195
David
Next time, I would just take Lucy to a fairy grove, just the two of us. To be fair, it wasn’t Amelia’s fault she had terrible timing. And it wasn’t the organizer’s fault for sending her with me, but none of that made it any better. When I got back, the mood had gone, and I hadn’t known what to say to Lucy about Amelia. Lucy looked uncomfortable, so I hadn’t brought it up yet. It definitely ruined the rest of the trip. I couldn’t decide if I should be upset about it or relieved that I didn’t cross a line that neither of us was ready to cross yet.
That evening, after I’d returned to the Blood Moon Estate, I descended the hidden staircase to the secret room. I solved the puzzle and entered the room, noting that the air inside was colder than before. The crystal necklace glinted in the darkness, emanating an otherworldly glow that seemed to beckon me forward and push me away.
I set my magical analysis kit underneath the single torch, grabbed the necklace, and sat down. The kit was equipped with various instruments that could help me decipher the properties and origins of magical objects. As I focused my attention on the necklace, I decided on the order of the tests I would run.
I knew enough about the Moon Goddess, the legend, and bits and pieces of the truth to know to be cautious, but I also knew that it held the answers to a lot of the questions people had about werewolves.
The first test involved using a spectral analysis spell to detect any magical imprints or enchantments on the crystal. My magical energy flowed into the necklace through the scanning focus, forming a delicate web of threads that intertwined with its energy. However, the results were inconclusive. It was odd, but I moved on to the next test, which involved subjecting the necklace to a series of elemental alignments. I channeled elemental energies one by one – earth, air, fire, water – each element resonating with the crystal in a unique way.
Yet, the test didn’t come up with an answer about the necklace’s elemental properties either.
As the hours passed, I found myself getting more and more frustrated. Something was thwarting my attempts to understand the necklace.
I leaned back against the stone wall with a sigh.
There were so many theories about who crafted the necklace and its purpose, but there was no proof. I didn’t even know how it had gotten down here. I couldn't shake the feeling that the answers to these questions were crucial, not just for me but for the safety of the members of the White Moon Pack and the supernatural community at large.
When the last test failed, I huffed and decided to take a different approach.
Sitting cross-legged in the secret room, I cradled the necklace in my hands. Its smooth surface felt cool against my skin, resonating with a power that seemed both familiar and elusive. I closed my eyes, centering myself and allowing my magic to flow into the crystal directly.
Almost immediately, there was a response. It was as if the crystal recognized my touch and was eager to communicate even as it wanted to push me away.
It felt a lot like Lucy, but the sensation wasn't just a connection to energy; it was a link to something deeper, a well of emotions and memories that had been hidden within the necklace.
As my magic mingled with the crystal's essence, I felt a surge of images and emotions flood into my mind. It was disorienting at first, like being thrust into the midst of someone else's experiences. I saw a long, dark corridor stretching ahead, illuminated only by flickering torches. The air was thick with tension, and the sound of footsteps on stone filled the air. Someone was panting a soft, desperate little sound. I saw a silhouette dancing along the wall.
It was a woman. Was she the previous owner of the necklace?
Her heart raced, and fear and determination filled her. She was racing against time, driven by a desperate hope to reach the end of the corridor. I felt her every footstep and heard her every gasp for breath as if they were my own.
The corridor seemed endless, the walls closing in around her. She was growing weaker. And then, just as she reached the end, I felt a surge of terror. Her emotions crashed into me – a potent mix of agony and resignation. My skin sparkled and clenched tight as if something was invading me.
I recognized the sensation: the woman had been cursed in her last moments. Maybe she had been trying to outrun it setting in. Her life hung by a fragile thread.
“Xavier,” I heard her say.
I gasped as I heard thundering footsteps coming closer, then the warmth of arms around me. Then, I saw my father’s face, more than a decade younger, sleepless. His arms were filled with helplessness and heart-wrenching grief.
“Delilah,” he whispered, stroking her face. “Just hold on. I—“
She pressed the necklace into his hand. His eyes widened.
“Be safe, and take care of David.”
I was thrown out of her body, standing to one side, watching as he leaned down to give her one last kiss. Through her eyes, I witnessed her life slipping away, the world around her fading into darkness. His face, etched with sorrow and loss, kept her gaze, holding and rocking her until she stopped breathing. The weight of his emotions, his anguish, seeped into me, leaving me breathless and overwhelmed.
As the vision subsided, I opened my eyes, my heart pounding. I knew that what I had experienced was a fragment of the past – a snippet of the life of the woman who had once possessed the crystal necklace. Her story, her pain, had become intertwined with the very essence of the necklace itself.
More than that, I realized that woman had been my mother. I looked down at the necklace, my mind whirling. If it was just a conduit for power, it would not hold memories that way, so it had to be something more than that.
I shuddered. My eyes filled with tears. I hadn’t been prepared to hear my mother’s voice, to feel her pain and know that her last thoughts had been of me and my father. I sucked in a shuddering breath. The weight of that knowledge felt like it could suffocate me. Blinking my eyes open, I found myself back in the present moment, the memory's vividness fading like a dream upon waking. I tried to shake it off, but I kept seeing my father’s grief-struck face. Slowly, I could see her face, too, as if through my father’s eyes, looking up at him as if he were her world.
I hunched over as the pain of their mating bond died and threatened to drag him under. I heard him panting and almost crying out. I felt it surging through me, nearly dragging me under.
Then, I felt a light washing over me, warm and pushing back the pain. I looked up at the soft, ethereal light that seemed to materialize before me. My heart quickened as I realized that she was there. Delilah, my mother, the same woman who had guided me down here before, was there. She smiled at me warmly, motherly—proudly as if she had seen everything I was and was happy.
Standing beside her was another figure – one I recognized instantly. My father. Their appearances were different from the way I remembered them, a blend of the familiar and the otherworldly. His face was years younger than when he died. Yet, there was no mistaking his face.
His eyes glowed the same purple mine did. The woman's gaze held a warmth that seemed to reach into my very soul, while my father's eyes were alight with an emotion I had rarely seen when he was alive: happiness. The deep contentment and love shining in his eyes left me speechless.
They were here together somehow. And knowing what I know now, all the little bits of my life, my pain, and everything I had gone through with him made a little more sense.
He had been fighting death with everything he had in him, and now he was free to be with her the way all the stories said they should be.
Mates.
A soft smile touched my lips as I watched them together.
They were real mates, the same kind of mates that shifters had. My eyes widened as I closed my fist over the necklace.
Like shifters.
My parents… were shifters. It was a moment of pure revelation, the kind that changed everything you thought you knew.
Didn’t that mean that I was a shifter, not a werewolf?
And then, as if sensing my understanding, my father turned his gaze toward me. His eyes met mine, brimming with pride and a sense of peace. My mother reached out and touched my cheek, her touch light and comforting.
“We love you.”
I shuddered at the message that washed through my mind.
As their forms began to fade, their presence remained imprinted on my heart. I blinked back tears and held myself back from scrambling after them.
They had given me all they could.
I looked down at the necklace again. It was my turn to do the rest.
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