Page 17 of Wolf Proclaimed

Gretel's quiet voice broke the silence that followed. "Mira," she began, her eyes reflecting the bare tree, "Your energies are still at war within you."

Her words lingered in the air, a stark reminder of the delicate balance I was yet to achieve. My gaze shifted from the lifeless tree to the distant outline of our cabin, the place I shared with Bastian. I was seized by a powerful longing for simpler times, before this whirlwind of identity crisis engulfed me.

I often yearned for days when my only responsibility was to support my alpha, my mate, not to untangle the gnarled mess of my dual identity. The full moon nights, the magic practices—each one emphasized my struggle, my wolf side, and the witch side entangled in an endless dance of conflict.

"My child," Gretel's voice drew me back, her hand warm on my shoulder, "This is a journey, and it won't be easy. But remember, you're not alone."

That night, the crackling fire in the fireplace provided the only light, casting a warm, dancing glow on Gretel's concerned face as she regarded me from across the room. The silence stretched between us, the steady beat of my heart the only testament to the time that slipped by.

"Mira," she finally spoke, her voice echoing the somber mood that had enveloped the room. "We need to talk."

I looked at her, my own concerns reflected in her gaze. The whirlwind of recent events, the chaos my life had turned into, all began to chip away at the once-sturdy walls I'd built around myself. "I'm all ears, Mother," I said, keeping my tone light despite the tremors of unease snaking through me.

Gretel sighed, her hand lightly gripping the mug of warm tea in front of her. "These past few weeks have been...intense," she began, carefully choosing her words. "Your magic has awakened, and the clash between your witch side and the wolf is causing you pain. I can see it. It's evident in every spell, every transformation."

Her words rang true. The piercing pain that accompanied my shifts and the uncontrollable anger that erupted during the spells were overwhelming. I clenched my fists, the blunt edge of my nails digging into my palms, grounding me. "It feels like I'm being torn apart," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper.

A look of understanding passed across Gretel's face. "I can only imagine," she murmured, her gaze softened. "Mira, you're wrestling with two incredibly potent forces."

A bitter laugh escaped me. "That's one way to put it," I muttered, the truth of her words cutting deep.

Gretel leaned back in her chair, studying me with a thoughtful gaze. "Maybe it's time we pause your training," she suggested after a moment, her words hanging in the air between us.

I blinked, the idea catching me off guard. "Pause? But I need to learn control, don't I?" I questioned, unsure whether I should be relieved or worried at the prospect.

Gretel nodded, her eyes still holding mine. "Yes, you do. But right now, your body and mind are in constant conflict. You need to adjust, Mira. You need to let yourself find a balance between the witch and the wolf—give yourself some time."

Her words, as unsettling as they were, made sense. I had been struggling, caught in a maelstrom of emotions and pain. Maybe, I needed this break, this time to understand and adjust to the powerful forces wrestling within me.

"Alright," I agreed, taking a deep breath to calm my racing heart. "I'll take the break."

Gretel smiled at me, her hand reaching the table to cover mine. "This journey won't be easy, Mira. But remember, you're not alone. You have Bastian, the pack, and you have me."

As the evening gave way to night, I found myself caught in the clutches of sleeplessness. My mind was a turbulent sea, my thoughts crashing against each other in relentless waves. Though comforting and reasonable, Gretel's words seemed to etch a pattern of defeat. The idea of stepping back, of surrendering to the turmoil within me without a fight, gnawed at the edges of my consciousness.

I tossed and turned on our bed, the fire from the hearth casting a warm, flickering glow against the walls of our cabin. My gaze fell on the silhouette of Bastian, his quiet, peaceful breathing a stark contrast to the storm raging within me.

What was I if not a fighter? Every fiber of my being, both the wolf and the witch, yearned for control, for harmony. The thought of backing down and submitting to the internal warfare felt akin to relinquishing a part of myself. It felt as though I was giving up, and that realization was more haunting than the daunting prospect of wrestling with my dual nature.

As dawn painted the sky in hues of pink and gold, I came to a decision. A resolute determination coursed through me, as refreshing as a dip in the icy stream that ran by the edge of our village. I would not step back. I would not cower under the pressure. I would face it head-on, challenge the chaos, and make it my own.

I sought Gretel at the break of dawn, her surprised expression at my early visit melting away as I shared my decision. "I want to continue," I asserted, my voice firm despite the butterflies in my stomach. "I need to understand myself, to control the energies that seem to control me."

Gretel studied me for a moment, her gaze lingering on my determined face before she finally nodded. "Very well, Mira," she agreed, a glimmer of pride in her eyes. "We shall continue."

Days turned into weeks, and the turbulence of my training persisted. The trials were grueling, pushing me to the brink of physical and mental exhaustion. But I held on, clinging to the faint glimmer of hope that shone at the end of the tortuous tunnel.

Then, on a day shrouded by ominous clouds, we delved into practicing a potent magic spell that demanded utmost concentration and control. Gretel's words of caution echoed in my mind as I attempted to channel my energies into the intricate spell.

I could feel the power coursing through me, a torrent of energy threatening to consume me from within. But as I reached the climax of the spell, something snapped. A wave of uncontrolled magic erupted from me, a blinding surge of energy that sent Gretel flying back and ripped through our surroundings.

"Mira!" The roaring wind swallowed Gretel's cry, her figure a mere silhouette against the blinding light. A wave of sheer terror crashed over me as the reality of my loss of control sunk in. I had become a threat not just to myself but my loved ones as well.

As darkness seeped into the edges of my vision, the last thing I remember was the destructive wave of magic expanding outwards, turning everything in its path into chaos. And then, there was nothing but the deafening silence.

Chapter Nine

The Inevitable Sacrifice

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