Catherine's POV
Morwen smiled faintly. "Exactly."
She gestured, and one of the younger witches approached, holding a shallow bowl filled with dark liquid. The surface rippled even though nothing touched it.
"Scrying," Morwen said. "You're ready."
I stared into the bowl.
The liquid clouded, then cleared.
The forest appeared first, twisting paths, ancient trees bending inward. Witch roads. Places I had never seen but somehow recognized, as if the knowledge had been written into my bones during the long nights of ritual and instruction.
Then I saw her.
Aurora.
My chest tightened despite everything.
She stood at the head of a small group, golden light pulsing faintly beneath her skin. She looked… composed. Determined. Powerful.
Unharmed.
Unchained.
Unbothered.
The image shifted.
