Chapter 27
A month passed by in a blur, and slowly, I started to feel nothing. My natural witch instinct forced me to obey Gretel and her orders as she was my true queen and I was nothing in front of her. Part of me wondered whether I'd be different after all the gruesome trainings.
It was the middle of the night when Gretel called me to the lounge of the mansion. I was surprised as she had never done that before. When I walked in there, I found another witch, seated beside Gretel.
"Come here," Gretel said, raising her hand and calling me towards her.
I went by her and sat down, looking at the other witch. Her eyes were gray, and she was quivering like a leaf, her head narrowed down.
"This is Faye, she was one of our brightest witches a few years back and now, she's blind." Gretel said before turning to the woman and placing her hand over her back, comforting her, "Tell the girl what happened and who turned you blind."
The woman named Faye lifted her head, her eyes blind eyes scaring me as she looked across the room. A bile rose up my throat and I waited for her to speak.
"It was a few years ago, they came out from nowhere and took away my daughters. At that time, I practiced witchcraft but I always made sure that no one knew about it as it was illegal." She said, closing her eyes and going back to where her memory took her.
"What happened next, Faye?" Gretel asked.
I forced my gaze back at them. What was happening? What was this all for?
"They, the monsters came, they took my daughters away and punished me for practicing witchcraft by killing them. I found their heads hanging by tree, their eyes were still open." She further explained, her lips quivering along with the rest of her body.
"They?" I raised my brows.
"The werewolves. I used to live in Bedville, Pennsylvania with my children. I never knew werewolves were out for witches or else I'd have left. When they killed my daughters, I mourned, and went through a period of grief for a year before going up to the king—" she paused for a second and wiped the tears that fell on her cheeks. "—I went to him to avenge my children's lives but he, he attacked me, ripped off my face, turning me blind and helpless."
I stopped her, "The king?" Who was she talking about?
"The king of werewolves,"
My heart ached at her response. No. It couldn't be possible. Luciano had been the king of werewolves for over five years now, he couldn't have done any of that, neither would've Vincent or maybe, I never knew any of them or their pasts.
I stood up from my seat, walked over to her and got down on my knees, "Are you sure it was the king and no someone else, like the Beta or any other warrior?"
"I know the face—his face was the last one I had seen before I got blind. His memory still stands in my head. Those deep-set brown eyes that shifted into red when he attacked me. He was the first heir to their throne,"
It was Luciano.
Disgust crept across my body like insects and my lips parted open in surprise. Luciano killed women—children, innocent ones. He hid it all from me. Thinking about him took me to the past, on a certain day when Luciano came to me with his hands filled with blood of a rogue that had attacked Vincent. He told me that day that he had killed someone after years and at that moment, I thought it was okay.
But it wasn't.
Killing someone was never okay. And, it couldn't be.
"You can go rest, Faye. No one will harm you here, and I will assure you that," Gretel said, rubbing her back.
The woman stood up, her hands tangled around with the air and she walked away. I struggled to catch up with my racing thoughts.
Gretel broke the silence by saying, "This is why you need to kill werewolves. They do not show mercy to anyone but of their own kind,"
I stood up from the ground and sat down beside her. Hatred filling up my body as I thought about them. I believed Luciano was nice, and I wanted to believe that for the rest of my life but everyday, a different story came up to me. Witches were killed in mass—by werewolves—under the command of the king.
First, it was Vincent and then, it was Luciano. They were of the same bloodline and they both despised witches even though it didn't seem like that.
My body went numb as Gretel handed a phone to me, "Two of our sisters were killed last night, by your husband's kind. They won't stop. And, I think you should make a call and clear it out to them before they kill anymore of us."
A call? To Luciano?
My eyes darted to Gretel, and I shook my head, "I can't talk to him,"
"You have too. He's sending out men, every single day. He wants you back and he will kill anyone that interrupts his mission. It's better if you make it clear to him," she replied, pressing my hands. "If you don't, more of our sisters will be killed."
I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and glanced at the phone. Gretel wanted me to call Luciano and stop him from killing witches.
"All right," I sighed, opening the dial pad and jotting down Luciano's phone number.
Gretel's finger ran down my cheeks as she leaned, looking at my face, "It's the right things. Werewolves aren't your friends, they'll never be. They have been killing witches for over centuries, this battle will never be over unless you do something about it." She whispered to me, igniting my hatred to it's extent. How much more was I going to hate Luciano and his kind? "And, let's not forget how they rip innocent girls away from their families and claim them as their mates. Your own friend was abused by one of them, she would've been killed if that werewolf hadn't died."
She was talking about Lisa and Derrick. Gretel wasn't wrong at all. She was spilling facts.
"We—witches—do nothing. We do not harm human kind unless required. We practice witchcraft for our own safety, to protect ourselves from them. We do not force ourselves upon others and we certainly don't rip innocent girls away from their families!" She continued, whispering all the good things in my ears.
My fist shook as I took charge of my emotions. Gretel was right. Werewolves were horrible creatures. They only cared for their own kind. They were a curse to us and everyone else.
When I didn't say anything, Gretel stood up, "Call him, make things clear. You want your daughter and your sisters to be safe, right?" She asked me.
I nodded my head, "Yes,"
"Then call him. And, when you're done speaking with him, you can go rest. We will talk tomorrow morning." With that, Gretel walked away into one of the rooms, leaving me alone with a phone in my hand and eternal hatred in my heart for werewolves.
I pressed on the green button and called Luciano.
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