Ravyn moved far away from Amelia.
When bringing her in, he'd ensured to not walk close to her, keeping a distance that spoke of caution and self-preservation. It wasn't the same with the two other witches, but right now, Amelia was on her own. Isolated, vulnerable, exactly where he needed her to be.
Coco and Jane were both happy.
Finally, Amelia would avenge them and get back the crowns. The grand witch had arrived like a savior, her power radiating from her in waves that promised retribution and justice.
But as for their missing limbs, they had no idea about how to get them back. The blood had stopped flowing, their bodies had numbed, but the horror of their mutilation remained, a permanent reminder of their failure.
Amelia stepped forward, studying the carrier of the voice as a frown contoured her expression. Her eyes narrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line of confusion and disdain. "A Luna?"
She chuckled, the sound dry and mocking. "What authority do you have?"
