The Twelve transforms the zodiac into a fascinating magical system while delivering strong characterization, clever misdirection, dark witchcraft, and an ending I absolutely did not see coming.
Give me witches and zodiac-inspired magic, and you already have my attention.
So when the publisher sent me an ARC of The Twelve by Joey Graceffa, I was immediately intrigued. Anything witchy tends to be right up my alley, and the idea of building an entire magical system around the zodiac sounded incredibly fun.
But I’ve also been burned by my own expectations lately.
I’ve picked up several books thinking, Oh, I’m absolutely going to love this, only to walk away disappointed. So I deliberately tried to temper my expectations going into The Twelve.
Thankfully, I didn’t need to.
This was exactly the kind of witchy YA fantasy I hoped it would be—and it even managed to catch me completely off guard.
Twin Sisters Born Under Different Signs
The story follows twin sisters Ophelia and Serena, whose births happen on opposite sides of midnight.
That tiny difference changes everything.
Ophelia is a Pisces.
Serena is an Aries.
They’re twins, but because they’re born under different zodiac signs, their magical abilities and personalities manifest very differently.
The sisters have been orphaned and are living in a horrible, abusive orphanage. They already know there is something unusual about them and their abilities, but they don’t understand the larger magical world they belong to.
They certainly don’t realize they’re witches.
That changes when they discover they aren’t alone and that an entire coven exists around the twelve signs of the zodiac.
And this is where the book really hooked me.
Zodiac Signs Become Magic
I loved the magic system.
Witches aren’t simply divided into arbitrary magical categories. Their powers are connected directly to their astrological signs, with the traditional characteristics associated with each sign becoming part of how their magic manifests.
It’s such a fun concept.
I’m a Virgo, so naturally I was paying attention to how Virgo was represented, but I loved seeing all the different zodiac signs come alive through these characters.
It’s not simply, You’re a witch, here’s a spell book.
Magic is inherent to who they are.
Their zodiac signs influence their personalities and magical abilities, making astrology an integral part of the worldbuilding rather than something added purely for aesthetics.
There is still spellcasting because, obviously, we’re dealing with witches.
But the zodiac gives the magic its identity.
Ophelia and Serena Feel Like Twins Without Feeling Identical
The dual POV was another highlight.
Ophelia and Serena feel completely believable as sisters, but they never feel interchangeable.
That’s especially important when you’re writing twins.
They love each other. They balance one another. Their relationship is clearly foundational to both characters.
But they’re also individuals.
Their different personalities reflect their respective signs without making either sister feel like nothing more than a collection of astrological stereotypes.
Serena embodies that fiery Aries energy while Ophelia brings a very different emotional presence as a Pisces.
Going back and forth between their perspectives allowed both sisters to develop independently while keeping their relationship at the heart of the novel.
Dark Witches Raise the Stakes Immediately
The darker side of the magical system also grabbed my attention.
Early in the novel, the sisters nearly encounter a deadly fate at the hands of a dark witch, introducing the threat facing this magical community.
Dark witches survive by siphoning life and magic from other witches.
Immediately, the story has stakes.
This isn’t simply two girls discovering they’re magical and heading off to live happily with their new coven.
There is something dangerous happening within this world.
And as Ophelia and Serena learn more about their powers, they’re also learning that becoming part of this magical community comes with its own dangers, secrets, and questionable authority figures.
Very questionable authority figures.
Naomi, We Need to Talk
Naomi frustrated me.
As the matriarch and leader of the coven, she makes several decisions throughout the story that I genuinely struggled with.
Do I understand some of her reasoning?
Yes.
Do I agree with it?
Absolutely not.
A lot of her choices feel rooted in self-righteousness and her own ideas about power rather than what would actually be best for Ophelia and Serena.
That’s particularly difficult to overlook when you consider what the sisters have endured.
These girls were living in an abusive environment.
If Naomi and the coven had the ability to intervene earlier, then I have some serious questions about why they didn’t.
At a certain point, saying you’re sorry doesn’t erase the fact that you allowed someone to continue suffering when you potentially had the ability to help them.
It also creates an interesting moral contradiction within the coven.
If you’re willing to sacrifice people’s well-being in the name of magical power or some larger purpose, how different are you from the people you’ve designated as the villains?
I don’t necessarily need to like Naomi, though.
In fact, the fact that I had such strong feelings about her proves that the characterization was working.
Losing Their Names Says A Lot
I was also fascinated by the way identity functions within the coven.
Once members become part of it, their individual identities seem to become secondary to their zodiac signs.
Instead of simply being known by their names, they become Aries, Virgo, Sagittarius, Leo, and so on.
I found that really interesting, especially within a story where Ophelia and Serena are simultaneously discovering who they are.
They’re finally finding a community that can explain their magic, but that community also has its own expectations surrounding identity and belonging.
That adds another layer to the worldbuilding that I would love to see explored even further.
Not Everyone Is Immediately Likable—and That’s Good
Leo was another character I initially found somewhat annoying.
She’s a lot. But she’s also, well, very Leo.
And I say that with love because my son is a Leo and my best friend is a Leo.
As the story develops and more of Leo’s history is revealed, her personality begins making considerably more sense.
That doesn’t mean every aspect of her behavior is suddenly excused.
Understanding a character isn’t the same thing as agreeing with them.
And that’s something I thought The Twelve handled particularly well across its cast.
Not everyone is immediately likable. But they’re understandable. They have histories informing their choices and personalities, and as those histories are revealed, the characters gain additional depth.
The Characterization Was Probably My Favorite Part
As much as I loved the zodiac magic, I think characterization ultimately became the novel’s greatest strength.
Each member of the coven feels distinct.
Their zodiac identities certainly contribute to their characterization, but the characters aren’t entirely defined by astrology.
They grow. They reveal different sides of themselves. They frustrate you. They surprise you.
And Ophelia and Serena undergo their own individual journeys despite entering this magical world together.
That’s exactly what I wanted from the dual POV.
The Misdirection Got Me
And then we have the plot twist.
I love when a book genuinely surprises me.
There is plenty of foreshadowing throughout The Twelve, but Graceffa also uses misdirection incredibly effectively.
You’re so focused on certain elements of the story that you don’t necessarily recognize which details are actually pointing toward the ending. Then the reveal happens. And suddenly you’re sitting there thinking: Wait. WHAT?
The best part is that afterward, everything starts clicking into place.
Looking back, I could see the signs. They were there. I probably should have figured it out. But the story had successfully directed my attention elsewhere without making the eventual reveal feel like it came out of nowhere.
That’s exactly how I want a twist to work. Don’t hide every clue from me. Give me the clues and make me look in the wrong direction. Then let me kick myself afterward because I missed them.
Fast-Paced Without Sacrificing Character Development
The pacing also worked really well for me.
There’s a lot happening between discovering the magical world, learning how zodiac magic functions, dealing with the dark witches, navigating the coven, and developing both sisters individually.
Yet the book never felt overwhelmingly complicated.
The dual perspectives help maintain momentum while allowing enough time for both Ophelia and Serena to grow.
There’s atmosphere. There’s danger. There’s mystery. There’s character development. And there is enough happening that I remained invested throughout the story.
Can We Please Get a Sequel?
Then we get to that ending. Excuse me? You can’t just leave me there.
The ending is incredibly open-ended and gives us one final jaw-dropping development that immediately made me want more.
I need answers. I need resolution. I need to know what happens to these characters. Even if the story technically leaves us somewhere that could function as an ending, there are enough possibilities remaining that I would absolutely pick up another book.
Actually, scratch that. I want another book.
Final Thoughts
The Twelve was exactly the kind of YA fantasy I hoped it would be.
Joey Graceffa takes familiar witchy elements and gives them a distinctive identity through a zodiac-based magical system that makes astrology integral to both the characters and the worldbuilding. But the characters ultimately made the story for me.
Ophelia and Serena work wonderfully as dual protagonists because they feel connected as twins without losing their individuality. The supporting characters are equally distinctive, and even the characters I didn’t particularly like became more understandable as their histories were revealed. The pacing was strong, the atmosphere worked, the magic was fun, and the combination of foreshadowing and misdirection completely got me.
That ending? I did not see it coming. Looking back, I can see the clues. But while I was reading? Nope. You got me.
I went into The Twelve deliberately trying to keep my expectations under control, and I’m happy to say I didn’t need to worry. This was witchy, imaginative, character-driven, and genuinely surprising.
Now I just need a sequel because I am not okay with being left there.
