Devila Black and Breaking the Silence
PROLOGUE: A Smudge of Ink
Growing up in Fayete meant being watched, but never seen.
In a town of pristine witches where natural hair and unmarked skin were the standard, Devila Black was a smudge of ink on a clean page. With her long blue hair and skin mapped in tattoos, she was the "weird" girl-the one mothers pulled their children away from at the General Store.
But the townspeople didn't just fear her look; they feared the atmosphere that followed her.
Since she was a child, the mist had been her only constant companion. It didn't just roll in from the Grey Woods; it seemed to exhale from her very skin. It was a mix of raw magic and shadow that reacted to the heavy silence of her isolation. For twenty years, she had kept it contained-a small, occasional fog that clung to her boots like a secret.
She lived on the edge of town, tucked between the judgmental eyes of Fayete and the dangerous silence of the shifter borders. She was a loner by necessity, waiting for a spark she didn't know she was missing.
She didn't know that the "pull" was coming. She didn't know that meeting Cameron and Vera wouldn't just give her friends-it would act as an amplifier, turning her quiet fog into a storm.
The third power was waking up. And the shadows were finally starting to whisper back.
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