This is a book of spells.
Magical spells with formulas penned down like recipes. My heart pounds as I discover a whole new world in the pagesof the journal, finally landing on the part where the owner wrote about her daily life.
The first real journal entry is dated nearly fifty years ago, and describes the writer meeting a man whom she fell in love with while she was living an isolated life as a werewolf and a…
“Witch hybrid…?” I murmur in confusion.
Whoever this wolf was, she had an entirely different life before the one in the pack she joined as her beloved's mate.
She didn't always belong to a pack, but fell in love with someone and put her witch abilities in the past. It was a part of her that became fully hidden when she found out she was pregnant with her mate's child.
What's most shocking is reading about the abilities she had as a witch—potion brewing for healing purposes, energy channeling, and, most strikingly, foreseeing the future through visions.
A shocked gasp falls from my lips as my fingers become numb, forcing me to look up and stare at the window as the sun begins to greet the sky outside. The gentle rays whisper on the lace curtains, as if shedding light on my newfound discovery.
It's a lot to take in that a werewolf could possibly be mixed with a witch. I had no idea that they could exist, that witches and werewolves mated at all.
What's more is that I have no idea why the journal was in my cottage. Did it belong to whoever lived there before my parents? Did my parents even know about it?
Does it have anything to do with the strange nightmares I’ve been having and being guided to find the journal in the first place?
As I continue reading through the journal, the owner explains that she was a white witch whose abilities were only used for good. But she had to hide them, because the pack would never accept what they couldn't understand.
Taking a deep breath after what feels like a lifetime of learning more about the mysterious woman who only reveals her initials and makes no mention of her name or her mate's, I lift the necklace. The gold catches the sun's gentle morning rays peeking through the holes in the lace, and I feel drawn toward the sigil that now appears like roots.
It feels like the most natural thing in the world to put the necklace around my neck, the sigil magically flashing with a golden glow as if it recognizes me.
Are those terrible dreams and my heightened intuition linked to whoever the owner of the journal was?
Am I like the woman, A.B.?
It seems highly unlikely, since her visions were described as occurring at any time of the day, not just dreams or nightmares while she was asleep.
I gulp hard as I replace the journal in the box and hide it underneath my bed, refusing to believe that it's even remotely possible that I'm a witch like the woman in the journal.
From what I've read, the woman sounds like she had the softest, warmest heart and loved her mate dearly.
My heart has turned cold again, and I'm nothing like her. It's just too much to consider right now, and tears roll down my cheeks as I think about my parents and miss the warmth of their arms.
It would have dampened the blow of getting my heart broken a second time, and I could have asked them about the journal and if they knew who it belonged to.
Still, it wouldn't make any sense for me to be like this woman. I have to consider that there's nothing special about me.
It's no wonder Tyler keeps rejecting our true mate bond.
I wipe my tears and decide that all I can do for now is build a life for Noah and me, as I have done up until now. In a month, he'll be four, and he'll want to know more about what being a werewolf means.
If that means forging a life for myself in Portland amongst the Moonshine Pack, then so be it. That's probably why Tyler suddenly wants me to take a job at the center, so I can be self-sufficient and forget that there's anything between us.
It's not the first time I’ve had to pick myself up again, and the question of my true identity is at the back of my mind, so I decide not to linger on it right now. I need to get out of this house.
A.B. might have been lucky in love, but I'm not.
Chapter 16 - Tyler
The sun kissing my cheek wakes me up, but it's far from welcome as it starkly contrasts the coldness I'm feeling.
Like stone, every inch of my body is stiff from the restless night I've had, hardly getting any sleep with so much on my mind. I check the time and decide to get an early start to my day.
