Chapter 32

SHANE

"I must kill the old woman," Caspian growled in my mind. "She is a threat to our pack. We must act now, before she can do any more harm."

"But why?" I asked, my thoughts racing. "She hasn't done anything to us. We can't just go around killing people!"

Even though I suggested the idea, I was hoping my wolf would suggest me otherwise.

"She knows our secret," Caspian snarled. "She knows what we are. She must be stopped, before she can expose us to the humans.”

"But we can't just kill her!" I protested. "We need to talk to her first, try to reason with her. Maybe she can be persuaded to keep our secret."

"You are a fool," Caspian said, his voice harsh. "She will never agree to keep our secret. She is too dangerous, too unpredictable. She must be dealt with, and quickly."

I felt a wave of fear wash over me, and I shivered, the cold night air seeping into my bones. Caspian was right. I knew he was right.

But I couldn't bring myself to take such a drastic step. I couldn't just kill the old woman Harley was here as well. But what could I do? I felt trapped, my mind racing, my heart pounding in my chest.

Suddenly, I heard a voice, a frail, quivering voice that somehow cut through the darkness and the wind.

"Oh, my dear," the old woman said. "I was only teasing you. I have no interest in your wolf, or any of that nonsense."

I felt my heart skip a beat. Was she telling the truth? Could I trust her? I was so confused, so unsure of what to do.

The night was coming in fast. It was dark and cold, the wind howling through the trees, the stars hidden behind a layer of heavy clouds.

And yet, I felt a strange sense of calm as I stood there, talking to the old woman. However, Harley had spoken to me earlier, Her words were soothing, her voice a balm to my troubled mind. I listened to her, my senses alert, my heart slowly calming.

She told me of her life, of the hardships she had endured, of the struggles she had faced. And yet, she spoke with a surprising amount of grace and humor. I found myself captivated, hanging on her every word.

I wanted to help her speak to her mother and maybe I could ease her pain a little.

As I stood there, listening to the old woman speak, I noticed that she was holding something in her hand. I squinted in the dim light, and I saw that it was a small leather pouch, the color of dried leaves.

I realized then that it must have been the money Harley had given her, and I wondered what she would do with it.

"This is more than I need," she said, her voice filled with gratitude. "Thank you for your generosity, dear child."

I hesitated, not sure what to say. However Harley had responded back.

“It’s okay Ma’am”

"I want you to have it," she said, her voice wavering. "You're being so kind to me, and I just...I want to repay you for your kindness."

She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

"My dear child," she said. "I have done nothing more than show you the same kindness that I would show anyone. I do not need repayment. But I am grateful for your thoughtfulness."

I felt a warmth in my chest, a feeling of connection and comfort.

"Thank you," We both said, our voice quiet. "For everything."

As the old woman and I walked back to the farmhouse, I took in the sights and sounds around me.

The night was drawing near, the sky darkening to a deep blue. The air was crisp and cool, the wind blowing gently through the trees. The moon hung low in the sky, its pale light illuminating the landscape around us.

We arrived at the farmhouse, and the old woman led us into a small room, lit by a single candle. The walls were lined with books, and a small table stood in the center of the room.

The room was cozy and warm, the flickering candlelight casting shadows on the walls. The smell of books and wood smoke filled the air, and I felt myself relax. There was a sense of peace and comfort in this place, a feeling of safety and security.

The old woman gestured to a chair, and we sat down, my body aching from the long walk. She sat down across from me, her gaze warm and kind.

"I will make you some tea," she said, and I nodded, grateful for her care.

The old woman rose from her chair and left the room, her footsteps light and quiet.

We sat alone in the dimly lit room, my thoughts whirling. I felt as if I had been transported to another world, a world of peace and serenity.

A few minutes passed, and then another woman entered the room.

She was younger than the first woman, her eyes bright and full of life. She carried a tray with a steaming pot of tea and two cups. She set the tray on the table and poured the tea, her movements graceful and precise.

The younger woman was dressed in a simple but elegant gown, the color of pale lavender.

Her hair was pulled back in a neat bun, and a single strand of pearls hung around her neck. She wore a veil over her face, obscuring her features. I could see only her eyes, a deep blue that seemed to hold a thousand secrets.

She handed me a cup of tea, her hands steady and sure. I took the cup, my fingers wrapped around the warm porcelain. The scent of jasmine filled my senses, and I took a sip, the hot liquid soothing my tired body.

“I’ll be the one taking you to go see your mother.”