Chapter 12
639words
"What was her name?"
"Elena. Elena Miller." I pause, trying to recall details I've rarely thought about. "She wasn't from our village originally. She came from somewhere else, met my father, and settled there."
"Did she ever speak of her past? Her family?"
I shake my head. "She was secretive about it. Said it was better left behind." I hesitate, then add, "She was different, though. Not like other village women. She could move so quietly through the forest that animals wouldn't startle.
Kayden's expression intensifies. "The knife—it was hers?"
"Yes. She gave it to me before she died. Said it would protect me when she couldn't." I pull it from its hiding place, offering it to him.
He takes it carefully, examining the markings on the handle. "These are pack symbols. Werewolf pack symbols."
"That's impossible. My mother wasn't a werewolf."
"Perhaps not fully," he says. "But these markings suggest she had werewolf blood."
"That would explain why this knife cut me," he continues. "Ordinary weapons can't harm werewolves. And it would explain your unique scent."
I shake my head. "I'm human. Entirely human."
"Have you never noticed anything unusual? Heightened senses? Sharper instincts?"
Memories surface—hearing whispers from other rooms, smelling rain hours before clouds appeared, animals never fearing me in the forest.
"Coincidences," I insist.
Kayden leans forward. "At the border, I heard stories of a woman who fought werewolves fifteen years ago. She killed several before succumbing to her wounds."
"My mother died protecting me from werewolves. That's what my father told me."
"Those weren't random attackers. They were sent specifically for her."
"Why?"
He hesitates. "Your mother was remarkable. Despite being of mixed blood, she rose to become one of the Western Pack's most valued advisors. Her intelligence was unmatched—she could solve problems that puzzled even the Alpha."
"If she was so valued, why would they hunt her?"
"She grew disillusioned with werewolf hierarchy. Our rigid class system, our treatment of humans." His eyes meet mine. "She simply wanted to leave, to find a different life. But no one leaves the pack without permission—especially someone with her abilities."
"So she fled."
Kayden nods. "She disappeared. Rumors said she'd fallen in love with a human and escaped with him. The Western Alpha was furious.
"And this knife?"
"A ceremonial blade given only to the pack's elite. It bears the Western Pack's mark." He sets it down carefully. "Your mother wasn't just any mixed-blood, Freya. She was exceptional."
I pace before the fireplace. "If what you're saying is true, then I'm part werewolf? How is that possible when I'm so... ordinary?"
"Werewolf genes are dominant but can lie dormant. Being here, surrounded by our kind, those genes may be awakening."
"Awakening how?"
"Sharper senses. Slightly increased strength.
I stop pacing. "Why did you really bring me here, Kayden? The truth."
"When your knife cut me, I knew you were different. I needed to understand how a human could harm me." His expression is frank, without sentiment. "I brought you here to discover what you are."
"And now?"
"Now I believe you're the daughter of one of the most significant mixed-bloods in werewolf history. That makes you valuable—and potentially in danger."
"There's a way to confirm it," he adds. "Your blood. If I take a small amount, I could smell the werewolf heritage, if it exists."
"You want to bite me?"
"Just enough to draw blood. It wouldn't hurt much."
A sharp knock interrupts us.
"Enter," Kayden calls.
A guard appears. "My lord, the Alpha requests your presence immediately. Alone."
Kayden nods. "I'll be there shortly."
When the guard leaves, Kayden turns back to me. "Think about it. We can confirm when I return."
