Chapter 117
The first rays of dawn were breaking through the dense forest canopy when I emerged from the packhouse. The cool morning air carried a crispness that made my skin prickle, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It felt like a promise—a new day, a new start.
Jake had been quieter than usual since last night. I could still feel the weight of his anger and fear, but we hadn’t spoken about the spell or the vision. Not yet. My head was still spinning from what Esther had shown me, and I wasn’t sure how to explain it without causing more tension between us.
The sound of voices from the communal hall drew me out of my thoughts. When I stepped inside, the room was already buzzing. Althea stood at the head of the table, a large map spread out in front of her. Fatima, Sophie, and several pack members were gathered around, their faces a mixture of curiosity and determination.
Jake was there too, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable. His eyes met mine as I walked in, and for a brief moment, the tension between us softened.
“What’s going on?” I asked, moving to stand beside Althea.
“We’ve found something,” Althea said, her tone clipped with excitement. She pointed to the map. “Or rather, the spell you did gave us a clue.”
I swallowed hard, still uneasy about how the spell had played out. “What kind of clue?”
Althea picked up a piece of parchment covered in intricate symbols. “When you were in the trance, you kept repeating a phrase—‘The White Peaks.’ Does that mean anything to you?”
I shook my head, my brows furrowing. “No. I don’t think so.”
“It could be a location,” Sophie suggested, leaning over the map. “Or a landmark.”
Jake, who had been silent until now, stepped forward. “White Peaks isn’t far from here. It’s an old mountain range about a day’s travel north. But it’s dangerous—rugged terrain, unpredictable weather.”
“That doesn’t sound like a coincidence,” Althea said, her eyes gleaming. “If the coven is hiding, they’d pick a place like that.”
“But why would I mention it?” I asked, my voice tinged with frustration. “I don’t even remember saying it.”
“The spell tapped into your subconscious,” Althea explained. “It’s possible Esther planted the clue in your mind. Either as a warning or a trap.”
Jake’s jaw tightened. “A trap sounds more likely.”
“We don’t know that,” Fatima interjected. “But it’s a lead, and we need to follow it.”
The rest of the morning was spent preparing for the journey. Althea poured over ancient texts, looking for any mention of the White Peaks or their connection to magic. Sophie gathered supplies, while Fatima, ever the strategist, mapped out the safest route.
I spent most of the time avoiding Jake. I could feel his eyes on me as I moved through the room, but I wasn’t ready to confront him. Not yet.
It wasn’t until midday, when the room had emptied slightly, that he finally cornered me.
“We need to talk,” he said, his voice low but firm.
I sighed, crossing my arms. “About the spell?”
“About everything,” he said. “About you putting yourself in danger without telling me. About what Esther showed you.”
“It was my choice, Jake,” I said, meeting his gaze. “And it worked. We have a lead now.”
“At what cost?” he snapped, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “You’re keeping things from me, Prisca. I’m your mate. I need to protect you.”
“I don’t need protecting,” I shot back. “I need to do what’s right for the pack—for everyone.”
His expression softened, the anger giving way to something more vulnerable. “I just don’t want to lose you.”
I reached out, taking his hand. “You won’t. But you have to trust me, Jake. Trust that I know what I’m doing.”
He sighed, nodding reluctantly. “Alright. But I’m coming with you to the White Peaks. No arguments.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I said with a small smile.
\---
By the time we set out, the sun was high in the sky, casting long shadows over the forest. Our group was small—me, Jake, Althea, Fatima, and two warriors from the pack. The journey was quiet at first, the tension from earlier still lingering.
As we traveled, the forest began to thin, giving way to rocky terrain. The air grew colder, sharper, as if the mountains themselves were warning us to turn back.
“Tell me more about these peaks,” I said to Jake as we walked side by side.
“They’re ancient,” he said. “There are stories about them—legends. Some say they’re cursed, others that they’re sacred. Either way, they’ve been abandoned for centuries.”
“Cursed and sacred,” I murmured. “Sounds like the perfect hiding spot for a coven.”
Jake nodded, but his expression was grim.
\---
As we approached the base of the mountains, the first real clue revealed itself. A narrow trail wound its way up the rocky slope, marked by symbols carved into the stone.
“These symbols,” Althea said, crouching to examine one. “They’re wards. Powerful ones.”
“Wards for what?” Fatima asked, her voice tinged with unease.
“To keep people out,” Althea said. “Or to keep something in.”
Jake frowned, his hand tightening on the hilt of his sword. “Do you think the coven set these?”
Althea nodded. “It’s likely. They’re old, but the magic is still strong.”
“So we’re on the right track,” I said, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety forming in my stomach.
Althea stood, brushing off her hands. “The trail is clear, but we need to be careful. These wards could be part of a larger protection spell.”
We continued up the trail, the air growing colder with each step. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the sound of our footsteps on the rocky path.
Near the summit, we found the second clue—a small altar carved into the rock. It was simple, but the symbols etched into it matched those on the trail.
“This is it,” Althea said, her voice trembling with excitement. “This altar is connected to the coven. I can feel it.”
“How do we use it?” I asked.
Althea hesitated, her eyes scanning the symbols. “It’s a marker. A way to call them, or to find them. But we’ll need to activate it.”
“With what?” Jake asked, his tone wary.
Althea looked at me, her expression apologetic. “Blood. Yours, Prisca. You’re the key.”
I swallowed hard, my stomach churning. “Of course I am.”
Jake immediately stepped forward, his hand on my arm. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Jake—”
“No,” he said, his voice firm. “We don’t know what this altar will do. It could hurt you—or worse.”
“We’ve come this far,” I said, pulling away from him. “I’m not stopping now.”
“Prisca, please,” he said, his voice softening. “There has to be another way.”
“There isn’t,” Althea said gently. “If we want to find the coven, we have to do this.”
Jake’s jaw clenched, his frustration palpable. But he didn’t argue further.
I stepped forward, taking a deep breath as I drew my dagger. The blade was cold against my palm as I made a small cut, letting a few drops of blood fall onto the altar.
The effect was immediate. The symbols on the altar began to glow, pulsing with an eerie, otherworldly light. The air around us seemed to shift, growing heavier.
And then, a voice—Esther’s voice—echoed through the air.
“Welcome, little one. You’re getting closer.”
Her laughter sent shivers down my spine, but the light on the altar began to form a shape—a map.
“There,” Althea said, pointing to the glowing image. “That’s where they are.”
Esther’s voice lingered in my mind, her laughter a dark promise of what was to come.
We had found the coven’s location, but at what cost?
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