90

90
KADE
“I know it feels very weird right now, but we have to trust the police and hope they can catch the killers soon. That poor kid and his mother deserve justice.”
My mother’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. For a few minutes, I had relived that day, and it filled me with a wave of uneasiness. The air that morning felt like something had changed drastically, and I dreaded what was to come.
At the time, I regarded Ella fainting as a perfect example of why she was seen as the weak link and even made snide comments about it.
But with everything I had heard from the seer—as much as Lucian would hate to hear it—I was beginning to think there was more to the entire ordeal than met the eye.
I blinked and turned to meet her gaze, then exhaled slowly. “They need to get justice,” I agreed. “Monsieur Cavill, is he…”
“A werewolf?” she asked, and I nodded. “No. He isn’t, and I don’t think your father ever told him about it.”
“How close could they have been if he didn’t know something that important?” I said and scoffed.
“Pretty close—probably not close enough to divulge that kind of secret, and I understand it. Before Marcus left, he had a fight with your dad over something. Neither of them ever spoke about what it was, and the next morning, he was gone. When I asked Marcus about it, he said it was something ridiculous, and he was ashamed that it was the last conversation he had with your father.”
“That’s a lot of words to not say what it was,” I answered, and she chuckled.
“Yes, that’s what I thought too. But he’s right—after all these years, I’m sure it was something trivial. Otherwise, your dad would’ve said something.”
When she mentioned my dad, I realized I had become so accustomed to his absence that I hadn’t asked questions about him or what their life had been like when they were younger.
This thing with Marcus Sevill seemed mundane, but I thought about how the answer to my current problem might be right in front of me.
If there was anyone who would tell me what our relationship with the Harpers had been like in her time—without political inclinations—it was my mom.
“Can I ask you something?” I said after a short silence.
“Sure. What is it?”
“It’s about the Harpers. I went to see the seer today, and she seemed visibly upset that we didn’t want to…” I paused, trying to collect my thoughts. The subject change was a little too sudden, even for me. I had to make sure I asked the right questions without making her suspicious. “…believe that the Blackthorns betrayed such a small and irrelevant pack,” I finished.
“People still share those sentiments, huh?” she replied, and I squinted at her.
“What do you mean ‘still share those sentiments’? What sentiments?” I asked, and she smiled sadly.
“There was a time when there was division among the council because they couldn’t bring themselves to agree on whether or not they had done the right thing.”
“The right thing,” I echoed, stifling a groan as my patience wore thin during the long pause that followed.
“Yes,” she said finally and patted the bed twice. “The Harpers weren’t so irrelevant some years ago. In fact, they were the most sought-out clan because it was rumored that they had abilities the rest of us didn’t.”
“A bunch of Omegas and Betas were sought out by other people?”
“They weren’t all Omegas and Betas. They had their Alphas too. Wolves have always been territorial—humans as well. As people who had to live in both worlds, we had to navigate life, and it was twice as hard. The Harpers had found a way to make things easier. We didn’t know what it was at first, but we wanted in on it. Who wouldn’t want to be able to see the future, create spells and potions that could heal severe wounds, and so much more? But we weren’t the only ones who coveted these abilities. Other packs had heard about it and wanted in too. So did the humans.”
“Humans?” I frowned and shook my head slowly. “Why… how…” I added, confused.
“How did the humans know about this? We lived in a world much different from the one you currently know, Kade. Humans, werewolves, druids, and other beings all lived with a shared sense of security—each maintaining their territories—until new generations came along and not everyone wanted to share. The humans began expanding their territory. They bought acres of land, tore down homes of other beings so they could build whatever they wanted, while the rest of us scrambled for sustenance—food, water, shelter…” she answered.
I listened with rapt attention as she spoke about how the butterfly effect of humans taking over territories meant packs had to adapt to survive. And within themselves, they fought for places to call their own.
My pack was strong enough to hold their ground wherever they moved, but something had changed. The humans’ insatiable thirst for knowledge brought about the rise of a group that discovered they could use what the druids knew for personal gain.
They started by using the druids’ knowledge to aid society, which resulted in rapid growth and widespread awareness. But on the other end of the spectrum, it also brought about the rise of witches.
These new sects went about their quest for knowledge the wrong way—and it didn’t help that they had multiple gangs with the same mission and varying degrees of selfishness.
“The druids went into hiding or were caught and killed. Soon, the Harpers too had a lot to deal with. They were hunted by both their kind and others while trying to find a territory to dwell in and fending off those who sought to harm them. So our pack saw an opportunity and took it. We could offer them protection, and a pact was made between the two packs while we learned how to use the knowledge they had.”
As she spoke, I felt my doubts slowly fade and be quickly replaced by a wave of anxiety. I wanted to know more about the details of the pact, but something else stood out to me.
“How were the druids killed?” I asked, swallowing hard as the answer popped into my mind. I hoped I would be wrong. I desperately wanted to be wrong, but I knew that my fears would be confirmed—and I loathed every second of it.
“In an elevated position. They were hung on trees or places of interest, which usually included spots where rituals were said to have taken place. But I think that part is mere folklore.”
“Yeah… um, thanks, Mom,” I replied, and she nodded.
“Anytime. Get some rest. You look like you need it.”
With that, she exited the room, and I slowly moved my body into a lying position. The realization that Langdon had been hung in an elevated position filled me with dread.
The only difference was that he had been hung at the gate, which meant I had to confirm if the school had ever been a site for rituals. I finally had the silence I desperately craved, but I couldn’t close my eyes.
There was some truth to what the seer had said. The versions I had heard seemed a little different, but their similarities were glaring. The seer was right—something was coming, and it was bigger than we envisioned.