Chapter 34
Chapter 34
Mira’s POV
I stared out the window as we drove in silence, the world outside blurring into a haze of greens and browns. My parents sat in the front, their whispered conversation barely audible over the sound of the car engine. I didn’t bother trying to eavesdrop, my mind was too crowded with questions, fears, and an overwhelming
sense of unease.
The old woman’s house was farther than I expected, tucked away at the edge of our pack’s territory. The roads grew narrower and the forest around us became denser. It struck me as odd that someone would choose to live so far from the rest of the pack. Was it by choice? Or was she hiding from something–or
someone?
When the car finally slowed, I noticed the willow tree she had mentioned. It was enormous, its branches long and heavy, almost like curtains swaying gently in the wind. Beside it stood a small, weathered cottage. Its gray walls were cracked and moss–covered, the roof slightly sagging. Smoke curled lazily from the chimney, carrying a faint, unfamiliar scent.
“This is it,” my mother said, her voice barely above a whisper. She turned to look at me, her expression tight
with worry.
I nodded, my chest tightening. Fear coiled in my stomach, but so did something else–curiosity.
My father climbed out first, slamming the car door with more force than necessary. He marched up to the cottage door and knocked firmly, his knuckles rapping against the wood. The sound echoed in the quiet, and for a long moment, nothing happened. Then, just as I started to wonder if she was home, the door creaked
open.
The old woman stood there, her sharp eyes flicking between the three of us. She looked smaller than I remembered, hunched slightly, her silver hair pulled back in a loose braid. Her face was a map of wrinkles,
but her gaze was steady, unyielding.
“I have been expecting you,” she said, her voice rasping like dry leaves. She stepped aside, motioning for us to
enter. “Come in. We have much to discuss.”
I hesitated, glancing at my parents. My mother gave me a small, encouraging nod, and my father’s expression was unreadable. Swallowing hard, I stepped through the doorway.
The cottage was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of herbs and something earthy. Shelves lined the walls, crammed with jars, vials, and bundles of dried plants. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room. A large wooden table sat in the center, covered with books, scrolls, and what
looked like crushed petals.
“Sit,” the old woman commanded, pointing to the chairs around the table. We obeyed, the wooden chairs creaking under our weight.
She stood at the head of the table, her bony hands clasped together. Her gaze turned to my parents, her expression hardening. “Before we discuss anything else, I need to address the two of you.”
My father frowned, crossing his arms. “What is this about?” he asked, his tone defensive.
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The old woman’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Do you remember what I told you when you brought her to me
as a baby?”
My mother’s hands tightened on the edge of the table. “Of course,” she said softly. “You told us you would cast a spell to protect her from Aaron. You said it would keep her hidden.”
“And how long did I tell you that spell would last?” the woman asked, her voice cutting through the room like
a knife.
My father stiffened, realization dawning in his eyes. “You said… fifteen years,” he muttered.
“Exactly.” The woman’s gaze sharpened. “I told you to bring her back to me before the spell wore off so I could renew it. But you didn’t. You forgot. And because of that, the spell broke, and Aaron found her.”
My mother’s face paled. “Forgot?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Oh, Goddess, we forgot. Mira, we are
so sorry.”
I stared at them, my hands clenching in my lap. “You forgot?” I said, my voice rising. “You forgot something
that important? Something that could’ve kept me safe?”
“We didn’t mean to,” my father said, his voice tight with regret. “We were so focused on keeping you happy, on
raising you as our own, that… it slipped our minds.”
“Slipped your minds?” I repeated, anger bubbling to the surface. “Do you even realize what I have been through because of that? Aaron tried to kill me. He wanted to sacrifice me!”
My mother’s eyes filled with tears. “We didn’t know,” she said, reaching for my hand. “We thought you were
safe here, with the pack. We thought the danger had passed.”
The old woman shook her head, her expression grim. “The danger never passed. You were merely hidden. When the spell broke, Aaron sensed her immediately. That is why he was able to track her to the Firemoon
Pack.”
My father groaned, running a hand through his hair. “How could I forget something so important?” he muttered, his voice filled with self–loathing.
The woman sighed. “What’s done is done. There is no use dwelling on your mistakes now. The spell cannot be renewed, and it wouldn’t matter even if it could. Mira needs her powers now. She will need them to face Aaron and anyone else who seeks to harm her.”
My stomach twisted at her words. “My powers?” I asked quietly. “What powers?”
The woman turned to me, her sharp gaze softening slightly. “You are not an ordinary wolf, child. You carry the bloodline of something ancient, something powerful. That is why Aaron wants you. But you will not face him powerless. I will prepare a ritual to awaken and strengthen your abilities.”
I swallowed hard, fear and uncertainty mingling in my chest. “What kind of ritual?”
“One that will require strength, courage, and trust,” she said. “It will not be easy, but it is necessary. Without your powers, you will not survive what is coming.”
She moved to a nearby shelf, her hands deftly sifting through jars and vials. After a moment, she returned to the table, holding a small object. “Until the ritual is ready, you must wear this,” she said, holding out a delicate silver chain with a pendant.
I took it from her, my fingers brushing against the cool metal. The pendant was shaped like a locket,
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intricately carved with swirling patterns. At its center was a small, shimmering stone that seemed to shift
between silver and blue in the light.
“This is an amulet of protection,” the woman explained, “It will shield you from evil forces until your powers are fully awakened. Never take it off.”
I nodded, slipping the chain over my head. The locket rested against my chest, its weight both comforting
and strange.
“Thank you,” I said softly, my voice thick with emotion.
The old woman gave me a small, approving nod, “You are stronger than you think, Mira. Remember that.”
She turned to my parents. “I will gather the necessary supplies for the ritual. It will take some time, but I will send word when I am ready.”
My parents nodded, murmuring their thanks. My mother placed a hand on my arm as we stood to leave. “We are so sorry, Mira,” she whispered. “For everything.”
I didn’t respond. My emotions were too raw, too tangled,
As we stepped outside, the cool air hit me like a slap. The drive home was quiet, the weight of everything we had learned settling over us like a heavy blanket. My parents tried to speak, their voices low and hesitant, but I couldn’t bring myself to listen.
I fingered the locket around my neck, its smooth surface grounding me. Whatever came next, I would face it. I had to. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was finally getting closer to the truth. And I would not stop until I had all the answers.
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