Chapter 85: She Can See the Future
Maeve
The village was buzzing with activity as I followed Mom into the center of the rows of cottages and buildings housing the shops and market. Gretchen had bundled her up in a thick, heavy red wool coat and a matching hat, the color a stark
contrast to the snow and white-washed buildings. Mom was barking orders to the warriors who had surrounded a group of a dozen or so weary-looking people, strangers.
“Who are they? How did they get here?” I turned to Gemma, who shrugged, her face lined with suspicion.
She had heard the commotion from her house and came to fetch us, but the warriors had beaten her there, and we were already in the driveway when Gemma arrived. She had given George to Gretchen and then followed us down to the village, where the warrior had gathered the unfamiliar group into the snow-covered market square.
“They shouldn’t be out here; it’s freezing. Take them up to the castle. Offer food and water. Now!” Mom’s voice rang out through the square.
She sounded every ounce the queen, and I couldn’t help but smile to myself as I watched her commanding the warriors. The group began to move, the warriors herding them away. But an elderly woman had stopped walking, separating from the group.
She was looking past me, her eyes fixated on something behind me. I turned to look over my shoulder in the direction of her gaze and saw a young woman standing at the edge of the market square, her black hair dappled with snowflakes.
“Who is that?” I asked Gemma, who turned to look.
“Oh, that’s Hanna.”
“Hanna of Red Lakes?”
Hanna’s gaze shifted from the elderly woman to me, and I quickly turned back around, a blush rising to my cheeks. I vaguely remember Hanna from when her family visited. She was a year older than me, but aside from a formal introduction when their family arrived, I didn’t think I’d seen her for the rest of their short-lived trip. She had been nowhere to be seen when Aaron fell from the tree.
“Yeah, she’s Rowan’s mate. I’m sure someone told you,” Gemma said.
“I feel like I’ve only been told snippets of what’s been happening here, Gem. Who are these people? They didn’t come by boat. That means they would’ve had to come through-through the forest? How is that possible?” The old roads were so overgrown now; it would take so long for anyone to get through that way.
Gemma glanced at me, somewhat shocked. “Did your dad not tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“Maeve? Is that really you?” A familiar male voice cut through
the air, and I found myself paralyzed by surprise. It couldn’t
be.
“O-Otto?” I said, my voice wavering as a man walked toward me dressed in warrior garb. He stopped walking a few feet from where Gemma and I were standing, looking.me up and down. I wasn’t sure I recognized him at first, but then his mouth twitched into a wide smile. “Oh, my Goddess. How?”
“Oh, Maeve. It’s so good to see you!” He closed the distance between us, taking my hand in his and squeezing it. “I heard you were home. I’ve been busy, I should have come up to the house right away but it was my son’s birthday,”
“Son?” I was stunned.
Thadn’t seen Otto in fifteen years, not since he went with the expedition party to explore the Eastern Mountains that separated Mirage and Winter Forest. We all thought he was dead, along with Gemma’s mother, Seraphine.
“I have five children. My wife, Shelly, she,” he paused, looking between Gemma and me to where Hanna had been standing.
I turned to look at her again, an unusual feeling creeping over me. Her gaze was still locked on the elderly woman, who was being rounded up with the rest of the group.
my shoulder,
into the pockets of her jacket. “Do you know
sound crazy?” Hanna replied,
still at her words,
she
“Where’s Rowan?” she asked, looking toward
to the castle with
against mine sending a ripple of familiar energy
and not when
and the sun had already set behind the clouds. The castle grounds were washed in yellow light from the lanterns dotted
grand foyer, taking my hand and leading me away from Hanna and Gemma.
a while. And then… do you know who these
now in the library. I think we should
“Why?”
thumb tracing a circle in the palm of
the people Una talked about, the ones Lycaon left behind when he was fleeing
the library. I wondered cynically if we were ever going to have an ounce
the surface and his body leaning forward as he conversed with the same elderly woman I
worn rags. Someone had covered her with a thick blanket and given her a steaming
as we came into the room, nodding tightly as Troy stationed us against the wall near the door.
turned to me, looking me up and down with interest before turning back to Dad, settling
closed her hands around the mug of
contradicted her appearance. She was small, old, and frail, but her voice was youthful and
fingers on the table, looking at Mom, who was
why you’re here,” Mom said stoically and unblinking, tilting her head toward Dad. “We won’t risk the peace of our pack for unknown
are,” the woman said, pointing a
happened to your
“Dead. Took him long enough, the old bastard. He outlived his sons and grandsons. His great-grandsons were fighting
“Who prevailed?” Dad asked.
them killed each
the title, exactly?” Mom’s voice had a tinge of unease to
to Julien in some way. So anyone could be the Alpha, any man that is. Carl is the clear choice because he has
was stunned into silence. I felt nervous sweat forming along my brow as the room seemed to tighten
is the dark-haired girl from the market? I need to speak with her,” said the
shook her head, not
I said, not meaning to speak
at me, her eyes narrowing on mine. “I’ll tell you everything
“Why?” Mom asked defensively.
true leader of Lycenna, as her mother should have been. And her grandmother before her, my sister. The ones
Mom’s voice wavered, and Dad stood, motioning to Troy to get Hanna
daughter, is she not? Leera was my niece. My sister left the pack when Leera was just an infant, hiding away somewhere in the West. If that dark-haired
stomach tightening into a contraction as I watched
it to you? Why are
before the Dream Dancer could ravage what was left of our pack, those true followers of Lycaon. The rest-Carl and his people well, they
has a familiar. I can feel it. The dog I saw in the village,
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