Chapter 219

Olivia

“Ow… Mommy!”

I was a little girl, no older than six, laughing as I soared higher and higher on the swingset in our backyard. My mom had warned me about going too high, but I didn’t listen. Now, I wished that I had.

In my enthusiasm, I lost my grip. Suddenly, the world was spinning as I was flung from the swing, landing with a thud on the ground below. The shock of the fall left me winded and tears filled my eyes. My knee and elbow burned, scraped raw against the gravel.

“Mommyyyy!”

“Olivia!” My mother’s voice, full of concern, reached my ears before I saw her rushing towards me, her long auburn hair flowing behind her. She was by my side in an instant, cradling my face and examining my scrapes with a gentle touch.

“There, there, my brave girl,” she cooed, wiping away my tears with the back of her hand. She kissed my scraped knee and then my elbow, as if her kisses held some magical healing power. “All better?”

I nodded, sniffling. With a strength that always surprised me, especially once she got sick, she lifted me into her arms, carrying me into the house.

Inside, the warm, familiar scent of our home enveloped me. I sat at the kitchen table as my mother gently cleaned and bandaged my scrapes. She then opened the cookie jar, pulling out a big chocolate chip cookie and placing it on a plate in front of me, along with a tall glass of cold milk.

I was about to take a bite when I heard the rustling of a newspaper and looked up to see my father, his eyes peeking over the top of the page. His face was etched in mock sympathy.

“Falling off swings now, are we? I’d be falling and scraping myself every day if I got treated like this afterward.”

Mom rolled her eyes, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Oh, hush, you big baby. Here.” She handed him a cookie and a glass of milk, mirroring my own setup.

Dad chuckled, taking a bite of his cookie before cheekily dipping it into my milk. “Mmm, tastes better from your glass than mine,” he teased, winking at me.

The earlier pain forgotten, I giggled, trying to fend him off with my small hands. “Daddy! That’s mine!”

His laughter was infectious, and soon all three of us were caught up in the moment, the room filled with warmth and love.

“I love you, Daddy,” I whispered, leaning into his embrace.

He kissed the top of my head, his voice soft. “And I love you, my little swingset warrior.”

It was a fleeting moment, a simple memory, but it was filled with so much love, warmth, and the kind of happiness that only comes from being with family…

Through the haze of pain and confusion, one thought became clear. My lips parted, and with a voice hoarse from tears and anguish, I whispered, “Dad…”

The weight of reality slowly pulled me back from the depths of that memory. My heart ached with a sudden longing, and I realized that tears were streaming down my face. My vision was blurry, but the world around me gradually came into focus.

The sharp contrast of the current moment hit me hard, juxtaposed against the comforting memory of my parents. The gentle embrace of my father and the soothing touch of my mother were now replaced by the cold, harsh reality of my present situation.

Pain pulsed through my body, sharp and relentless. Every nerve ending seemed to be on fire, and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

The world around me was dark and hazy, and my mind struggled to comprehend my surroundings. It took me a moment to realize that the dull throbbing in my head was in rhythm with my racing heart.

Slowly, the fog began to lift, and I became aware of the oppressive weight pressing against me. I was still strapped into the passenger seat, the roof of our car resting against the ground.

I tried to move, but my limbs felt heavy, trapped beneath the twisted metal. The stench of gasoline and burnt rubber filled my nostrils, and a thin wisp of smoke danced into the car’s cabin.

Nathan. The thought hit me like a ton of bricks. Turning my head painfully, I saw him still strapped into his seat beside me, unconscious. Blood was trickling down his forehead, and his chest rose and fell unevenly.

A mixture of tears and blood filled my eyes. All I could think about was the witch’s prophecy and her promises of power. This couldn’t be a coincidence. It was a setup, her doing, her way of making us vulnerable, forcing our hand.

With a surge of adrenaline, I managed to unbuckle my seatbelt and pull myself free from the mangled wreck. Every movement sent new waves of pain shooting through my body. Pushing the door, which was now above me, I forced it open with all my strength and dragged myself out.

The world outside was dark, save for the soft glow of the moon and the flickering light from the car's broken headlights.

Turning back to the car, I saw Nathan, still unconscious. Desperation took hold. I tried to summon my wolf, tried to tap into that hidden strength I had always felt lurking just beneath the surface. But she was still dormant as ever, silent, offering no assistance.

I reached in, unbuckling Nathan and doing my best to cradle him as I pulled him out. Every second felt like an eternity. His weight was more than I could bear, but the thought of leaving him was even more unbearable.

Somehow, I managed to get him out. I laid him on the soft grass away from the smoldering vehicle.

“No, Nathan, wake up,” I whispered, brushing a matted clump of hair away from his bloodied forehead. My hands shook as I checked his pulse. It was there, faint but steady. But he needed help, medical attention.

And my phone, shattered in the crash, was of no use now.

In the silence that followed, punctuated only by my ragged breaths and the soft chirping of nocturnal creatures, a voice pierced the darkness.

“It seems you find yourself in quite the predicament, dear Olivia,” the voice oozed with barely concealed glee.

I looked up, my heart sinking as I saw the witch standing a few paces away. Her eyes glinted with malicious intent, and her lips curled into a cruel smile.

“This is your doing!” I spat, anger bubbling to the surface despite my pain.

The witch simply chuckled, moving closer. “Whether it is my doing or not isn’t of consequence now. What matters is the choice before you.”

I held Nathan closer, feeling the heat of his body against mine. “What do you want?”

A look of mock pity crossed the witch’s face. “Your beloved is grievously injured. I doubt he’ll survive the night without help. But there is a way to save him.” She paused, letting her words hang in the air.

I met her gaze, defiance burning in my eyes. “I won’t give you my daughter.”

She tsked. “Oh, but you must. Don’t you want your love to survive? I can help.”

I looked down at Nathan, his face pale and lips tinged blue. There was a large gash on his forehead, which was bleeding profusely. The weight of the decision pressed down on me. The very thing I had rejected, the outcome I had feared, now seemed to be the only way out.

“And if I refuse?” My hoarse voice was barely above a whisper.

The witch leaned in, her breath cold against my ear. “Then you’ll be burying your love come morning.”

I stared at her, torn between the fierce protectiveness I felt for my daughter and the man I loved lying limp in my arms.

The witch’s words echoed in my mind, and the gravity of my decision weighed heavily on my heart. Would I truly be forced to make such a terrible trade?

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