Page 12 of Hexy Bear
"Mordaine Ashglen," Aerin breathed, her face going pale. "But that's impossible. I'm descended from Mordaine. She was exiled, that was why she was removed. Leo and I knew the story, what more can be hiding? She created the betrayal sigil and its purpose as we know it."
"You are descended from Mordaine," Nico confirmed. "But she wasn't exiled, Aerin. She was consumed. Absorbed into something that wore her face and used her knowledge to infiltrate every subsequent generation of supernatural communities across the continent."
The temperature in the bookstore dropped several degrees as the implications of Nico's words sank in. Mara unconsciously moved closer to Griff and Tilly, her protective instincts responding to the threat that was becoming clearer with each revelation.
"You're saying the entity we're dealing with isn't just some ancient evil that was bound beneath the falls," Leo said slowly. "You're saying it's been actively masquerading as one of the founders for centuries. So, Aerin’s ancestor didn’t really die but is still alive?"
"Not masquerading," Nico corrected. "It became her. Absorbed her consciousness, her memories, her magical abilities, and then used that stolen identity to position itself as a trusted member of supernatural society. Not only that, it absorbed other faces as well. Every supernatural community that's suffered cascade failures in their protective systems, every group of founder descendants who've mysteriously disappeared over the past century, they were all targeted by something that knew exactly how to gain their trust."
Griff felt his bear stirring uneasily as pieces of a horrifying puzzle began clicking into place. "That's why the shadow beingsrecognized it as someone who had seemed friendly at first. It wasn't just mimicking human behavior, it was using stolen memories of actual relationships and genuine care."
"Precisely." Nico turned several pages in the ledger, revealing what appeared to be correspondence between the original founders. "According to these letters, Mordaine Ashglen was the most powerful of the four founders, specializing in protective magic and entity containment. She was also, by all accounts, genuinely devoted to creating a safe haven for supernatural beings fleeing persecution."
"So what happened to her?" Mara asked, though, from her expression she knew it was going to be a terrible answer.
"She encountered something that was older, hungrier, and more patient than anything the founders had prepared for." Nico's voice carried the weight of someone who'd spent months piecing together a tragedy that had been unfolding for generations. "An entity that didn't just want to escape containment or cause destruction. It wanted to replace the very people who were trying to protect others from creatures like itself. There’s an ancient record I found stating that after her shifter mate died, Mordaine disappeared."
Tilly stood up from her chair, her amber eyes wide with the look she got when her magic was processing information beyond normal comprehension. "It's still here," she said, her voice filled with absolut certainty. "The thing that ate the lady with the pretty name. It's been pretending to be someone we trust, someone who's supposed to keep us safe."
"Who?" Leo demanded, his hand automatically moving toward his weapon despite knowing that conventional arms would be useless against this kind of threat.
But before Tilly could answer, Nico was already turning to another section of his research, pulling out a collection of official town documents spanning nearly eight decades. "Municipalrecords, council meeting minutes, property transfers, birth and death certificates," he said, spreading the papers across his desk. "All of them showing subtle alterations, all of them bearing the same magical signature."
Aerin leaned forward to examine the documents, her enhanced fae senses allowing her to detect magical traces that would be invisible to others. "These alterations aren't random," she said, her academic training taking over despite the personal implications. "They're systematic, designed to obscure certain bloodlines while highlighting others. And the signature..." She trailed off, her face going white with recognition.
“But wasn’t it proven that Dr. Vasquez was behind this?” Aerin asked, frowning and growing pale by the second. “How did I not see that there could be someone else…”
Nico shook his head. “It can’t be just the doctor. It can be anyone else.”
"The signature belongs to someone who's had access to official town records for decades," Nico confirmed grimly. "Someone in a position of trust and authority, someone whose magical abilities would be above suspicion."
The silence that followed was broken by the sound of knitting needles clicking in a rhythm that was both familiar and suddenly ominous. Everyone in the room turned toward the bookstore's entrance, where Elder Ruth Blackthorne stood framed in the doorway like a figure from a nightmare.
But this wasn't the kindly elder they all knew and respected. This version of Ruth moved with fluid grace that was entirely wrong for a seventy-eight-year-old woman, her dark eyes holding depths that seemed to contain starlight and shadow in equal measure. Her knitting needles moved, and it hurt to look at directly, weaving something that definitely wasn't a protective charm.
"Hello, children," she said, and her voice carried harmonics that made every magical being in the room recoil instinctively. "I see you've been having such interesting conversations about ancient history."
Griff's bear exploded toward the surface, but before he could shift fully, Ruth's knitting needles flicked in his direction and invisible bonds wrapped around his limbs, holding him motionless with the kind of binding magic that shouldn't have been possible for any single practitioner to wield.
"Now, now," Ruth said chidingly, stepping fully into the bookstore and closing the door behind her with a gesture that made the lock click with supernatural finality. "Let's not have any unpleasantness. We have so much to discuss, and I'd hate for anyone to get hurt before I've had a chance to explain how proud I am of all of you."
"You're not Ruth," Mara stated, her voice steady even with the magical pressure that was making it difficult to breathe. Her herbal magic was crackling around her fingers, but Ruth's presence seemed to be interfering with her ability to access her power fully.
"Of course I'm Ruth," the entity replied with Ruth's familiar smile. "I've been Ruth Blackthorne for thirty-seven years, ever since the real Ruth had that unfortunate accident during her investigation into certain municipal record discrepancies. I've been your beloved elder, your trusted leader, your source of wisdom and guidance through every supernatural crisis this town has faced."
Leo managed to speak despite the binding magic that was affecting them all. "How long? How long have you been manipulating this town?"
"Oh, much longer than you might think," Ruth said, settling into one of the reading chairs as if she were simply joining them for afternoon tea. "I've been guiding the Blackthorne family forfour generations, ensuring that the right people ended up in positions of authority, that the right records were preserved or altered as needed, that the right bloodlines would eventually converge in exactly the way I required."
She gestured toward Griff, Mara, and Tilly with obvious satisfaction. "And here you are, my greatest success. Three founder bloodlines, united at last after centuries of careful breeding and manipulation. Garrett Halloway's wolf magic channeled through a bear shifter whose protective instincts make him the perfect anchor. Silvane Beaumont's fae heritage diluted through generations until it produced a witch whose herbal magic can bridge any gap between different types of power. And Helena Whitaker's chaos magic and a shifter blood concentrated in a child whose abilities exceed anything the original founders could have imagined."
Tilly, who had been unusually quiet throughout Ruth's revelation, suddenly stood up straighter. Her young face held an expression of ancient wisdom that was heartbreaking to see on someone so small.
"You're not going to hurt us," she said with absolute certainty. "You need us. You need our magic, but only if we give it willingly. That's why you've been pretending to be nice, why you've been helping us become stronger. You can't just take what you want."
Ruth's expression shifted, revealing something inhuman and infinitely patient beneath the familiar features. "Very good, child. You understand the fundamental limitation that has frustrated me for centuries. I can consume magical beings, absorb their power and memories, but I cannot simply steal abilities that are given freely through love and trust. I need you to choose to merge with me, to willingly become part of something greater than yourselves."
"And if we refuse?" Griff asked, though he suspected the answer would involve threats to everyone they cared about.
