The same name as my great-grandmother.
There was a single thin line that connected her to a husband, but instead of a name, a violent, almost angry scrawl stated:Outside of Coven. Looking closer at Dierdre’s name, I saw, in that same furious scribble:Excommunicated.
My fingers ran across the name, then that single word beneath it. Whoever had created the tree had been so angry at Dierdre’s choice of partner that they had refused to even put their name down. It was my great-grandfather, Jonas Porter, on my father’s maternal side.
My father had never spoken much about his side of the family. I wondered if he even knew this piece of history. Had Jonas and Dierdre kept it a secret from their children? Had Dierdre even told Jonas? It would explain why no one in my family had ever mentioned anything remotely like this.
I stared down at the name, letting the ramifications wash over me. I had witch blood. My ancestor came from a coven. Magic had gone through generations of my family until it landed with me.
Out of curiosity, I went back to the same section, pulling similar books off the shelf, feeling a sudden desperation to know more about my family.
At first, it seemed fruitless. I learned that the Williams family was known for its affinity for water. They’d joined the Spring Coven in hopes that they could discover a rumored underground spring, a source of magic in the area. If they had found it, it had since been lost again. I had never so much as heard of any magic water, beyond the falls that could supposedly heal injuries and illnesses.
The Spring Coven itself was still around. I had heard the name on more than one occasion, as it was one of the largercovens in the States, but they mostly kept to themselves near the edge of Adobe Creek.
The only other interesting bit was a random sentence in a book, discussing the passing of powers from generation to generation.
Though it is not an inevitability, when witch blood mixes with other witches, the powers of one parent often dominate over the other. Marrying a human, though frowned upon in most covens, allows a guarantee of the single power of the magical parent to transfer to children without ambiguity as to which powers they will develop. When a witch pairs with another supernatural creature (vampires, shifters, warlocks, etc.), the witch's power may become diluted, weakening over the generations.
I reread this sentence, letting the implications sink in. My grandmother had been half witch. I guessed that explained where the magic came from, and why it was so weak.
Except that wasn’t entirely true. I hadn’t been entirely honest with Elias. Ever since the mating ceremony, I felt stronger. I hadn’t experimented much with my powers, being too preoccupied with other things, and too worried about what would happen if Elias found out about them. But the latter was no longer an issue.
Could the magic become stronger after a bond? The book said it wasn’t inevitable, and parts of the book seemed horrifically outdated. But as I searched further, I couldn’t find any other pieces of information that could shed some light on why I had been feeling stronger.
I glanced at the clock on my phone and blinked. Without any windows in this room, I had lost track of time. I had been in here for nearly three hours already. With more than a littlereluctance, I put those books back on the shelf and returned to my original goal.
It took a few minutes, but I finally struck gold when I came to a small section of tomes on magical creatures. I heaved a couple of them off their spot on the shelf and thumped them on the table.
After about thirty minutes, I finally came across a useful segment.
Wraiths are malicious creatures, feeding on despair and chaos. Their only purpose is to create destruction, their only desire is to gain power and grow stronger, typically through causing more suffering.
Though not much is known about what creates wraiths or how they are formed, it is typically assumed that they are manifestations of suffering and dread. The greater the despair, the stronger they become, and the more often they appear.
Elias had mentioned that the wraith had been showing up more frequently. I also knew that the drought in the area had caused a lot of stress and turmoil for the population. I remembered what Grace’s wolf had sensed. Something bad was coming, and getting worse.
I kept reading.
As sinister as they are, and despite their often translucent or half-corporeal form, they can be harmed by physical attacks. However, these will only weaken them, leaving the beings to retreat and strengthen again, using more despair and suffering. The only way to kill the creatures is with magic, and even then, it takes a skilled witch to ensure their full destruction.
My pulse raced with excitement. Only magic could kill it. Sucking in a breath, my mind reeled as I thought of the implications and the pitfalls. The pack was going to need magic in order to defeat the wraith. A pack that notoriously distrusted witches and their ilk. A pack whose luna was part witch.
You have a purpose here. You belong. You are needed. Wait, and all shall be revealed in time.
The rushing words of the falls ran through my ears, pounding there. And all of a sudden, the reason I had been fated to be luna, the reason the falls had begged me to stay, the reason all of this had happened, was because of the wraith. The Oracle hadn’t been wrong when she picked me. I had a purpose here.
I was here to help the town, it seemed. But that still meant I had to convince Elias and the elders to trust me, despite their inherent dislike of witches.
What are they going to say when they learn the truth?
The question twisted and swirled in my head as my insides churned with unease. I didn’t know how the elders would respond. Yes, I was their luna, but that didn’t mean they would trust me after they learned the truth.
The elders would be furious. More than likely, at least one of them would demand my removal as luna. I didn’t know how the Oracle would react.
Even if the pack hated it, though, Elias would stand up for me.
If I had thought those words a couple of weeks ago, I would have laughed. I would have thought there was no way Elias, of all people, would be in my corner. But things had changed.
