Chapter 2 - Hannah #2
I plant a kiss on her forehead as I reach for the pipette again. As she drinks the syrup, I reassure her, “I will ask Amalia to change the flavor. How does that sound, Bug? What flavor would you like?”
Clarissa swallows the syrup begrudgingly, then wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Mint. I want mint flavor. It’s mine and Nico’s favorite ice cream flavor!” she declares proudly, and I giggle at the thought that the young wolf and my daughter are such good friends.
The son of the Nightcreek Alpha is like Clarissa’s big brother, even if they’ve hardly seen each other this year.
“Then you will have mint flavor,” I assure her, and tuck her into bed with another kiss on her forehead. “Good night, Bug.”
“Good night, Mommy,” she says before she turns around and sighs, closing her eyes.
Turning off her light, I pull the door closed with only a crack left open so I can hear her from my bedroom if she calls out for me. But I’m not ready to go to bed just yet.
I wander to the kitchenette in our log cabin, needing something to wash the day’s exhaustion from my bloodstream before I wash it off my skin.
Chamomile tea. Just as my guardian used to make it.
Sighing as I take a seat at the kitchen table while I wait for the kettle to finish boiling, I prop my chin in my hands and stare blankly ahead. Moments like these aren’t unusual, and over the years, they’ve become less crippling than they used to be.
The worst of it was over by the time Clarissa arrived, but throughout the years, I have experienced moments when I relive the past. Wondering what life is like for her father. Wondering if he thinks about me. Wondering what life would have been like were I not banished from the Iron Breath Pack.
Of course, with Clarissa’s birth came the emergence of my powers, and I discovered that I was a witch all along.
I wasn’t shiftless because I was useless.
I was shiftless because my powers had a different source.
It’s not like it mattered to the werewolf pack I was born into. Nor did it matter to Clarissa’s father.
And yet, I still find myself facing moments like these, when the past comes flashing back, and the hurt I’d faced eight years ago threatens to choke me again.
Perhaps it feels stronger than ever because of the volatile situation with the demon attacks on our doorstep. With every passing day, I grow more fearful about my daughter’s safety, and wonder if she would have been safer in the Bitterroot Valley. With her father and his pack.
My palms tingle as if my magic is responding to the mere thought, reminding me that I don’t need him. I have the ability to protect her on my own. And I don’t need a man who chose status over love.
He’d never be able to choose her.
A faint knock on my door snaps me out of my miserable thoughts, and I stand up and open it without hesitation.
There’s only one woman who knocks so sweetly at my door.
“Sister Amalia,” I bow briskly and step aside for her to enter. “Please, come in. I was just preparing tea.”
High Priestess Amalia smiles as she saunters inside, stopping to take a long, deep breath of the herbs filling the air.
“Chamomile and elderberry…” she purrs with a satisfied grin. “It appears someone needed soothing. I am glad I stopped by.”
“Speaking of which…” I say as I close the door behind her, then proceed to follow her to the kitchen. “Clarissa wants to try a new flavor.”
“I know,” Amalia smirks as she produces a full tincture bottle from the satchel hidden inside the folds of her cloak. She passes it across the table. “I picked up on her aversion to strawberries while we’d been having tea of our own. I prepared a new flavor for her. Mint, to be exact.”
I narrow my eyes suspiciously at Amalia, but it’s playful. “You always know things.”
“I am not the High Priestess for nothing, Hannah.”
“I’m not disputing that,” I giggle as I proceed to the kettle. “I was just wondering why I haven’t seen you out of your cabin these past few days.”
“I have been busy…”
“Of course.” Once I’ve poured two mugs of steaming water over the fresh herbs, I use some magic to quicken the tea’s steeping. Fire power provides a neat trick, so I don’t have to double-boil my teas on the stove.
When I turn with both mugs in hand, I find Amalia staring at me with keen interest, almost lost in thought while her eyes are fixed on me.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask as I place her mug down in front of her.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Amalia straightens up and pulls the mug toward her, polished fingers curling neatly around the ceramic. “You’re too clever for your own good, Hannah. Perhaps if you stopped doubting your abilities…”
“You’re changing the subject now.”
“Am I?” She slants her head and presses the tincture bottle in my hands. “Clarissa will need that now more than ever.”
I frown, stopping midway from tipping the mug to my lips. “What do you mean by that?”
Amalia sighs as she takes the first sip. “Your daughter will need you to fight. Not hang in the shadows.”
My nostrils flare with a flicker of irritation. “I don’t hang in the shadows, Sister Amalia. I am simply protecting my daughter from those horrible creatures.”
She clears her throat. “Your power could be invaluable in the fight against the demons. But only if you’re on the frontlines.”
“I am wherever my daughter is. You know this already.”
Amalia sighs, takes another sip of her tea, then sets the cup down before lifting her eyes to mine. “Someday soon, Clarissa will hold her own. Just as I saw the moment I met you.”
“You never told me everything about your vision…”
“I did not need to.” Amalia reaches over the table and places her hand on mine. “I have made all the necessary decisions to ensure that destiny played out the way it was meant to. And now, I ask that you loosen the leash you have on Clarissa, so that you may step forward into your full potential.”
My frown deepens. “Are you saying I’m holding myself back because of my daughter?”
“No,” she shakes her head slowly. “I am saying that you might be holding both of you back. You need not be in the shadows anymore, Hannah. Neither does Clarissa.”
“You’re speaking in riddles again,” I snort as Amalia retracts her hand and casually leans against the chair.
“It will all make sense soon.”
“Is something about to change?” My heart skips a nervous beat.
What if Amalia can’t protect us from the demons anymore?
What if the alliance doesn’t go as planned?
“Perhaps.” Amalia inclines her head. “Forming an alliance with werewolves is about to change everything, is it not?”
I sigh heavily, pursing my lips as I recall the devastation from last year, when we trusted a werewolf pack that left the clearing the moment the demons arrived.
The battle between witches and demons was disastrous, and the only way out of it so the other sisters could survive was through sacrifice.
Shanice’s mother sacrificed herself to save us.
“I know that many of our sisters do not agree with this alliance. But I am taking every careful measure to ensure that mistakes aren’t made a second time.”
“I trust you, Sister Amalia,” I assure her. “I know you will always make the right decision for us.”
“Hm,” she hums, then drinks the rest of her tea. When she’s done, she sets the empty mug down and rises to her feet simultaneously. “Thank you for the tea and your hospitality tonight, dear Hannah.”
“It is my pleasure, and my honor, Sister Amalia.” I stand up and bow my head.
She touches my arm, prompting me to look up and meet her eyes.
“I have not had time to tell the others this, but there is a fourth pack that will be joining the alliance, if all goes well.”
“A fourth?”
Amalia nods. “More packs mean more wolves in our home.”
“Is it…” My voice tapers off as my mind goes to Shanice and how much she’ll hate Amalia even more if it’s Bloodmaw that’s joining us, but Amalia touches my arm.
“No. It’s not them. Bloodmaw will never be a part of our alliance after what they did to betray us last year.”
“So, who is the fourth pack?” I ask with a frown.
Amalia pats my arm and turns toward the front door. “You will find out soon enough, my darling. For now, who they are is not important.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I ask after her as she makes her way to the door.
She turns toward me as she opens it. “Because if everything goes according to plan, I will need my star pupil on the frontlines.”
“There will be a fight?”
She shakes her head. “There will be tough decisions to be made.”