Chapter 37: Grandmother

The words hung in the freezing mountain air.

Hera isn't trying to get in. She’s already inside you.

I stumbled back from the tiny, aged woman, my heel catching on a tree root in the muddy path. "No," I whispered, my voice shaking. " That’s crazy. How did she even get in?"

Estava didn't blink. Her eyes bore into mine with uncomfortable intensity. "She has been there before you were born." She shifted her gaze to Vesper, who was fidgeting beside me. "And he is turning it fast."

"Grandmother, please," Aleera stepped forward, placing a m hand on the old woman's shawled arm. "They've just been through a lot already. They need rest, not riddles."

Estava huffed. "Rest? There has been no rest for me for almost one hundred years, child. I was given the prophecy to guard, and now that it’s beginning to unravel, I must see to it that it does so perfectly."

She turned sharply and stumped toward the cottage door, expecting us to follow. "Come inside. Before the valley scent changes and the things that hunt in these woods realize what fresh meat has arrived."

We filed into the cottage. From the outside, it looked like a structure that breeze would easily knock over. Inside, it was cavernous, smelling of dried herbs, woodsmoke, and the same unique scent that crackled around Vesper.

"Sit," Estava commanded, waving her hand toward a rough-hewn wooden table opposite her.

I sat, my body numb. The revelation that I might be harboring an ancient, evil sorceress in my soul was too big to process, so my brain just shut down. I stared at the fire.

Vesper didn't sit. He stood near the door, his back to the wall, eyes darting around the shadowy corners of the room. He looked awful, and I had a strong urge to reach out to comfort him.

Every time a log shifted in the fire, he flinched violently. His hands were clenched into fists tight.

"The air here," Julian murmured, standing near his friend, watching him with concern. "It’s... heavy. I can’t communicate properly with Vixxen."

"It’s guarded," Aleera corrected softly, sliding onto the bench next to me. "This village... it’s built on an ancient covenant. The magic here was designed to keep evil supernatural creatures at bay."

"It's irritating him," Julian noted, watching Vesper scratch absently at his forearm, leaving red welts.

"It’s itching under his skin," Estava said from the kitchen area, where she was tossing things into a cauldron hanging over the fire. "He's an Alpha predator used to numbing himself with potions and living in a magically dead city. Potions that came at a very heavy cost.”

“What cost?” Vesper finally spoke up.

A wry smile stretched Estava’s lips before responding, “Your mother offered herself to produce your antigen. It required a sacrifice, and she became it. For you. She didn’t want you revealing your true self to the world. Each bottle she gave you took years from her life.”

Vesper’s face dropped, and seconds later, he let out a low, guttural snarl, pressing his hands against his temples. His eyes squeezed shut. When he opened them, his eyes gave off a silver glow.

"Ves?" Julian took a step toward him. "You okay, man?"

"Get away from me," Vesper grated out. It wasn't a threat; it was a warning. His voice was rough, layered with a deep growl. "You killed her! You let her do that to herself.”

"It was her choice,” Estava said dispassionately, stirring her brew. “Go shift outside.”

"Is that allowed here?” I asked growing concerned.

"I wouldn’t have told him to go if it wasn’t," Elara countered. She turned from the fire, holding a ladle dripping with dark liquid. "This village is a sanctuary, girl. For centuries, those who wanted no part of the supernatural wars hid here. Shifters who wouldn't fight, witches who wouldn't curse. We survive by remaining hidden and peaceful. As long as you’re not hurting anyone, you’re free to do whatever."

She pointed the ladle at Vesper, who was now pacing the length of the back wall like a caged tiger, his breathing ragged.

"Just make sure he doesn’t lose control . Because it’s only then that you’d see the wrath of the sanctuary keepers."

As if on cue, Vesper slammed his shoulder into the wall as he turned, hard enough to shake dust from the rafters. He let out a roar of frustration that made the windows rattle in their frames.

"I can't be in here. I need to leave," he gasped, clawing at the collar of his shirt. "It's suffocating."

Before anyone could stop him, he wrenched the cottage door open and bolted out into the cold, misty night.

"Vesper!" I scrambled up from the bench, the bond I felt in my chest yanking me after him.

"Let him go, Sylvania," Julian warned, grabbing my arm. "I don’t think he knows what he's doing right now."

"I can't just leave him alone out there." I tore free and ran outside.

The village square was empty, illuminated only by the faint, watery moonlight filtering through the misf. Vesper was in the center of a muddy clearing. He had fallen to his knees, his back arched, his hands digging into the earth.

Sounds were tearing out of him—human sobs mixed with animalistic yelps.

I slowly approached him, the mud sucking at my borrowed sneakers. The air out here felt electric, making my skin prickle.

"Vesper?" I kept my voice low, soothing. "It’s okay. Just breathe."

His head snapped up.

I stopped dead. The face that looked at me wasn't Vesper’s. The features were contorted, the jaw distended, teeth already lengthening into fangs. But the eyes... they were sheer, terrifying silver mirrors. There was no recognition in them. No humanity.

Only hunger, and blind, cornered fury.

He snarled—a sound that vibrated deep in my own chest bones—and lunged from his crouch straight at me.

I didn't have time to scream. I threw my hands up defensively, bracing for the impact of claws and teeth.

Suddenly, the mud beneath Vesper’s feet erupted. Thick tree roots burst from the ground like striking cobras. They wrapped around his ankles, his wrists, his torso, yanking him backward just feet before he reached me.

He roared in fury, thrashing against the bonds, snapping at the wood, but the roots only tightened, pinning him spread-eagle to the frozen earth.

I stood there, shaking, staring at the monster that had just tried to kill me.

Just them, I saw Estava standing behind me, her staff raised, glowing with faint green light. Her expression was grim.

"He’s unstable m," she called out, her voice echoing strangely in the mist. She lowered her staff, and the roots solidified into hard, unyielding wood, trapping Vesper completely. "And in this village, we cage unstable shifters before they go off."