Chapter 35 – The Stirring Gift

Chapter 35 – The Stirring Gift


The Alpha had left the cave not long ago. His footsteps still echoed faintly in my ears, strong and certain as he went to meet Ronan outside. I was alone now, wrapped in the thin silence that hung around these stone walls.

For a while, I sat still on the blanket, hugging my knees, trying not to think of how my chest had raced when I looked at him that morning. I told myself I should not linger on it. I should push it away, bury it deep. But the harder I tried, the more his face came back to me—his voice, his steady gaze.

I shook my head and stood up quickly. I needed to move. Sitting there would only trap me in thoughts that led nowhere.

The air in the cave was cool, brushing against my arms as I stretched. My muscles ached faintly, but it felt good to move them after lying for so long. I crossed the room slowly, my bare feet pressing against the rough ground. Near the far wall, a clay jug of water waited, with a small basin beside it. Elara had left it for me earlier, telling me I could use it whenever I wished.

I crouched down and reached for the jug.

The moment my fingers touched the clay, something strange jolted through me. My breath caught, and for a heartbeat I thought I was only dizzy. But then it came—a rush of images that did not belong to the present.

The jug wasn’t just a jug. I saw hands—different from mine, rough and strong—shaping it out of wet clay, pressing and turning it as it spun on a wheel. I saw the heat of fire blazing as the jug hardened inside a kiln. I saw someone—Elara, I thought—carrying it carefully into this very cave.

I gasped and let go at once. The jug fell back with a dull thud against the stone, but it didn’t break. My heart pounded in my chest.

“What was that?” I whispered to myself. My fingers trembled as I held them up to the faint light. Nothing about them looked different. They were still my hands. But something had happened. Something I couldn’t explain.

I wanted to believe it was just my mind playing tricks on me, but deep down, I knew better.

I stood slowly, backing away from the jug. I didn’t want to touch it again, not yet. My chest rose and fell too quickly, and the cave seemed smaller, darker, as though the walls were pressing closer.

But curiosity burned just as strongly as fear.

I turned toward the blanket I had left behind. My eyes fell on the small comb Elara had given me days ago, lying near the folded cloth. I hesitated. My hands ached to know, to test. What if it happened again? What if it wasn’t only the jug?

Swallowing hard, I bent down and picked up the comb.

The vision came at once, softer this time but clear. I saw Elara’s hand brushing it gently through her long dark hair before placing it in mine. I saw strands of her hair caught between the teeth, and then mine after, faint and pale. The comb carried both of us.

I dropped it back onto the blanket. My knees felt weak. My heart wouldn’t calm.

It wasn’t a mistake. It was real.

My gift.

The word rang in my mind, heavy as a stone. I remembered what Elara had said before, about my mother, about what I carried. I had believed her but never felt it—not like this. Not so sharp, so sudden.

I pressed both hands to my chest and tried to breathe.

This power—it was stirring.

But it frightened me.

I looked around the cave, desperate to distract myself, to prove I was still in control. My eyes fell on a small wooden box in the corner, one I had never touched before. Slowly, as if drawn by something greater than myself, I stepped toward it.

When my hands brushed its lid, another wave came. Stronger this time, pulling me deeper.

I saw it sitting in someone’s house, years ago, filled with herbs and roots. I saw a woman—someone I didn’t know—placing something inside and whispering words I couldn’t hear. Then, darkness. Then hands—different, larger—carrying it away, hiding it.

I pulled back with a gasp.

My breaths were quick and uneven. Sweat touched my temples even though the air was cool.

“What is happening to me?” I whispered, my voice shaking.

I backed away from the box and sat down hard on the blanket. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling. Every object I touched—every single one—seemed to hold secrets. Secrets my body now wanted to reveal.

I tried to still my racing thoughts.

It couldn’t be a curse. Could it? No, Elara had said it was my mother’s gift. But gifts were supposed to bring peace, not fear. And yet, all I felt was that the walls around me were no longer safe, that every touch might open another door I wasn’t ready to walk through.

I closed my eyes tight, but even then, flashes pressed against me. Whispers, shadows, faint threads of voices I could not catch. A weight sat heavy on my chest.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. But there was nowhere to go.

So I sat very still, clutching my hands together until the trembling eased a little.

The power was growing. I could feel it rising in me, stretching, searching. It wanted out.

But I didn’t know how to control it.

After what felt like forever, the pounding of my heart slowed. I opened my eyes again, staring at the cave wall.

No one else knew yet. Not the Alpha. Not Elara. Not even the cloaked men.

This was mine alone—for now.

I should tell Elara, I thought. She would understand. She would know how to guide me. But another part of me whispered that I should keep it secret, at least for a while. If anyone else knew, they might try to use it, twist it. And I wasn’t even sure if I could bear their questions when I didn’t have answers for myself.

I hugged my knees tight to my chest. My body still remembered the feeling, the strange pull of the visions. It wasn’t just what had been—it was where things had gone, too. I knew it in my bones. If I reached deep enough, I could find what was lost. I could trace what others thought hidden.

That thought terrified me most of all.

Because if I could see truths, I might also see lies. And if I uncovered them, would they consume me?

I pressed my forehead against my knees and shut my eyes, trying to calm the storm rising inside me.

This was only the beginning. I knew it.