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“These are books about the first two witches. The balancers of nature and their descendants. I had no idea that Minerva was their descendant. A direct line from both of the first witches. Her bloodline had ended several centuries ago. I had no way of knowing that she belonged to it. Not until I looked for the history of dark magic and found this,” Marlin explained as he glared at his fellow council members.
“It doesn’t matter how long it took us to learn this,” I cut in. “What matters is that we now know and are that much closer to understanding what it is that she is trying to accomplish. Marlin and I have hopes that some of you might help us better understand what that might be.”
Everyone turned back to the books in their hands, each reading a different part of the history that displays Minerva’s actions since killing her own sister. Mom leaned over to reach for the book Marlin and I had looked at, the book that discussed exactly what Minerva had done to her sister.
“It’s like the story of Cain and Able,” she commented.
“What?” I asked as I looked over at her.
“Two siblings, one favored more than the other. The less favored of the two kills the other sibling out of jealousy. Some say that Cain was then cursed with immortality, never to know the peace of death or the salvation of heaven. Minerva is just like Cain.”
“Where do you find the jealousy in that?” I asked, curious about my mother’s view of the story.
“Even when there was a balance, most people favored the magic of light. Darkness was feared, but light was embraced. Minerva desired to feel that sense of love, but felt the only way to do that was to remove the world of all the light. However, instead she was cursed for the murder of her own flesh and blood, and the darkness she longed to be loved like the light was instead shrank by the brightness of her sister’s light.”
“But what about the mention of her trying to rise a dark entity?” Marlin asked.
Mom smiled. “We all have a devil on our shoulders. Some are louder than others. I can only imagine that who or what Minerva is trying to find must have convinced her through her self-consciousness to take this path. It sounds like a trickster of some kind.”
“A trickster?” I pondered the thought.
It made sense. There were plenty of tricksters in the world throughout history. Many of them were neutral, but there were still a few who leaned more towards the darkness. It’s highly likely that Mom was right about Minerva and her mission.
“Marlin, see if you can find any history on dark tricksters. Even those that we ourselves have deem to be mythical. I want to be as thorough as possible with this.”
“Yes sir,” Marlin said. He rose from his seat and rushed from the room to follow the order as the others continued to read the books he had left behind.
“Is there any other business we need to discuss?” I asked.
My answer came in the form of five hands raised in the air, and I discreetly let out a sigh as I leaned back in my chair.
“Well then, let’s get started.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Madilyn
Just like clockwork, Alma makes her way to the side entrance to have a cigarette, and I seize the moment to slip upstairs, securely locking my bedroom door before hanging a ‘do not disturb’ sign on the doorknob.
A quiet atmosphere fills the packhouse. The cleaning crews are swapping shifts, while the kitchen staff takes their lunch breaks before starting dinner preparations. Everything unfolded according to my plan.
Once I’ve locked my door, I take extra precautions to quietly descend the back stairs, ensuring I won’t be seen by anyone seeking an afternoon rest. It’s a direct path to the kitchen and the door that leads straight to the forest, offering me a concealed escape from the eyes of the pack.
Pausing at the kitchen door, just at the foot of the back stairs, I listen as two cleaning ladies clatter dishes into the sink, lamenting the pack members’ messy eating habits. I hold my breath as they pass by the door, silently thanking Diana for the potion that masks my scent from everyone except Brady. They’ve now lowered their voices to a whisper, exchanging gossip about other omegas in the pack attempting to hop rank with a chosen mate. Under normal circumstances, I would relish in the scandal, but now is not the time.
Once the sound of the dining hall door opening and then closing reached my ears, I sneaked a glance into the room and finally exhale the breath I’ve been holding.
The coast was now clear, my pathway to the door unobstructed. I tiptoed to the screened door, opening it with as much care as possible. The last thing I needed is the clamor of an old screen door announcing my attempt at a brief escape into freedom.
The fresh air had never felt so sweet and the grass beneath my bare feet had never felt so lush than in that moment as I ran from the packhouse.
I wanted to shift. The urge to shift was overwhelming, my body yearned to shed its human skin and let the wolf within take over. Yet, I resisted for the sake of my unborn child, mindful of the debated effects of shifting during pregnancy. While some argue it places undue stress on the developing baby, others believe it fortifies them in the womb. Uncertain of the truth, I refused to take any risks.
Running in my human form was good enough for me. It was just as freeing and relieving as if I were running on all four paws. I could feel my mind easing with every stride and my stress from being cooped up for so long just melting away.
It was everything I knew it would be, and not a single danger was in sight as I reached the forest’s edge.
I pushed myself faster, running farther from the packhouse and deeper into the forest beyond. However, I was mindful of the territory I ran in. As safe as I felt within the pack’s territory, I knew better than to slip into rogue territory. Even without the threat of the vampire and the golden wolf rogue, there were still some rogues who had now lost their minds in the rogue territory. Rogues that would attack me without a second’s thought.
