention of his name sends a shiver down my spine. Could the Matron know about my dreams? About him?

As we walk, my thoughts drift back to Silvermist Heights—the life I left behind. It’s weird, trading the heat and intensity of a fire coven for the cool serenity of water, but it felt right. Monarch Wicca was a tight-knit community, and it felt like I was finally where I was meant to be.

“Elara Storm,” that’s what Matron Lavina Sharpe called me on the day I was reborn into this world of water and waves, leaving behind the girl who grew up with flames. “Your journey is only beginning.”

The day I became Elara Storm, I felt like I shed an old skin. I abandoned my old name, Carlyn Von Stein. And somehow, that change summoned Caden into my dreams, turning them into a sanctuary where no man has dared to tread.

Breakfast buzzes around us, a hive of chatter and laughter, but I’m somewhere far away, lost in daydreams. Thinking about Caden has become my favourite pastime, a secret escape from reality.

“Aurisylla to Elara,” Lisa teases, snapping me back to the present with a flick of her finger against my forehead. It pulls a laugh out of me.

“Sorry, just thinking,” I mumble, my cheeks warming as both Lisa and Sarah fix me with knowing looks.

“Well, stop thinking and start eating. We’ve got a big day ahead of us,” Sarah chimes in, her smile wide and infectious.

I’m thinking about it again. The possibility that I might be a dream walker. It is both thrilling and terrifying. Acknowledging it means admitting Caden isn’t just a figment of my imagination but someone real, someone I’ve somehow connected with on a level I can’t even begin to understand.

As we approach the dining hall, a wave of unease hits me. I’m about to enter uncharted territory, invited to a council meeting, a privilege usually reserved for Matrons and their apprentices. It’s a big deal, and not just because I’m the exception to the rule. It makes me question why Matron Sharpe suddenly decided to take me along.

Lisa’s voice snaps me back to reality. “You know, your mum will be at the meeting,” she says. “Are you ready to see her again?”

The thought of facing my mother, Savannah Von Stein, after years of choosing my path over the one she wanted for me sends my heart racing. She’s a towering figure in the world of witches, and here I am, her wayward daughter, still trying to figure it all out.

“I’m not sure,” I admit, the words barely a whisper. The thought of seeing her again, of justifying my choices and facing her expectations, is daunting.

Here I am, Elara Storm, about to do the unthinkable—attend the grand convergence that’s usually a no-go zone for anyone who isn’t a Matron or their apprentice. Pretty wild, right? Especially for someone who, if fate had played its cards differently, would be tucked away in the Sacred Flame coven, probably burning toast instead of exploring the depths of water magick.

Becoming Elara Storm wasn’t just about swapping elements; it was like catching the perfect wave, riding it into a future where I could be more me than I’d ever been. Yet, no matter how far I drift, I can’t escape the fact that I’m my mother’s daughter—stubborn to the core, with a penchant for making waves, both literally and metaphorically.

Breakfast with my besties—Sarah and Lisa—is usually a riot of laughter and half-baked plans for the day. Today, though, our usual spread of pancakes and sausages feels like the prelude to something monumental as we try to wrap our heads around my invitation to the convergence.

Our morning banter is interrupted as Matron Sharpe glides into the dining hall. We stand and bow in unison, a chorus of “Matron” filling the air. She nods, signalling for us to be at ease, but as she makes her way towards us, the room falls into an anticipatory silence.

Matron Sharpe is the embodiment of peace, her demeanour as soothing as the waters I hold dear. In contrast to my mother, Savannah Von Stein, whose fiery spirit and determination light up a room (sometimes literally), the Matron moves with a grace that seems to calm the very air around her. And when she looks at me with those ocean-blue eyes, so like my own, I feel a sense of understanding that words can’t quite capture.

“Elara, it’s time,” she says, her gaze piercing through me as if she’s reading my very soul. “Go change into the Monarch Wicca ceremonial outfit and join me in the main hall.”

Popping up from my seat, I catch a glimpse of myself in the reflection of a shiny pitcher on the table. The girl staring back? She’s a far cry from the timid kid who grew up under the watchful eye of Savannah Von Stein. My hair, dark as the night sky, falls in waves around my face, framing eyes that hold the sea’s endless depths. Yep, Mum and I could be twins—if you only looked skin-deep. But the real me? She dances in the differences.

With a quick nod to my friends, I hustle back to my room, my mind buzzing. You’d think the upcoming Council meeting would hog all my mental bandwidth. But, nope. The thought of seeing my mum again after all this time is doing somersaults in my stomach. I wonder… could Matron Sharpe be persuaded to let me drop by to see my dad and brothers before we leave Silvermist Heights? That’d be the cherry on top.

Entering my room, a tidal wave of nerves crashes over me. Why does this feel like such a big deal? I flop onto the carpet, a bundle of jitters. “Come on, Elara, breathe,” I remind myself, cycling through the calming exercises Matron Sharpe drilled into us. Gradually, the storm inside eases, and I find my centre again.

Time to change. I stand up and pull out the ceremonial outfit for the meeting. It’s this gorgeous mix of blues and greens that always makes me think of the ocean—kind of perfect for me. Slipping into the outfit, I look at myself in the mirror. The colours really bring out the stormy blue in my eyes and make my dark hair seem even darker. It’s weird to think about how it represents my connection to water, and whom I’ve become since leaving my old life behind.

I am Elara Storm now, daughter of water and waves. Not just Savannah Von Stein’s daughter, who was expected to follow in her fiery footsteps. Looking at my reflection, I see someone who’s ready to take on whatever comes her way. Sure, facing mother is going to be no picnic, but I’ve got this. I’ve handled worse.

After giving myself an encouraging nod in the mirror, I keep it simple, with just a touch of makeup to highlight my eyes and lips. Slipping into my black shoes, I feel a surge of confidence. I’m ready. It’s go time. I step out of my room, the ceremonial outfit billowing softly around me like the gentle caress of ocean waves, and make my way to the main hall. In my head, I repeat my mantra, a soft whisper to my soul.

I am Elara Storm, daughter of water and waves.