Dominant Witches Access

“Let them wait,” Seraphina said, not turning. She watched her reflection in the rain-smeared glass. At forty-seven, she looked thirty. Magic was a magnificent cosmetician. “Fear is the only currency they understand.”

“He’ll breathe,” Seraphina said calmly. “But he won’t interrupt. That’s the first lesson. The old world was run by your kind—with your wars, your boardrooms, your desperate little hierarchies. You broke the planet. Now, you need us to fix it. But we are not repairwomen. We are dominant .” Dominant Witches

Seraphina smiled. It was a predator’s smile—wide, serene, and utterly without mercy. She raised her left hand. Outside, the rain stopped. Not tapered off—stopped, mid-fall, hanging in the air like a billion frozen tears. Then, with a casual turn of her palm, she sent it blasting back into the clouds, which shredded apart to reveal a sky of violent, peaceful stars. “Let them wait,” Seraphina said, not turning

She stood. The air grew heavy, thick with the scent of ozone and wet clay—the smell of creation being unmade and remade. Magic was a magnificent cosmetician

“You have until dawn,” she said without looking down. “The novice at the door will give you tea and a blanket. My answer will not change.”