Page 50 of The Alpha's Sold Pregnant Mate

Her smile made Esme burst into an abrupt chuckle.

“You're a lot stronger than you know, Esme. Not just because of the cruel things you've had to endure, but because of the power you carry within you.”

Esme looked perplexed as she wiped away her tears.

“Come. Let me show you something.”

Her mother led the way and took her to a part of the woods where a woman had just given birth. The baby, still covered in blood, was crying so loudly that its voice echoed through the woods.

“We have to help them.The baby is in pain.” Esme rushed over there and attempted to pick up the baby, but her hands went through it as the part she'd touched turned into a puff of smoke.

“That baby is you, Esme,” she said to her as they stood over them. “This is my memory.”

Esme looked at the dying woman, who seemed to be in a lot of pain,groaning exhaustedly with both hands clasped over her temples.

Her eyes were bleeding, and so were her ears and nose.

“What's happening to you?” She felt her tear glands charging up again.

“I had been holding back on using my powers. I had been suppressing them for a very, very long time,” she replied. “Powers such as mine weren't meant to be held back.” She sighed. “That's why they consumed me.” She looked at Esme. “I was a mind witch.”

“You could control people's minds?”

She nodded.

“Cool,” Esme said, impressed.

“Not really,” she replied. “Magic always comes with a price, Esme me.” She paused and continued. “I had the ability to control minds, to hear people's thoughts, and to know their deepest darkest desires—their darkest secrets. That was a burden that I wasn't ready to bear. Do you know what it's like to hear everybody's thoughts everywhereyou go? It was horrible.”

“You didn't have anyone to teach you?” Esme asked sympathetically.

“Oh, Esme. Witches are like shooting stars. We're very rare. I didn't have anyone to teach me,so I taught myself to harness it and use it to do good. But with time, I stopped using my powers completely. I started to suppress them, especially when I realized that I was going to have you.”

Esme turned back to the dying woman, and a lone tear trickled down her cheek. She looked up and saw a man, a farmer, walking past at a distance. She observed that the dying woman was chanting inaudibly as she stared in his direction.

The man stopped in his tracks and started walking toward the woman as though he was hypnotized.

As he came closer, Esme recognized him.

It was old man Job.

“You controlled his mind,” she stated to her mother, amazed as everything suddenly began to make sense.

“I did,” she replied. “I also commanded him to keep you alive until you came of age to take care of yourself.” She sighed in despair. “I should have commanded him to love and care for you like you were his own. Things would have turned out differently if I did that.”

Esme smiled at her. “It wasn't your fault. You were dying and didn't have the time to think properly.”

She understood now why old man Job always complained about why he didn't just leave her in the woods to die with her mother.

It made sense to her why he beat up his friend who had talked to her about committing suicide. He was doing all that as a result of her mother's spell.

Esme thought that her mother must have been very powerful for the spell to affect him even after she had died.

“A witch’s spell needs a vessel.That's why when a witch casts a spell, the spell loses its hold or effect after she dies,” she said to Esme.

“But that's not the case here, is it? Because your spell still had a hold on him.”

“That's because I channeled the spell to you.” She held her hand. “You, Esme, are the vessel that keeps the spell active.”

---