Alix (The Coven's Grove Chronicles #1)

Alix

The Coven’s Grove Chronicles

Book I

by

Virginia L. Hunter

Copyright © 2016 Grove Publishing, LLC

All Rights Reserved

AUTHOR’S NOTE

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic or physical editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

Dedicated to my loving family.

Alix

The Coven’s Grove Chronicles

Alix hadn’t always been gifted. In fact, she hadn’t been or done much of anything until after she’d turned sixteen—that’s when things had really gone to shit. Her mother was murdered, her father...well, no one knew where he was. That left Alix on her own in a selfish world filled with people who didn’t give a damn.

Nine years of hell had passed since her sweet sixteen and the discovery of her gift. So far, she’d managed to handle everything the world had thrown at her. Everything until Troy Sullivan strolled into the tattoo parlor where she worked.

Alix had known men before, sure, but none of them could hold a candle to the man that walked up to the counter looking to get some art done. As fate would have it, Alix finds herself on the run with the wouldbe man of her dreams while a band of fanatics, hellbent on finding her, give chase.

All Alix had ever wanted was a normal life. What she’d gotten was a messed up tragedy. And now, she’ll have to fight tooth and nail just to keep that.

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The Coven’s Grove Chronicles

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I call across the great divide

join with us side by side

ancient evils again once roam

time has come for a new home

come sisters thirteen

you are needed to fight the unforeseen

only a witch ready to see

may find her path to me

we will no longer stand alone

a complete coven ensures evil overthrown

M
iranda tightened her grip on each of her sister’s hands, as she recited the words, her voice building in intensity with each line. Hannah and Rhea, connected through a bond stronger than blood or friendship, recited the spell along with her.

The pain in Miranda’s throat crept down into her chest, but she couldn’t cease in her chanting. None of them could. Once started, the ritual could not be stopped—not without consequences. She began to doubt the wisdom of attempting such an incantation with so few sisters, but what choice did she have? It had been over five years since finding Hannah, and not a single sign of their kind had appeared since. She had to do something more drastic.

The old adage “strength in numbers” was a mantra that truly applied to witches. History had proven those who could work magic weren’t welcome in societies, high or low, and they would be expelled from such communities with extreme prejudice. Miranda had already gone through such a purging once, and she didn’t intend to experience it again.

Hannah fell to her knees, her voice cracked, but she continued to chant.

With Rhea’s help, Miranda pulled Hannah to her feet.

Over and over they recited the holy rite. Miranda’s mouth became dry from the repetition, but still she continued. Again, she squeezed their hands in hopes of empowering them.
We must not stop,
she thought desperately. They were so close; Miranda could feel the energy pulsing within the roots under her feet, and she risked a glance at the stone and wood dais they surrounded.

The cool colors of the green-blue lichen that covered the sacred platform had warmed into shades of gold, and glowed softly against the dark night. Tiny pinpricks of white light sparked off the stone, to float lazily through the air in all directions, lighting up a forest the likes of which none had seen in over a million years. Ferns, vines, and flowers of enormous sizes, packed the spaces between the snaking roots of trees that would make the largest Redwood appear small in stature.

Hope flooded Miranda’s heart, and she belted out the next line with renewed vigor.

A low thrumming vibrated from the dais into the soft earth around them. Each following quake became stronger. In turn, the gentle glow became more brilliant, until a surge of golden light suddenly burst into the star-filled sky. The blazing light engulfed the three women, and continued to radiate out into the forest sanctuary around them. The beam flashed for only a few seconds, as the accompanying shockwave knocked Miranda and the others to the ground.

Light still pulsed from the living altar after Miranda crawled to her knees. She shook her head, and blinked away the blurriness in her vision.
Foolish,
she thought, reiterating her lack of wisdom, as she looked to her companions.

Rhea was still conscious, and sitting on her haunches, while Hannah laid on her back in a soft bed of grass not far from the dais. The young, dark-haired woman groaned, as she propped herself up onto her elbows, looking around, dazed.

“Did it work?” Hannah finally breathed.

Miranda smiled, as all of them stared at the glowing dais. “Yes, it worked.”