Chapter 322

Olivia

I saw Nathan open his mouth, clearly searching for the right words. Before he could speak, I touched his arm lightly, silently letting him know that I’d handle it.

“Layla, let me explain.” My voice trembled, though I tried to keep it steady. “It’s about Aurora. My daughter.”

Layla looked between us, her eyes narrowing. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

Taking a deep breath, I said, “I made a deal with a witch. For the final artifact to become the Ancient Wolf.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “You what?”

“It was a desperate time, Layla. Either let Ryan and the Redclaws annihilate our pack or become powerful enough to protect everyone.” My eyes stung as I spoke, my heart heavy with regret. “The witch let me keep Aurora until she’s three, but after that… I have to hand her over.”

Layla’s face paled, but she managed a gentle hug. “Olivia, witches are tricksters. They take advantage of us at our weakest moments. I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult this choice must’ve been for you.”

I nodded, grateful for her understanding, but also feeling the burden of my decision all the more. I glanced at Nathan and caught a fleeting look of hurt cross through his eyes. Layla saw it too.

“Nathan,” she began, her voice edged with an almost maternal sternness, “you have to be more understanding of your mate. She did what she thought was best at the time. It’s not fair for you to hold this against her.”

“It’s okay, Layla,” I interjected, the lump in my throat growing heavier. “He has every right to be angry with me. I messed up.”

Layla’s eyes flashed, her lips pressed into a thin line. “You made a choice in a terrible situation. You shouldn’t be punished for it.”

Nathan, who had been silent until now, seemed to ponder Layla’s words, his expression unreadable. Finally, he exhaled deeply, his eyes meeting mine.

“So what are you going to do now?” Layla broke the silence, a seriousness clouding her eyes.

Nathan hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “As much as I hate to say it, we have no other choice but to kill the witch. There’s no known way to break a witch’s. Not as far as I’m aware, at least.”

“But Layla,” I interjected, “we thought that maybe you could offer some insight, since your pack is known for its historical prowess.”

Layla nodded solemnly, her eyes distant as if lost in thought. “Actually, I know of an old fairytale that might be relevant. But—”

She paused, glancing at me and then at Nathan. Her eyes seemed to search our faces, as if weighing the heaviness of what she was about to disclose. The room was thick with anticipation, the walls echoing back our collective anxiety and hope.

“What is it?” I asked, my voice so low it was barely more than a whisper.

Layla paused, then let out a soft sigh. “I don’t know. You know how fairytales are…”

“Let’s hear it,” Nathan finally chimed in. “We’ll try anything at this point.”

Layla’s eyes took on a distant look as she sat down, clearly preparing to delve into a tale deeply rooted in her pack’s lore.

“A long time ago,” she began, her voice soft and haunting…

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom whose glory was dimmed by sorrow. A beloved princess had vanished, leaving a Luna—queen of the wolf pack and mother to the lost child—with inconsolable grief.

The Luna, named Seraphina, was convinced a witch had kidnapped her daughter, Princess Elara.

But Seraphina was determined, and she vowed to search every village, every forest, and every witch’s lair until she found her. The land was soon filled with stories about the relentless Luna, who left no stone unturned in her quest.

One day, Seraphina reached a shadowy forest known to be home to various witches. She sneered as her eyes met the dark trees, their twisted branches almost taunting her.

“You think you can hide her from me? I will turn this forest to ash if I have to.”

Word had spread among the witch community, turning once-bustling huts into abandoned shells, hidden behind layers of spells. But there was one witch who was not so prudent—a young witch named Morga, hungry for power and heedless of the Luna’s wrath.

“Ah, the infamous Luna graces my forest,” Morga mocked as she emerged from her magically concealed home. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Seraphina’s eyes flamed with fury. “Where is she? Where’s my Elara?”

Morga chuckled. “What makes you think I would tell you? She’s one of us now, and that’s all you need to know.”

The Luna growled, her wolf close to the surface. “You witches are all the same—deceptive and vile. If you will not tell me, then you leave me no choice.”

With swift motions, she etched a circle of salt around Morga’s hut. “It’s said that salt binds a witch’s magic. Let’s test that theory, shall we?”

“No! Wait!” Morga’s voice trembled as she realized her mistake.

But it was too late. Seraphina lit a fire, and the hut ignited in a blaze that turned night into day. Morga’s screams were absorbed by the roar of the flames, finally fading into eerie silence.

But even as the fire consumed Morga, Seraphina knew her quest was far from over. Morga was but one witch, and Elara remained lost, her fate unknown.

And so, the Luna ventured forth, leaving behind nothing but a smoldering forest…

“Another legend says that Seraphina eventually found her daughter, but it was many years later,” Layla said, leaning back in her chair. “But that she mistook her daughter for one of the witches, and burned her, too, having gone mad. But that’s a story for another day, I guess.”

The room went silent, weighed down by the grim nature of the story. Finally, I found my voice. “Do you think there’s truth to this tale? Could we... could we kill the witch the same way?”

Layla hesitated, her eyes meeting mine. “It’s a fairytale, Olivia. But fairytales are always rooted in some sort of truth. Salt circles and fire can incapacitate and kill a witch. The problem is getting them into that position in the first place.”

I frowned, my mind racing. “You mean it won’t be easy.”

She shook her head. “Witches are tricksters. They’re slippery and sly. They can teleport, change their appearance, and even move their entire homes with the snap of a finger. If you make an attempt and fail, the witch will come after you with a vengeance unlike anything you’ve ever seen.”

The warning hung heavy in the air. Nathan, who had been silently listening, finally spoke. “So, if we do this, we have to get it right the first time. No room for errors.”

“Exactly,” Layla said with a nod. “You can’t afford a single mistake. Otherwise, the wrath you’ll face will be far worse than any deal she might enforce.”

A shiver ran down my spine. Layla could see it, her eyes softening. “If you go through with this, I’ll help you as much as I can. You’re going to need all the allies you can get.”

“Thank you, Layla,” Nathan said, his voice laced with a newfound respect. “We appreciate it.”

Layla stood up, her eyes lingering on each of us. “I wish you both the best. May fate be kinder to you than the characters in my story.

With that, she left, her departure leaving behind a stillness that felt both comforting and ominous.

Nathan and I looked at each other in her wake, our eyes locking as if sharing an unspoken thought.

Were we really prepared to take on such a dangerous task? Or would we wind up just like the Luna in Layla’s story: misguided, full of vengeance, and causing more harm than good?