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I’m a witch.

My sisters are witches. Dad should’ve been a warlock, but never exhibited gifts. Sometimes the gifts skipped a generation for some of the children. And when they did, the rest of the coven would brace because the generation that would spawn off the ungifted individual would be one to watch. No one in the family born on any day other than the eighteenth of a month exhibited gifts.

I was warned that sometimes those with strong gifts fell victim to the dark side of magic, that we had such witches in our family, in Dad’s generation. She’d been excommunicated because of her actions. Her magic had been stripped, too. It sounded terrible and I knew I’d never do anything to risk that.

She said the Young sisters were the generation to watch. Five girls. Our coven is important to this area and that’s why I’ve felt so drawn to come back. And she also told me my parents’ death is the direct result of their attempts to keep us from fulfilling our destiny of becoming what we are.

Mom wanted nothing to do with it and was furious with my father for not telling her about any of it until she had five daughters who were all born on the eighteenth of their birth month.

Upon learning the truth, she moved us away to try to keep us shielded, but fate evidently intervened. Aunt Lyrica drove it home to me that regardless of trying to work against it, fate will always work harder than you. Fate has aces up its sleeve that you have no hope of comprehending.

I would see firsthand how true this was over the coming years.

4

Riley

Now

The chattering of squirrels rouses me from a deep sleep. I’ve slept for a few hours in the forest, just feet away from the river. I rise, my tongue mopping drool from my muzzle. It’s mixed with dried blood.

I hunted last night. I ate until I threw up. I wasn’t part man, part wolf last night. Feels like I was all wolf. And like I haven’t had nearly enough sleep.

I slide into the river, doing whatever I do when I have to swim it, blank my mind as much as possible before shifting to man underneath the water, swimming for a moment until coming up for air on the other side of the waterfall, inside the cave. Because of her, I try to only swim the river as wolf, because it somehow hurt slightly less over these last years.

I’m not alone. And it’s no surprise.

Mason, Ty, and Jase are here. All three sets of eyes hit me. They’re nude, ending their morning run here as we often do when we want somewhere private to talk pack matters. I know by their expressions that I’ve been a topic of conversation, know they have questions, and I’d rather not linger and deal, so I lift the lid off the big blue tote in the corner to fetch a bottle of water. I decide maybe I’ll avoid shifting next time I dive into the river. Time to make amends with it. Because the river didn’t steal my mate from me. My mate was the one who stole from me. Stole nearly seven years.

Savage House, Tyson and his mate Ivy’s place, is a sprawling place on the shore not far from the other side of the waterfall, so he keeps the tote in this cave stocked with drinks, protein bars, fruit leather, and swim trunks in case we need them. He swims the tote back and forth when it needs a refill.

When we end runs at my place, my garage also has a similar stock. I have a stocked fridge in the garage, which is also the shop for Savage Construction.

I bought my childhood home from my parents who wanted to downsize two years ago when my sister went off to school. It made sense with running the business from here and it’s an easy five-minute walk from the riverbank, which ends by the bridge between Aunt Cat’s medical clinic and Roxy’s bar. Less than five minutes in the other direction is our town hall along with the general store and gas bar, also known as the four corners of the Village of Arcana Falls.

Mason’s got a stash of clothes of ours in his basement, and his drink stock is much better than Tyson’s selection of warm sports drinks and water. Good that I’m here and not at Mason’s or I might be tempted to day drink.

Unless we’re in a coded situation, we come and go from runs without worrying about clothing. Though, I don’t know what the code situation is today after yesterday’s events. And I should find out.

I’m struck by how odd it feels to be out of touch with my pack, especially after the past six years of being at the core of everything going on. When she disappeared into that river and I thought she was lost to me, I left. I hit the road to get away from everything. I got called back for the change of the council and threw myself into that.

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