_Mia's training with Diana intensified, the tide-stone growing warmer in her palm as she practiced channeling the lunar thread. But the calm was short-lived._
One night, as the moon hung low, a knock echoed through Diana's house—three soft taps, like a code. Diana's eyes flicked to the door, a hint of intrigue flashing before she masked it.
"Stay here," she told Mia, vanishing into the hallway.
Mia's curiosity sparked. She crept closer, hearing murmurs—Diana and a low, melodious voice. A woman with skin like moonlit shadows slipped into view, her eyes gleaming with an otherworldly spark.
"This is Arawn," Diana said, leading the woman in. "An… acquaintance from the Old Coven. She's here about the reset."
Arawn's gaze settled on Mia, unnerving in its intensity. "You're the Alden heir. The threads of power are fusing, Mia. The hunters aren't just seeking a reset—they want to sever the bond between worlds."
Diana leaned forward. "Arawn means the boundary between the mortal realm and the Shadow Plane is thinning. Witches like us are conduits. If the hunters succeed, it could unravel centuries of balance."
Mia's mind spun. "The Shadow Plane? What does that mean?"
Arawn's smile was a whisper. "A place of echoes, where old powers sleep. Your lineage, the Aldens, were guardians. But the cost of control… it's steep."