Hearts & Hexes

By Sylvie Moon

Fae has never met a boy, never stepped foot outside the hidden magical world she calls home—until now.

Sent to the mortal town of Wrenwood for her witch's trial, Fae must solve the town's growing supernatural disturbances before Valentine's Day ends. If she succeeds, she earns her place among the elite. If she fails… she's banished from the witching world forever.

It should have been simple. But Wrenwood is anything but normal. The townsfolk are acting strangely—lovesick to the point of obsession.

Armed with her magic, an overenthusiastic roommate, and a black cat who seems to hate her, Fae must navigate Wrenwood's mysteries before the festival ends. But the deeper she digs, the more she realizes—this trial isn't just a test. Something was stolen, something powerful. And if it isn't returned in time, love will be the least of Wrenwood's problems.

Magic is unraveling. And something in the dark is watching.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sylvie Moon
• Release date: Feb 9, 2025
• ISBN: 9798230644866

Book preview

​A Witch Among Mortals

The walls glowed faintly under floating orbs of witchlight. Girls of all ages clustered around oak tables, whispering incantations over smoking cauldrons. An elderly witch snored in a corner, her wild grey hair tangled in the pages of an open book. Bookshelves shifted and groaned like living things, rearranging themselves to disgorge grimoires with yellowed pages.

At the far end of the hall, Fae bent over a desk, her brow furrowed as she mended a fractured crystal orb. Her dark, coiled curls tumbled over her shoulders, pinned back haphazardly with a silver moon clip. Bronze skin glowed warm in the witchlight, her brown eyes narrowing in concentration. She muttered a binding spell, fingertips sparking gold as the shards fused—almost seamlessly. A hairline fissure remained, and she sighed, tucking the orb into her satchel. Good enough for now.

A sudden rush of wind snuffed out the nearest witchlights. Girls yelped as parchment scattered, and a black crow swooped through the arched window, its feathers gleaming like oil. It landed on Fae’s desk with a thud, talons scraping stone. The room fell silent. 

Shit, someone whispered. Fae agreed.

A crow’s arrival only meant one thing.

Fae of the Thorned Vale, it croaked, voice gravelly and too deep for its small frame. The Council has chosen you for the Trial of the Veil. A scroll materialized in a burst of indigo smoke, sealed with wax stamped with a serpent devouring its tail. 

Fae’s throat tightened. The Trial. The path to the Arcane Institute—the most coveted guild of spellweavers—or exile if she failed. No one ever spoke of what happened to those banished. They simply... vanished. Her fingers trembled as she broke the seal. The parchment unfurled:

"Fae,

You have been chosen to undertake the Trial. Your destination: the human realm. The details of your trial will reveal themselves in time.

You may choose to decline. If so, the crow will leave, and the opportunity will pass to another."

The parchment dissolved. Gold sparks singed her thumbnail.

You may refuse, the crow cocked its head. Many do. 

She glanced at the girls watching her—some envious, others pitying. Last year, Lira had taken the trial. No one had seen or heard from her since. But then there’d been Selene, who’d woven a storm to save a drowning village and earned her place among the Institute’s elite.

Fae’s chest burned, her sweater—woven to shift hues with her mood—faded from lavender to the bruised blue of gathering storm clouds.

This is your chance. Prove you’re more than middling spells and half-mended trinkets.

Well? the crow’s voice rasped like a match strike.

I accept. 

The crow let out a rattling caw and dissolved into shadow. Fae stood, slinging her satchel over her shoulder. She tucked a few spellbooks, her favorite wand carved from ebony wood, jars of potions, and a bundle of herbs into a leather pack.

The portal, a circular mirror framed by antlers, awaited in the Chamber of Thresholds. Its surface rippled like mercury, reflecting nothing but swirling mist. Fae inhaled, catching the scent of damp cardboard and rust—the human realm. She stepped forward and the glass swallowed her whole.

The shift between realms struck like a snapped spell—one moment, Fae stood in the Chamber of Thresholds, the next, the world unraveled into a whirlwind of fractured light. Fae stumbled as the portal spit her out onto slick stones.

Cold air stabbed her lungs, carrying a mix of fumes and a cloying sweetness that made her gag. She blinked, disoriented. The alley walls were plastered with peeling paper advertisements. A metal bin overflowed with greasy wrappers.

She staggered into the street. 

The world beyond the portal was a far cry from the vivid glow of the witches’ realm. Gone were the skies painted in shifting hues of violet and gold, no echoes of incantations threaded through the breeze, no crackle of apprentices bending reality to their whims. Here the air hung dull and pallid.

Fae found herself in a charming little town where the streets were strung with glowing red and pink lights. Heart-shaped decorations adorned shop windows, and garlands of roses looped around lampposts.

Fae squinted at the sight, her nose wrinkling. Why is everything covered in hearts?

A sudden chill made her shiver. A faint whisper carried on the breeze, brushing against her ear like a wisp of smoke. The blink of a streetlight above caught her eye, its glow faltering before steadying again. She paused mid-step, glancing over her shoulder, but the streets were empty save for