chapter 9

I-I don't understand," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "How is this possible? How could I be a part of something like this?"

My mother's expression softened with understanding, her eyes brimming with a mixture of sadness and compassion. "It's complicated, Clara," she replied, her voice gentle yet tinged with sorrow. "But you were born into this world, just like I was. It's in your blood, a legacy passed down through generations."

My uncle's revelation sent shockwaves through the room, the weight of his words settling upon me like a heavy shroud. Werewolves? My mother and uncle—werewolves? The truth seemed too fantastical to comprehend, yet the gravity in their expressions told me otherwise.

"Your mother and I are also werewolves, but your mom ran away many years ago with your father when she found out that he was her mate and he wasn't a wolf," Uncle explained, his voice carrying a somber tone laced with regret.

The pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place, painting a picture of a past shrouded in secrecy and pain. My mother had fled from a destiny she never wanted, leaving behind her pack and her true identity to forge a new life for herself.

"And those people who attacked you today in your house are what we call starewolves," Uncle continued, his words sending a shiver down my spine. "These are wolves without a pack or cast out from a pack. They do not live by any rule which governs other wolves. For this reason, they have a very unpleasant smell like that of a dead corpse."

His explanation brought clarity to the events of the night, the memory of the foul stench that had filled my senses now making sense in the context of his words.

"That means it were these starewolves that were following me, the smell!" I murmured to myself, connecting the dots in my mind.

"What was that? My dear," my mother asked, her voice drawing me back to the present.

I glanced up, meeting her gaze with a mixture of disbelief and determination. "I think... I think I understand now," I replied, my voice trembling slightly with emotion. "Everything that's happened—it's all because of this world we never knew existed."

My mother nodded, her eyes reflecting the weight of our newfound truth. "Yes, Clara," she said softly. "But now that you know, there's no turning back. We must face this reality head-on, together as a family."

I felt a surge of determination welling up within me, a newfound resolve to embrace the challenges that lay ahead. Despite the uncertainty and fear, I knew that I couldn't turn away from my destiny—not when it was intertwined with the legacy of my family.

"You my dear! Are something I don't quite understand, we are not sure if you have a wolf or not, or what was that strange energy that left your body," My mom said. 

As her words sank in, a wave of fear washed over me, threatening to engulf me in its icy grip. The thought of being bound to a destiny I never asked for filled me with a sense of helplessness unlike anything I had ever known.

"But what does this mean for me?" I asked, my voice trembling with uncertainty. "What am I supposed to do now?"

My mother reached out, her hand finding mine and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You're not alone, Clara," she said, her voice firm with conviction. "We'll navigate this together, as a family. And no matter what challenges lie ahead, I promise you, we'll face them together."

Her words offered little comfort in the face of the unknown, but in that moment, I found solace in her unwavering presence. With her by my side, I knew that I could weather any storm that came my way.

Just as the weight of our conversation settled over us, the door creaked open, and the doctor entered the room, his presence drawing my attention away from the thoughts swirling in my mind. 

He went about his routine check-ups, his movements precise and efficient as he monitored my vitals and assessed my condition.

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor finally gave his nod of approval, indicating that I was fit to be discharged. Relief washed over me as I sat up in bed, eager to leave the sterile confines of the hospital behind.

As we made our way out of the hospital, my mother and uncle flanked me on either side, their supportive presence a comforting reminder of the family bond that held us together. 

Despite the lingering uncertainty of what lay ahead, I couldn't help but feel a sense of reassurance knowing that they were by my side.

Once we arrived at my uncle's house, I sank into the familiar surroundings with a sense of relief, grateful for the warmth and familiarity of home. 

As Clara's uncle ushered them inside, his voice filled with concern as he offered them food and drink to replenish their strength after the ordeal they had been through. The atmosphere in the room was tense, each member of the small group lost in their own thoughts.

Meanwhile, in the dark woods nearby, the three wolves who had attacked Clara and her mother stood by a gnarled tree, their forms obscured by the shadows. A cloaked figure approached them, his features hidden beneath the hood of his cloak.

"We're sorry, sir, but we couldn't complete it," one of the starewolves said, his voice filled with remorse.

The cloaked figure's response was sharp, his disappointment evident even in the darkness. "You're good for nothing," he growled, his tone dripping with disdain. "You had one job—to end her before she discovered her strength. But you, excuse of a wolf, had to trigger her inner power."

The starewolf hung his head, his ears flattened against his skull in shame. "We are truly sorry, sir. But there was something off about that girl," he admitted. "She was the only one who picked up our scent and could see us, despite the blocking stone magic."

The cloaked figure fell silent for a moment, his thoughts shrouded in mystery. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he dismissed the wolves with a wave of his hand. "Go," he commanded. "Return to the shadows and await further orders. This is not over yet."

As the starewolves slunk away into the darkness, a sense of foreboding settled over the forest like a heavy fog. The cloaked figure remained behind, his gaze fixed on the distant lights of Clara's uncle's house.