Witchy World's Lost Alpha

Responsibilities and Snacks

Hunnie,

Thanks to Evie, the coven all knew my paternal parents and grandparents were all users of the dark magic. It's in my blood too.

Intertwining the dark magic with light magic spells, and then using a dark object to seal off the rest of the bad voodoo, was my way to control it. I was exceptionally good.

No one, not even Tenn or Lenah knows I have a dark object. I'm hoping one day they can ask how I harness the power or keep myself safe, because they they would know, it's simply the 24 karat gold bracelet I've worn on my ankle since 6th grade.

The anklet was given to me by my adoptive mother the day she picked me up from the orphanage. She always stressed and bragged that it was hollow and could hold magic essences of any type. Blessed by many monks and chanted over by many witches, it was strong enough to separate the bad from my body.

When I was 11, I chose to give it the dark magic's essence. It was an accidental night.

I was hurting.

I was hurting, because I just could NOT fit in with the rest of my middle school covened witches.

I was bullied, shunned for not being born into their coven and never taken seriously.

"Oh you come from a dark clan. You can't be a light witch in our coven!" They'd say.

The pain must've ignited something when I recited my very first dark spell.

Dark Protection.

Protection from the bullies and protection from myself.

Others would call this, selling your mind and body to the darkness, but I didn't sell it, I gave it a home in my bracelet. I asked for protection of my mind and soul in exchange for a home where they reside close to me. Making me very strong headed mentally.

That's what the dark magic liked.

An eye for an eye.

A sacrifice.

A host.

I say blessings and exorcise my anklet weekly, but on those days, I'm feeling spiritually exhausted. That's why I sleep so much, always trying to get my body to catch up.

      🌤🌤🌤🌤🌤🌤🌤🌤🌤🌤🌤🌤

Coming back to my senses, it seemed that the wolf could sense I was a bit sad, because he came right up to the edge of my bed and rested his head on my legs.

Looking up at me with his quivering eyebrows and deep green river eyes. I couldn't help but to let out a sob and hug his head.

I was even being pitied by a wolf.

'Sigh'

"Awe, thank you Wolfy. I appreciate your love."

Running my fingers through his fur, I was imagining him being a very old, old wolf, since the size of him was rather large.

He had to be about 200 plus pounds and his whole body could easily tower over my 5'4, 145 pound frame.

I got down on the ground and sat besides Wolfy. Admiring the purple highlights in his fur. It feels familiar.

He laid down on his back the way a dog does when they want their belly rubbed. I examined his lightly tanned belly with a few little spots here and there, reaching mto rub his chest seeing as his wolfy parts covered 50% of his abdomen.