âThe kings met in battle, and what were once allies and peaceful unions became bloodshed and death.
âIt spilled onto every land until it forced both to find refuge in parts of the world where the other did not stray.
âIn the years following, those born of mixed breed, who came after, where unions were made in secret from those who didnât want the wars, were hunted down and slaughtered by both kinds for treason.
âUnions between the two breeds were forbidden. So those born of light and dark fled and hid and always kept their secret about who they were in any way they could. Danya was not the last.â
I sigh heavily, letting out a slight noise, but Sierra is making sure I keep my eyes closed.
I picture such a pretty girl with white hair, saddened with little pangs in my heart that they ended her in such a cruel way.
I wonder if a wolf can be both, like me, and one of those creatures Mommy is fighting. I wonder if this story could be a little bit true.
It would be sad if all these wars were because a bad man killed a little girl. All because he was afraid she would take his crown away. What a silly man.
âStories told are a funny thing.
âThey change and grow, and details are forgotten or exaggerated, and soon that story of years gone by gets lost among the wolves, and visionaries are too afraid to correct the tellers.
âWe witches became the enemy because we held truth and sight as alphas removed traces from our history and beheaded witches who spoke out.
âThe wars raged on, decade after decade, for hundreds of years, until no wolf or vampire knew why we came to hate one another with such passion. The witches still whispered the secrets, though.
âAll was to be forever that way, quiet secrets, until a visionary, a seer, saw something that changed everything, and she sacrificed her life by spreading a prophecy to any who listened.
âNeither side trusts the motives of the witches, but we have always been the peacekeepers and the healers among you all.
âOur hearts were open to love all kinds, and we only wished to serve the needs and cure the sick, but this hatred had pushed some of my kind into terrible darkness, using their gifts for bad.
âAnd we no longer tried to right the wrongs of your people.â
Sierra again lifts her hands from my eyes, although I keep them closed, ready and waiting for her words, and she returns to twirling my hair.
âThis seer, she saw an end to it all, in the form of a white wolf with a vampireâs blood running through her veinsâa direct descendant of both bloodlines, both ancients.
âThe prophecy was clear that only a femme could carry the gifts needed. She would rise and lead her people⦠not in war, hate, and death.
âNo, that was never the prophecy, but she was to unite and repair the bonds between the two because a warrior she may be, but her truest gift will be the love she has inside her, and her power will reset the balance.
âShe will not wipe out the vampires; she will find something among them that will show her how to fix the rift. They possess something she needs from them. Sheâs a healing balm.â
Sierra sighs heavily, fatigue in her voice, and a sense of hopelessness dulls her tone.
âA new king was rising among the people and his bloodline. The king of old was not willing to relinquish his throne, either.
âThat same power madness infected his mind, and he purged the lands of any white wolves he came across on his battlefield.
âNot that there were many, as the flaws in our kind make their birth almost impossible.
âHe broke the laws and killed his own, and to hide his secrets, he killed all that were linked to them and removed any trace from the packs.
âYou see, losing our kind in battle raises no questions, and he knew he could never let a white wolf rise.
âSuch is his need for that power he married a witch-wolf and hid her identity because he thought she would make him rise as the chosen one.â
I wonder if our Alpha Santo is that king. If Sierra is the magical witch in the story. Maybe she means Juan Santo is the evil king.
How silly. Juan isnât a bad man. Heâs the one Mommy went to war with. He is our peopleâs king now.
âThere was one who shone bright and started to lead a better way, turn the battles in our favor, but she was letting the vampires live and showing mercy all too often,â Sierra continues.
âShe believed she could end things if she could meet with the coven king of darkness and put an end to it all. She said she had a wayâa future with peace.
âThe alpha king was furious, but the witch luna had affection for the white wolf, and she begged him to leave her be.
âThe king knew the white wolf was too strong for him and that his witch mate would try to intervene.
âSo, while he pretended to allow her to travel alone to find this leader of the vampires for a solution to the fights, he struck down her family and her mate, putting an end to her own life, too.
âHe used the link between bonded mates to his advantage. He thought he had ground the prophecy to dust once and for all, with no more traces of white among our kind.
âThere was devastation in the air and a broken witch-wolf in heartbreak.
âThe king, however, was reminded of a child who had stayed behind and had not yet come to turn and show her true colorsâa femme child with the possibility of her hybrid motherâs gifts.
âBut you see, the kingâs mate⦠she ~is~ a witch, bound by a bond to him, yet she does not support his actions.
âThat wolf was her sister in friendship, maybe not in birth, but she adored her as though she was blood, and what he did broke her heart.
âThe betrayal of his people, the murder of his own, the betrayal of his bond to her in hurting her closest.
âThat witch, she knew he would come after the rest of the white wolfâs pack and end any chance of another rising ever again.
âShe chose her people over her bond, her love of the white wolfâs child, and it brought me to you.â Sierra stops stroking my face, and her words make me jump.
Iâm so caught in the wonder of her tale that Iâm surprised when she says that.
âWhy me? What am I to do?â I try not to open my eyes, as she said not to, and I screw them shut as hard as I can while holding myself still.
My little heartbeat rises again with awe and excitement for this fantastic story.
âYou are the last white femme, Alora, so I could not stay behind and let you die. I had to come and protect you with the gifts Iâve hidden for so many years.
âDonât be afraid. One day, when this comes back, you will know what to do.
âMy son, Colton, is a good, sweet boy, but I must leave him for a little while, even though it kills me. Youâll be what he needs when the time comes, and the Fates will draw you to him.
âIâve seen it. The Fates have deemed it so. Saw the pairing of my child and my Marinaâs as a resolution to the binds we find ourselves in.
âOur children will be the unity our three kinds need, and together they will rebalance what nature intended for our people.
âThe berry I gave you will make you sleep.
âAnd all that you know from the moment you woke at my appearance until you wake in the morning will be gone until such a time when we three touch and I can lift the binds Iâm about to place on you.
âIf something happens and I can no longer be found or help undo this, your mate bond to my son, the finalizing of the union, will restore this memory and the gifts Iâm about to bind.
âIt will break the spell, and youâll shine, sweet girl, with my son by your side.
âMy aura shimmers around and through you, weaving its path as I have given you my words, and our souls have become so wholly entwined within my magic. Look now.â
I flutter my eyes open with her permission, a little slowly at first, and can see what she means with a quiet inhale of surprise.
Iâm completely enveloped in a blue glow, all around me and somehow inside me.
I lift my one free hand to see there is not a single piece of me that is not illuminated as it pulsates from every pore, making traces in the air with my small movements.
Sierra takes both of my hands in hers, holding my entire tiny fist inside her palms and firmly squeezing until I canât free myself.
Her eyes glow brighter, the room becoming light with the power of the glow we are emitting, and her face transfixes me as she locks her eyes on mine.
~âIâm binding my life to thee, willingly our souls entwine.â~
~âMy air is yours, our hearts beat in rhyme, and together we are one âtil the end of time.â~
~âBy blood, we may not be linked, but in love and bond, by magic synced.â~
~âWe now are forever to die as one.â~
~âFor you, my child, this spell will be done.â~
~âI bind thee gifts until a time predicted when the world and all within shall be shifted.â~
~âWhen love breaks the ties I place upon thee, your mind and power shall be set free.â~
~âWe shall meet again, in a time and place that the Fates decree.â~
Sierra utters these words, almost like a song, as everything between us pulses and hums with a static that electrifies the room, and we glow to an insane level of brightness.
I screw my eyes shut, body energized and almost fit to bursting with the sudden pulse of adrenaline rushing through me.
I feel like Iâm standing in a wind tunnel, yet nothing moves, and almost as quickly, it stops dead and drops back to a dim glow.
Only Sierraâs hands remain blue, and those two piercing eyes return to their natural dark-brown color.
I blink my eyes at the sudden darkness of the room, adjusting as it all comes back into focus, and look at her in question.
Her eyes are full of tears; little rivulets stain her pale cheeks as they roll down, and she smiles at me softly.
âHeâs coming, and soon this family will die, too.
âTheyâre killing what is left of the Whyte pack as we speak, and theyâll tell those of the mountain they chased vampires into our lands and couldnât get to them in time.
âAs I have become, youâll be a thorn in his side, and heâll have no choice but to put you somewhere in the hope youâll be forgotten.
âMy fate will be whatever he decides, but I doubt itâll be here with my people. If you die, I die, and, in turn, he dies too. That will be my homage to your mother, so her death was not in vain.
âSleep now, sweet girl⦠before the horrors come to this room. I donât want that memory for you of this innocent familyâs demise, and I will stay here until he knows he canât touch you.
âFor now, for eternity, if he wishes to live.
âMy sleeping berry is potent. You will know of nothing more, my angel, only peaceful slumber.
âTomorrow, they will break your heart and tell you of the saddest moment youâll have to live through for the next ten years.
âIâm not a warrior; Iâm a healer, or else I would have done more for her, for all of you, and Iâm so sorry. I truly am.
âMy son, though, has so much fire within him, just waiting to be unleashed. He will be a great warrior one day, your protector, your love, but you will show him the way.
âI had to bind his witch gifts as a baby for fear others would see it in him or that Juan would see him as a threat, but he possesses sight and abilities he knows nothing of yet.
âI bound him, and like yours, his gifts will unbind when he marks you as his mate or Iâm returned to you both to do it myself, whichever comes first⦠You two are our future, Alora.â
Sierra strokes my face one more time, the sleepiness becoming overwhelming.
And although the words she says alarm me and push fear into my heart and a pain so deep because she said my mother is dead, the effects of that berry are pulling me into darkness.
I canât fight them. Tears bite my eyes, and I make a painful sound in response, yet it falls almost like a breath and fades away as I succumb to its power.
âI want my mom.â Itâs a whisper as I try my hardest to fight the effects, but my eyes drift closed, and Sierraâs voice is all that gets through, her tone low, husky, and torn as she cries through her words.
âIâm so sorry. I really am. I want her to come back too. You are all I have left of her. I only wish I could stand in her place and shelter you now, but he wonât let me be with you.
âOur time will come; I will see you again. Sweet, sweet, Alora.â She sobs a little under her breath, swallows it down, and pushes herself back to calm.
âIâll sing to you the wolf song. Such a pretty lullaby that will help you go to sleep. Your mother said she used to sing it when she nursed, and it was always Coltonâs favorite melody to fall asleep to⦠shh now.â
Sierra gently starts to sing, her voice wavering with emotion but still lovely and quiet, almost a whisper so as not to disturb anyone else.
She coos the words of the Nordic song of old that we sing at the awakening ceremonies, according to my mom, because Iâm not allowed to go just yet.
Theyâre for the grown-up wolves who have something special beginning, and I hope one day that will be me, too.
The notes and melody fill the air like a beautiful ghostly echo, calling on our ancestors to help pave my path to slumber, and I black out entirely as voices invade the room where I lie.