Chapter 182: Chapter 182

Mira’s POV

The moment I stepped across the threshold of the manor, I felt it—the pulse of magic beneath my feet. It wasn’t violent or overwhelming. It was subtle, almost calming. Like the house itself was breathing.

The three women who had brought me here moved ahead without speaking. I followed them into a wide parlour draped in deep forest greens and silver-stitched curtains. Soft lanterns floated midair, casting warm light across bookshelves, cauldrons, and what looked like potted herbs glowing faintly from within.

Two more women were waiting inside.

They looked up as I entered, smiles spreading on both their faces.

“Welcome,” said the elder of the two, her silver hair braided down her back like a vine. “We’ve waited so long for this day.”

I nodded politely. My heart was still pounding from everything I’d just experienced outside—the shadows, the magic, the guards, the illusion of the hidden manor. I felt like I’d stepped into a dream. One I wasn’t sure I wanted to stay in.

One of them moved forward and took my small bag from my shoulder.

“Please, let us handle your belongings.”

Before I could argue, she snapped her fingers and the bag vanished into thin air. My eyes widened, and she winked.

“Don’t worry. It’s in your room already.”

The other woman conjured a floating cup of steaming tea in front of me. It hovered perfectly still until I took it cautiously. I sniffed it. Chamomile and something minty.

“I promise it’s safe,” she said, reading my hesitation. “We don’t conjure food from scratch. This was already prepared downstairs. We just transported it.”

I hesitated a second longer… then took a careful sip.

It was warm, soothing. Just what my nerves needed.

I sat on the nearest cushioned chair and tried to settle my thoughts.

More footsteps echoed on the stairs. One by one, more women emerged from the upper floor, each wearing the same green robes, though with different embroidery and hairstyles. Some were older, others barely older than me. They smiled, curtsied, offered words of welcome.

One of them, a girl with wild red curls and dimples, practically bounced down the steps and rushed over.

“You’re Mira?” she gasped. “The Mira? The daughter of Willow Tourmalaine? This is so exciting!”

I blinked at her energy. “I… suppose?”

She beamed. “I’m Elira. I’ve read all the old scrolls. The ones about the Last Witches. We didn’t know Willow had a child! Well, except Mistress Halka—she always suspected, but no one believed her. But now you’re here and it’s true!”

She bounced in place like a puppy who’d discovered a new chew toy.

“Elira,” one of the older witches warned gently. “Give her space. This is all very new.”

“Right, right,” she said, lowering her voice but still grinning.

“Twelve,” I said aloud, glancing around. “There are twelve of you?”

“Thirteen,” said a tall woman near the hearth. “Including you.”

“I mean, in the coven. Are there… only women?”

That made a few of them chuckle.

“The men are away,” said the woman with silver hair. “They rotate through different sanctums across the wilds. They train, gather relics, protect the sacred places. We haven’t had men here for a fortnight.”

I nodded slowly. “I see.”

“We’ll show you your room,” Elira said brightly. “And you can bathe. The trip here must’ve been exhausting.”

They led me up a narrow staircase to a room that was modest but warm. Wooden floors. A green velvet canopy bed. Shelves filled with books—most too old to read. My bag was already sitting on the edge of the bed, just as promised.

They left me alone to shower and dress.

By the time I came down again, a plate of warm stew and fresh bread was waiting. I ate quietly while the witches gathered around, chatting among themselves.

But as soon as I finished, the mood shifted.

The women grew quieter.

The silver-haired one—whom they called Mistress Halka—sat across from me.

“It’s time we speak of your mother.”

I nodded, clearing my throat. “I… I always believed she was killed by witch hunters. That she died when I was a child.”

The room quieted further. Some faces grew grim.

“We heard otherwise,” Halka said gently. “We were told she was taken by werewolves.”

My head snapped up.

“What?”

“It’s what your father told us,” said another witch. “He said she was devoured. Tracked and slaughtered by Lycans who caught her scent while she was trying to protect you.”

I blinked, heart racing.

So he’d lied to them, too.

He hadn’t just twisted my memories—he’d built an entire false story and fed it to the people who had once called her sister.

I clenched my fists in my lap.

But I couldn’t tell them the truth. That he’d been the one to kill her. That my mother had only just revealed it to me from beyond the veil.

Because I knew that if I did, they’d see it in my eyes if I lied.

And if I told them the truth, who knew what chaos that would stir?

No. For now, I had to stay quiet.

“I never knew much about her,” I said softly. “Only what my father chose to tell me.”

Halka gave me a sympathetic look. “Then we will help you reclaim her legacy.”

I nodded mutely.

They believed I was one of them. And I was… sort of.

But not completely.

“So,” I asked cautiously, “what does that legacy involve?”

The warmth in the room cooled slightly.

“The world is corrupted,” said a lean woman with long ash-blonde hair. “Twisted by creatures who claim the moon as their birthright. But it is we—the children of earth and magic—who came first.”

“We are balance,” said another. “And balance must be restored.”

“Your father understands that,” Halka added. “He’s worked with us for years to dismantle rogue werewolf outposts. To weaken their claim. He has always believed in your future.”

I froze. “You’ve worked with my father?”

“He was the only link we had to your bloodline,” Halka said. “And when he told us of you, we were… cautious. But hopeful.”

“You knew I married Lycans,” I said, my voice low.

“We did,” Halka nodded. “And we believe you were misled. It happens often. You grew up among them, believing they were noble or kind. But the truth…” Her voice hardened. “They are not what they seem.”

I looked down at my hands.

“We don’t blame you,” another said kindly. “You are young. Conflicted. But that’s why you’re here. To remember who you truly are. To awaken your full nature.”

They believed that once my training was complete, I’d turn on everything I once loved.

They didn’t know how wrong they were.

I wanted to argue—to scream that they were wrong about my mates, about their hate. But the moment I opened my mouth, Halka raised a hand.

“Enough for tonight,” she said gently. “You’ve journeyed long. Tomorrow, we begin.”

I nodded faintly.

A few of them bid me goodnight, and I followed Elira up the stairs to my room once again. The moment the door closed behind me, I sagged against it.

My mind spun.

I should run.

I should escape while they still trusted me.

But I didn’t move.

Because running would mean failure. And failure would mean I’d never find the truth. I’d never understand my powers. I’d never help my mates.

No.

I’d stay.

And I’d play their game.

Until I was ready to rewrite the rules.