The Last Spirit Wolf (Elena Norwood)

-Vera-

The rest of the day and night, I was left alone. Marcus only occasionally showed up to bring me food and water, which I ate and drank. I don't even care that it might have poison in it anymore. I have to eat to regain my strengths, not to mention I now have to Being left alone, however, did very little to appease the pure anger I feel towards Harriet right now. If she was in the cell next to mine, I would have already figured out a way to kill her in her sleep.

consider that I'm pregnant; I have to look after my health more zealously.

How could we not think that this was a possibility? Why would we be so stupid as to allow Liam to handle her. How had she made it to the witches, anyway?

The longer I'm here, the more the anger festers, and I let it. In the end, anger might be the emotion I hold on to to make it out of here.

I barely get some sleep this time, with the cold stone providing very little in the ways of comfort.

I lay on my back mostly, thinking of ways I can get out and what the Witch Mother possibly could have meant when she said 'it's finally happening.' Could she be talking about reproducing my kind? Afterall, wasn't her main goal to create an army of us?

I also spend the rest of the night trying to reach my aunt and grandmother, anyone really, to help me, but it's no use. With my wolf preoccupied with the baby and my energy being drained, I can't contact them through her or my dreams. Afterall, it takes a lot of energy to appear in their realm.

On impulse. I get up and go to the cell door. I mean it's just a spell, right? Maybe I can break it if I try hard enough. I'm a freaking Spirit Wolf after all, this should be a piece of cake.

I put my hand on the lock, closing my eyes and concentrating on the magical presence of the spell, just like my aunt taught me. I take several deep breathes, steadying my mind and emotions. But after trying for a long while, it's no use. It's as if there is no spell at all. Wait, could it be?

I push the door rods, hard, willing it to open. But of course, it doesn't budge; it couldn't be that easy.

I exhale, frustrated, and start pacing the entirety of the cell, the chains dragging behind me, trying to come up with a plan.

Realistically, again, my only option is to wait until they take me out again, but what then? The heavy chains that are still around my ankles and wrists are impossible to break, not without my wolf anyway. And even if I do, I still have to somehow make it past the Witch Mother and her two assistants.

"Would you quit it?" I hear a voice coming from a few cells down.

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I growl.

"Oh, shut the fuck up," she says.

"Me?! You stupid bitch! Do you realize all you managed to do is get both of us killed?!" I yell at her, furious.

"And do *you* realize that none of this would have happened if *you* hadn't come along?!" She yells back at me, coming forth in her cell.

"Oh, so you're not stupid, it's even worse, you're fucking delusional! I didn't force you to choose Alistair over your mate, you idiot! You chose your own path, and you seriously f****d up!"

"Is that what you think this is about?" She asks me; I can hear the smile in her voice.

I remain quiet, frowning as I wait for her explanation.

"He changed the "minute" you showed your stupid face in the Castle, and to not even be marked? Of course, he would take a liking to you! Even if you're just some stupid wolf!" She yells. My frown deepens.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I ask her.

"I was going to be his Queen! But we couldn't be *really* together because I had a mate. Can you imagine how his men would view him if he took someone else's mate? That's wy he sent Liam off to the woods alone to danger many, many times. He wanted him dead so we could be together! That's until you came along, and everything changed. He only wanted you because you were unmated. Why else would he want a f*****g mutt?" she hisses.

I remain still, processing what she just said.

Harriet was jealous... of me... because I *attracted* Alistair...?

I start laughing, cathartically, for a long moment. I have to bend down and nurse my belly because it hurts from laughing so much. I have tears forming in my eyes.

She *actually* believes that Alistair *wanted* her, and was not just using her. In truth, he could have had Liam killed any time if that's what he really wanted, but he didn't, because he was just using her and her having a mate was the perfect excuse to not commit to her. When my laughing subsides, I wipe the tears off my eyes and sigh.

It's not even worth arguing with Harriet anymore; this woman is beyond delusional, and there's no arguing with that.

"Besides, they're only holding me here until they prove you're the one they're looking for," she continues.

I roll my eyes, but don't respond. They already tested me and she's still in there, because as the Witch Mother put it, we are of no use to her unless it's for sacrifices; but I'll let her find that out by herself.

I go back to the back of my sell, sitting against the wall. There really is no escaping this, is there?

I briefly close my eyes, but I'm awoken by the loud opening of the door.

"Rise and shine, darling!" The Witch Mother comes in, a dance in her step.

It's morning already?

Helena and Marcus come in right after her, carrying all sorts of finely decorated crystal jars.

They carefully place them on one of the tables the Witch Mother has prepared.

"Marcus," she says.

He nods and makes his way to me, opening the cell.

Again, I watch carefully how he managed to open it, but he didn't use a key. Even if I didn't detect any magic, I'm sure it's a spell.

He bends down, grabbing my chains and dragging me out by them. It takes him very little effort since I'm compliant. I still have to figure out what this witch wants from me.

He puts me in the same position as before, lifting my arms and pulling on a lever to essentially make me dangle off the floor. It's incredibly painful.

"Very well," The Witch Mother says, "we can begin."

She looks up to me, smiling warmly.

I narrow my eyes at her, but say nothing.

"Mistress, I did good, didn't I? She's the one you were looking for?" Harriet says from her cell.

"Yes, child, you did very good," the Witch Mother replies, not even looking at her.

"So, you can let me out! That was the deal," Harriet pleads.

"All in due time, child, we do after all need a sacrifice for the final spell to work, and, though. you're nothing special, you'll do," she replies, sweetly.

I turn to Harriet just in time to see her sink to her feet; whatever hope she had left that the witches would take her in has suddenly vanished.

"As for you," the Witch Mother turns to me, again with a smile, "I have bigger plans for you, my dearest."

She extends a hand to the side and Helena quickly approaches her with the knife she showed me yesterday and one of the finely decorated crystal vases. "Let's begin," she says.

She approaches me with the knife, plunging it into my leg without warning.

I squirm in pain. I don't think I've ever felt pain like this ever in my life. I don't know how to explain it, but it's as if that knife cut straight through my bone and then some; though from the amount of blood spilling out, the wound isn't that serious.

The With Mother puts the vase against my leg, collecting my blood. Once she's satisfied, she caps it off and hands it to Marcus, licking the remaining blood on the knife with her tongue.

I turn my head to look at what they collected, and sure enough, it's blood, but it looks... iridescent... in the crystal vase? Just like my wolf's coat.

I frown at it.

"That's your essence, child," the Witch Mother explains, "all living beings' essences are carried through their blood, witches and warlocks are no different. Only our essence is slightly sparked with magic, but yours," she holds the knife against the fire in the middle of the room and sure enough, the blood on it also appears iridescent, "yours isn't only *sprinkled* with magic, it *is* magic."

She smiles at the blood on the knife and then she turns to Marcus, nodding.

Marcus promptly leaves, taking the vase with him.

After several minutes, when my wound has already healed, Marcus returns, a shocked look on his face.

"Well?" The Witch Mother asks him.

He nods slowly, incredulous.

Helena squeals, jumping up in the air in excitement.

The Witch Mother claps.

"Very well, then, we proceed," she says, taking another vase from the table.

"Why are you doing this?" I ask her.

"Ah, she speaks," the Witch Mother says, coming to stand in front of me with an even bigger vase, "because you, my dear, will be our savior. You and you alone, will return witch kind to its former glory."

She smiles at me affectionately, quickly jabbing the extractionem knife into my other leg as I once again squirm in pain.