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The animal tilts his head back and releases a low guttural howl. While my ears don’t recognize the sound, my soul recognizes the animal. My heart skips a beat, and my eyes tear up again, blurring the magnificent beast.
Even in the darkness and its shadowy form, I can tell that its fur is dark, nearly black. I would recognize that look anywhere. Its wolfish features can’t fool me. The imprint he left on me is too strong, too deep.
“Grayden,” I breathe, the word loaded with emotion.
The wolf tilts its head to the side, its dark eyes studying me. The animal takes a step forward, his nose nuzzling my face, breathing in my scent. A heart-breaking whimper comes out of him when recognition hits him.
Helia, he says, his words echoing in my mind like a loving caress.
“Grayden,” I repeat, tears falling freely down my cheeks. If this is the end, at least I got to see him one last time.
How is this possible? he asks, looking down at his shadowy wolf form.
“You’re a figment of my imagination,” I say. My weak voice is barely a whisper, but his wolfish ears seem to catch it all. “I must be dying.”
No, my love, Grayden says in my head, the eyes of a wolf looking at me with a mix of desperation and tenderness in them. This is real.
“Then how is it possible?” I ask, repeating his earlier question.
That’s not important right now, he says, his voice taking on a hint of urgency. I need you to tell me where you are.
“I don’t know,” I reply weakly and shake my head, the chains rattling as I move. “I’m tired, Grayden.”
Helia, I need you to listen to me, he urges. I’m coming, okay? You need to hold on.
“I can’t.”
I’ll find you, he promises. I won’t stop until I find you.
“I’m so happy to see you,” I tell him, wanting to get the words out before the end comes. “I never thought I’d feel this way much less find someone who makes me feel like I belong. We might be different, Grayden, but our souls are the same. My heart, my soul, my mind, and my body are yours. I love you with all my being.”
Don’t say that, Grayden pleads, his voice breaking. Don’t say it like that.
“You make me feel alive,” I continue, needing to get it out, needing him to know. “I just wish we would have more time. I wish we could see what living actually is.”
And we will, he promises, but it sounds hollow like he’s grasping for straws. Stay strong, my love. Please, keep fighting. I’m coming.
“Thank you for being here,” I say with a sad smile. “Even if only as a part of my imagination.”
This is real, he insists. Helia, open your eyes. Look at me. I need you to—
The creaky door to the basement opens. The sudden beam of light pierces through the darkness, through the wolf I manifested. Hekate’s steps echo through the air as she descends down the wooden, creaking stairs.
“Oh, good, you’re awake,” she says, sounding delighted at the prospect of continuing our torture session. “Before we move onto phase two, I’d like to confirm that phase one has really seared in and did its job. I’d hate to put you through this whole ordeal twice just because I was too eager to get through it.”
If I wasn’t so weak, I might’ve laughed. But since I’m too exhausted to the point of being destroyed, it’s a miracle I’m able to tilt my head to the side enough to look at her from underneath my eyelashes.
Hekate comes up to me and puts her hand on my cheek in a surprisingly gentle if not even tender gesture. The coolness of her skin feels good against my cheek, and I find myself leaning into her touch.
Hekate gives me an emotionless smile, the corners of her mouth turning up into a practiced position. Her darker green eyes are void of all sympathy, lacking any hints of love that the witches claimed made us better than the wolves.
For the first time ever, I see my sister for who she is. Between these four walls where there’s no one else but the two of us, she lets the mask of a charismatic and charming leader drop. In front of me is now standing a ruthless and powerful witch who will stop at nothing until she achieves her goals. The potential for brutality in her heart scares me more than any of the wolves ever could.
“When did you become like this?” I ask, the words coming out as a hoarse whisper.
“This is who I’ve always been,” she replies. “It’s you who needs to be reminded of our ways and our beliefs. It’s time you accept who you are, embrace your position by my side, and stand with your chin up as we fight to set the wrongs right again.”
Hekate’s ruthlessness and brutality are a direct inheritance from our oldest ancestors. Her cruelty shouldn’t surprise me. I should’ve seen it before. Seen her before.
