Of Mates and Liars ( Bound by fate 1)

Chapter 22: Whispers in the Fog

Raven-black hair, cat-like eyes, a button nose, and high cheekbones. Laith's mom looks almost identical to the witch in the cell. I walk closer to her with Thunder beside me. She extends her hand in greeting. "I'm Sharon," she introduces herself.
"Lauren," I say, knowing she already recognizes me. "And this is Thunder," I introduce.
She nods in greeting to him before turning her attention back to me. "I can help you remove the witchcraft plaguing you," she says.

"Are you a witch?" I ask.
She laughs. "No, I'm not a witch. The only reason I'm offering you help is because you've helped my son through a hard time in his life, and he seems to be very fond of you."
"How do I know that I can trust you?" I ask.
"You don't," she says, pointing to the bench. "Come, sit."
I follow, my hope of being free from the magic placed on me causing me to act recklessly.
"My mother was a witch," she explains. "She was always a very evil woman and an even worse mother."
"What did she do to you?" I ask, trying to tap into her energy source.
"She used to..." She stops mid-sentence. "You're good, I'll give you that. A powerful empath, and the fact that you're still trying to heal others despite your situation is a good sign," she says.

"What do you mean?" I question.
"People who have partaken in the use of magic, knowingly like Alpha Aiden, or have unknowingly been victims of it, start to develop symptoms of a darkened soul."
Darkened soul? I mean, I did just lock a witch up to starve and somehow justified it.
"By the look on your face, I take it you've already started to experience it?"
I nod. "Explain to me exactly what happens."
"If you use magic knowingly, the consequences are much worse than if you do it unknowingly. Magic is the devil's work; only the truly evil partake in it. To gain that type of power, you need to give something in return: a part of your soul. That part of you becomes dark and infects the rest of you. Gradually, people who use it become worse and worse until they're just disturbing individuals. Victims like yourself will experience more of a scar on the soul. If you don't remove the magic, it will leave a mark on you that can influence you to do things you wouldn't normally do."

"So, how do I remove it?" I ask.
She hands me a holy book. "There's only one way. Read this book over some water and drink the water twice a day, morning and night."
"Is this classified as magic?" I ask.
"No, these are God's words, and as long as you don't alter the words, it will cure you."
"That's it? Read the book over the water and drink it twice a day?"
"Yes, for one week. It's a lot harder than you might imagine. Spirits don't like to let go of an energy source. The moment they sense you want out, they will start to harass you. For the first two days, you'll likely hallucinate, and you'll feel sick for the remaining five days," she warns. "Start as soon as possible."
"Lauren, not many people actually survive magic. Those who do change somewhat, as do their capabilities. Everyone is different, so I can't tell you exactly what will happen to you."

I nod and rise to leave. "Lauren," she says, pointing to the pack house.
"Evil is better off dead than alive. You did the right thing; she was never a good woman."
She gazes at the forest. "The walk back will be hard. The spirits won't be merciful to you." She stands abruptly. "Laith, we have to go home." Laith gives me a goodbye hug. Thunder and I exchange glances.
"Do you think it's legit?" he asks.
"Anything is worth a try," I reply.

We walk back through the ancient forest, where twisted trees cast shadows that dance with the fading light. Everything seems eerily silent. When I'm about halfway home, a suffocating smog rises from the ground, cloaking the forest floor in its cold embrace. I hear the faint sound of a twig snapping behind me and quickly turn, but there's only emptiness. "Did you hear that?" I whisper to Thunder.
"No," he murmurs, his voice tinged with uncertainty. But then, the wind, cold and hollow, carries a chilling whistle. "Lauren," it murmurs, as if the trees themselves were whispering my name. I halt and lock eyes with Thunder.
"I heard that," he admits, his eyes wide. "Let's hurry; we are almost home."
As we hasten our pace, the muted pitter-patter of rain begins. Oddly, I feel no wetness on my skin. Then, out of the enveloping mist, Aiden's voice, ghostly and mournful, reaches my ear. "Lauren," it breathes, "we could have been so happy together." Panic sets in as I scan the surroundings, seeing only Thunder and the oppressive fog. "But you killed me," the voice accuses.
From all around, the forest seems to echo with the haunting refrain: "Murderer, murderer, murderer."
Memories flood back. I had killed. I had imprisoned a witch and left her to wither away. As the weight of the day's events crashes down on me, I feel my breaths come short and fast. It's as if unseen hands, cold and clammy, are clawing at my ankles. Desperately, I try to move, but the smog thickens, obscuring everything in its haunting veil.

The voices grow darker, their laughter echoing ominously through the fog-laden woods. "Little girl," the witch's voice hisses, each syllable dripping with malevolence.
Suddenly, the agonizing sound of wood splintering pierces the air, and an unseen force hurtles me to the ground. Dazed, I look up, only to find Thunder looming protectively over me. A deafening crash reverberates, and I realize that a gnarled tree, twisted with age, has fallen where I'd been just moments before.

"You're just a little girl who'll get what's coming to her," the witch laughs echoing in the forest feeling like it's coming from every direction.

As I try to continue my trek towards the safety of home, a grotesque silhouette emerges from the dense mist — its lanky, skeletal frame jerking unnaturally. Heart racing, I clutch a nearby branch and charge, but the apparition dissolves into the fog, leaving only a chilling laugh in its wake. The mist, thickening and rising, now swirls around my waist, its touch colder than the grave. Out of nowhere, a clammy hand seizes my arm. Panicking, I scream and thrash wildly.

"It's just me, it's just me!" Thunder shouts, rubbing the shoulder I struck. "We have to stay together, okay? Don't run away from me," he urges. I'm shivering, feeling as if I've walked into the refrigerated section of a grocery store.

"He slept with Tiffany," the witch's voice taunts.
I turn to him, my eyes searching his. "Did you sleep with Tiffany?"
"No, don't listen to the voices! They want us to separate. They'll say anything," Thunder states.
"He loves to go down on her; he tells her she's his one and only," the voices whisper maliciously.

"You did that?" My voice rises in anger and disbelief.

"They're lying, Lauren. I'd never do that," Thunder insists.

"She begged me to take her right here on the forest floor," Aiden's voice chimes in, dripping with malice.

Thunder's eyes ignite, glowing intensely, and his wolf-like fangs become visible through his grimace. "You were with him!?" His voice is rough, almost a growl.

"She was all mine, every inch of her, her body responding to every move,tits bouncing with every thrust." Aiden's voice taunts further.

"No, no, I didn't," I assert. "I didn't." I place my hands on Thunder's chest, feeling his heart beating so fiercely that it reverberates against my palm. The sound of rain intensifies, almost deafening, yet not a single droplet falls.

"We have just five more minutes before we're out of this forest. We can get through this," I say, attempting to reassure myself.

He nods, and we quicken our pace. But just as we're about to exit the forest, something tugs at my leg. I tumble to the ground, feeling a sharp, throbbing pain. Thunder lifts me up, and as I touch my ankle, my fingers come away smeared with blood.

Once we step out of the forest, the eerie atmosphere dissipates. Silently, we make our way home together.

"Did you sleep with him?" he asks, his voice strained.

"No, Thunder. He tried, but I didn't let him. I only allowed him to kiss so he wouldn't suspect that I knew something was off." Thunder places his forehead against mine, closing his eyes.

"I never did anything with Tiffany," he murmurs. When he opens his eyes, they've returned to their usual honey hue.

"Okay," I reply.

As my house comes into view, I let out a sigh. It stands cold, vacant, and shrouded in darkness.

Upon entering, I switch on all the lights, then open the holy book to begin reading over a jug of water. To his credit, Thunder stays by my side, not leaving me alone for a moment.