Raven watched her twin sister pull the wings off a demon dog, and she knew the stories were true. In the dream realm, every witch wanted to crown the Nightshade twins as the most feared coven. But power had a price, and tonight Sage was paying it with pieces of her soul. The little hound whimpered, its one red eye dimming, its ragged green wings crumpled in Sage's fist. "Stop," Raven said. Her voice came out as a whisper. It always did. People saw her black lace and skull beads and expected cruelty. They never expected a girl too shy to shout. Sage laughed. Her emerald hair caught the swamp light. She wore the green dress Raven loved, and the sweet smile that fooled everyone. "It stopped begging an hour ago," Sage said. "That's the fun part." She dropped the hound. It limped into the roses and vanished. Raven crossed the wet ground to her sister. She studied Sage's eyes. A week ago they had been soft. Now something cold moved behind them, like a stranger wearing her sister's face. The corruption was spreading. Raven just couldn't tell how deep it had gone. "Do you remember feeding that hound?" Raven asked. "You named him. You cried when he was hurt." Sage's smile flickered. For one second, confusion crossed her face. "I... did?" Then the coldness slammed back down. "No. That was you. You're the soft one." She turned toward the gothic greenhouse at the edge of the swamp, its windows boarded, its gravestones half-sunk in black water. A woman stepped from the greenhouse door. She wore a mud-stained white dress, bare feet red at the hem. She held a black sunflower and smiled the way a doll smiles. "Petra Roan," Raven breathed. Their mother had warned them about her. The botanist collected broken witches. Her whole flock smiled that same empty smile. And now she was smiling at Sage. "Your sister found me first," Petra said softly. "She's so hungry for power. I can give it to her. All she has to do is let go of the last little part that still loves you." Raven's heart pounded. She had spent her whole life hiding behind Sage's boldness. But if she stayed silent now, she would lose her sister to this smiling woman forever. She grabbed Sage's hand and squeezed hard. "The hound," Raven said, louder than she had ever spoken. "His name was Pip. You said it this morning. You're still in there." Sage gasped. Her green eyes brimmed with tears, warm and real. "Raven?" The name cracked in her throat. Petra's smile fell. She stepped back into the greenhouse and shut the door. Raven had reached her sister. But Sage's hand still burned cold in hers, and Petra now knew exactly which twin to break. The hunt for the coven's crown had just become a hunt for Sage's soul.

Three nights later, Raven found Sage's bed empty again. The green silk sheets lay cold. Raven knew where her sister had gone. The greenhouse pulled at Sage like a hook in her chest. Petra offered power, and power was the only thing Sage still wanted. Raven understood the truth now. Dragging Sage home each night would never work. She had to give her sister something better than Petra's bargain. So she went to the one witch stronger than any of them. Raven climbed to her mother's room at the top of the house. Morgana Nightshade sat among dark red pillows, a bouquet of black moonflowers resting beside her. Spiders moved through her gray hair. She did not look up when Raven entered. "You come to beg for your sister," Morgana said. "I already smell the greenhouse on you." Raven's voice shook, but she spoke anyway. "Sage wants status. Petra gives it to her for cruelty. Give her a real place in the coven instead. Give her a title. Then she won't need Petra." Morgana rose. Her long skirt dragged cobwebs across the floor. For the first time she faced her daughter fully. "You think a crown cures her?" she said. "The corruption is not hunger for rank. It is rot. A title feeds the rot. It does not starve it." "Then help me starve it," Raven said. Louder now. "You said one of us becomes queen. Pick Sage. Make her your heir. Not for cruelty. For protecting the coven. Give her something to be proud of that isn't killing." Morgana studied her a long time. Her face never softened. "A queen trained in mercy," she said slowly. "That has never been done. The witches will test her. If she fails, I combine your souls to save the line. You know this." "I know," Raven whispered. Morgana lifted a single black moonflower from the arrangement. She pressed it into Raven's hand. The petals felt cold and heavy. "Bring Sage to me at the next full moon," she said. "I will name her my heir before the coven. But understand what you have done. You have put your sister in a contest she can still lose. And when she rises, every rival witch in this realm will come to tear her down." Raven held the flower against her chest. "She'll have a reason to stay now." "She will," Morgana agreed. "And so will Petra. You have not closed one door, Raven. You have opened a louder one." Raven carried the moonflower down the dark stairs. She had won. Sage would get her path to status, a true one, not Petra's poison. But her mother's warning sat in her gut like a stone. The greenhouse no longer owned her sister. The whole coven did. And every witch who wanted the crown would now hunt the girl Raven had just raised up.

The full moon was two nights away. Raven knew Petra would not wait. The botanist had learned Sage would soon be named heir, placed beyond her reach. So Petra pressed harder now, pulling Sage to the greenhouse every night. Raven decided she could no longer chase her sister in the dark. She would go to the greenhouse herself and face the woman stealing Sage's soul. Raven found Sage inside, kneeling on the dirt floor. Petra stood over her in a white dress stained dark at the hem. She smiled, the way she always smiled, soft and kind, while she held a black sunflower to Sage's face. "Breathe it in," Petra said gently. "The love she gives you is a leash. Let it go, and you'll never hurt again." Sage's hands shook. Her black-glossed lips trembled. She looked at Raven with empty green eyes. "She says you hold me back," Sage whispered. "I hold you up," Raven said. Her voice came out loud, louder than her shy heart wanted. "You named the hound Pip. You felt sorry when he cried. That was you, Sage. Not her." Petra's smile did not move. But her fingers tightened on the stem. "Names," she said. "You keep using names." Raven stepped closer. She pressed her hand over Sage's trembling fingers. "You carried that stray pup home last winter. You wrapped him in green blankets. You cried when he died. I remember. You remember too." Sage gasped. The empty green left her eyes. Tears cut through her smoky makeup. "I bought him a bed," she said. "With red moons on it. Moonflowers." Her voice cracked. "I kept it." Petra's smile finally broke. For one second her kind face twisted. She saw she had lost the night. "The moon will not save her forever," Petra said. She backed toward the rows of dark plants. "When the rivals come for your little queen, remember who warned you." Then she slipped into the green shadows and was gone. Raven pulled Sage up from the floor. Her sister clung to her, shaking. They walked out together into the cold air. Back home, Sage went straight to her room. She dragged the old dog bed from the closet, the deep green one with red moons and black moonflowers. She set it at the foot of her bed and sat beside it, holding the fabric to her chest. "I almost gave you up," Sage said. "But you didn't," Raven said. She sat down close. "Two more nights. Then Mother names you heir. Petra can't buy you after that." Sage nodded slowly. She looked calmer than she had in weeks. But Raven heard Petra's warning in her head. The rivals will come. She had pulled Sage from one wolf's mouth. Soon a whole pack would hunt them both.