Chapter 10 Freya's Warning (Vivienne POV)

Chapter 10 Freya's Warning (Vivienne POV)

"I need to show you something," Freya says the next morning, intercepting me outside the dining hall. "After breakfast. Meet me at the old chapel."
"The chapel?" I glance at Sophie, who's waiting for me by the entrance.
"Which is why it's the only place we can talk privately." She lowers her voice. "Please, Vivienne. What I need to tell you…what I need to show you…it can't wait much longer."
There's an urgency in her tone that makes me nod despite my confusion. "After breakfast. I'll be there."
She disappears into the crowd of students, leaving me with a stomach too anxious to actually eat anything.
Sophie notices immediately. "You're pushing your eggs around again. What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Just not hungry."
"You're never hungry anymore. Vivienne, are you developing an eating disorder? Because if you are, we should talk to…"
"I'm not. I promise. I'm just..." I search for an explanation that isn't 'I had a midnight meeting with Freya who told me I'm a werewolf and now I don't know what to believe.' "Stressed about the project. And Declan being sick. It's throwing off our timeline."
Sophie accepts this, though she still looks worried. "Speaking of Declan, did you hear he's back in class today? Owen mentioned he's finally recovered."
My pulse quickens. "He's here?"
"Supposedly. Though I haven't seen him yet." She takes a bite of toast. "You should check on him. Make sure he's really okay."
But I can't check on him. Freya warned me to stay away, and after last night, after learning what I supposedly am…I'm starting to understand why.
I finish breakfast quickly, telling Sophie I need to study before first period. Instead, I head toward the old chapel, following the overgrown path that winds behind the main academic building.
The chapel looms ahead, grey stone covered in ivy, windows dark and empty. It's been decommissioned for decades, used mostly for storage now. I push open the heavy wooden door, expecting it to creak. Instead, it swings silently, recently oiled hinges.
"Hello?" My voice echoes in the empty space.
"Up here." Freya's voice comes from the loft area where the old organ sits. "There's a ladder on the right."
I find it and climb, emerging into a space that's surprisingly well-maintained. Candles line the edges of the loft, unlit. A circle has been drawn on the floor in what looks like salt. Books are stacked in careful piles.
"You come here often," I say, not quite a question.
"It's the only place on campus with proper privacy wards." Freya sits cross-legged in the center of the salt circle, gesturing for me to join her. "And yes, before you ask, that's real salt. And real magic."
I sit across from her, careful not to disturb the circle. "Magic."
"Magic." She meets my eyes. "Vivienne, I'm a witch. My mother was a witch, her mother before her, going back centuries. My grandmother died three years ago, but she left me her grimoire and her knowledge."
I should laugh. Should dismiss this as some elaborate prank. But after everything I've experienced, the enhanced senses, the impossible speed, the dreams…I can't quite manage disbelief.
"Prove it," I say instead.
Freya smiles, almost relieved. She holds out her hand, palm up, and murmurs something in a language I don't recognize. A small flame appears in her palm, dancing without burning her skin.
"That's a trick. Some kind of chemical reaction or…"
The flame jumps from her hand to mine, and I feel the heat but not pain. It hovers above my palm, warm and alive, before Freya closes her fist and it vanishes.
"Still think it's a trick?"
I stare at my unblemished palm. "No."
"Good. Because what I need to tell you requires you to accept that the impossible is actually quite possible." She settles back, studying my face. "How much do you remember about your mother?"
"Nothing. She died when I was a baby."
"Right. And your father told you it was an animal attack."
"Yes. Something came through the window of their cabin. He wasn't there to protect her."
"Did he ever tell you what kind of animal?"
"No. He won't discuss it."
Freya nods slowly, like this confirms something. "And he's kept you isolated your whole life. Private tutoring, constant moving, no friends or social connections. Why?"
"He says it's for my safety. That the world is dangerous."
"For you specifically? Or for everyone?"
I consider the question. "I always assumed he meant generally. That he was just overprotective because he lost my mother. But now..." I think about Father's research, the predator tracking data, the way he watches me sometimes. "Now I'm not sure."
"Vivienne, I can't tell you everything. Some truths you need to discover yourself, or they won't take root properly. But I can tell you this: some people at this school aren't what they seem. And you're attracting very dangerous attention from them."
"Dangerous how?"
"That depends on their intentions. Some might want to protect you. Others might want to use you. A few might want to hurt you." She leans forward. "But all of them have noticed you're changing. And that makes you a person of interest."
"Changing into what?"
"Something your father has been trying very hard to prevent. Something he's been suppressing since you were old enough to show signs."
My hand moves instinctively to my wrist, where the injection scar from my dream-memory would be. "The needles."
"You remember?"
"Pieces. Dreams that feel like memories. Father burning my mother's belongings. A silver pendant shaped like a wolf. Him injecting me with something while I..." I trail off, not quite able to say it. "While I wasn't quite human."
Freya's expression is a mixture of pity and anger. "He had no right. Whatever his reasons, he had no right to take that choice from you."
"What choice?"
"To be what you were born to be. To understand your own nature instead of having it suppressed and hidden." She pulls a small cloth bag from her pocket. "My grandmother left me instructions. Prophecies about a girl who would come to Blackthorn Academy during a significant lunar cycle. A girl with silver in her blood and secrets in her past. She said when this girl appeared, I was to give her something."
She opens the bag, pulling out a pendant on a silver chain. It's a simple circle with an intricate pattern etched inside, not quite a compass rose, not quite a mandala. Something older.
"This is a protective charm," Freya says, holding it up so it catches the light filtering through the chapel windows. "It won't stop what's happening to you. Nothing can do that now…the process has begun and can't be reversed. But it will help you stay grounded. Help you maintain control when your instincts start overriding your reason."
"Why would my instincts override my reason?"
"Because instincts are powerful. Especially when you're new to them, when they're waking up after being suppressed your whole life. This charm will give you an anchor point. Something to focus on when everything else feels chaotic."
She offers it to me, the silver chain pooling in her palm.
I stare at it, thinking about the pendant in my dream-memory. The wolf-shaped one Father burned. "Is this connected to my mother somehow?"
"Not directly. My grandmother made it specifically for you. But yes, she knew about your mother's family. The Silvermanes."
The name hits me with recognition I can't quite place. "Who were they?"
"That's part of what you need to discover yourself. But I can tell you this: they were important. Powerful. And your father did everything possible to erase evidence they ever existed."
I take the pendant, feeling the weight of it. The silver is warm from Freya's hand. When I clasp it around my neck, settling under my shirt, something in my chest eases slightly. Like static clearing from a radio signal.
"It works immediately?" I ask.
"You're already more grounded than you were a minute ago. You were vibrating with tension when you climbed up here. Now you're calmer."
She's right. The constant hum of anxiety that's been present for days has quieted to a manageable level.
"Thank you," I say, touching the pendant through my shirt. "But Freya, you keep dancing around the actual truth. What am I? What are these people at school who 'aren't what they seem'? If you know, if your grandmother knew, why won't you just tell me directly?"
"Because some revelations have to come naturally, or your mind will reject them. If I told you right now what you are, what you're becoming, you'd dismiss it as impossible. You'd convince yourself I'm delusional or that this is some elaborate prank." She touches my hand briefly. "But you're already starting to figure it out, aren't you? Deep down, you know."
I think about the enhanced hearing, the craving for raw meat, the impossible athletic performance. The dreams of running on four legs through forests. My mother's silver eyes.
"People at this school," I say slowly. "The ones who aren't what they seem. What are they?"
"Different things. The supernatural world is more diverse than humans realize. But at Blackthorn specifically?" She counts on her fingers. "Three witches including me. Five fae descendants, though they're only quarter-blood. One vampire who's managing to pass as a goth student with anemia. And..." She pauses. "A significant number of others. Others who are very interested in you."
"How many?"
"I've confirmed at least twelve. Possibly more hiding their nature better."
"Twelve what?"
But Freya just shakes her head. "You'll recognize them when you're ready. Your instincts will tell you what they are. What you share with them."
"And Declan?"
The question hangs between us. Freya's expression shifts, becoming more guarded.
"What about Declan?"
"Is he one of them? One of the people who aren't what they seem?"
"Yes."
"What is he?"
"The same thing you are. Or will be, very soon."
My heart hammers against my ribs. "And is that why I feel... why there's this pull between us? This feeling like I'm supposed to…"
"Yes. What you're feeling is real. Ancient and powerful and not something either of you chose." She squeezes my hand. 
"How long do I have?"
"Until the next full moon. That's when the choice will be made for you, one way or another. Your body will complete what your father started suppressing. You'll transform fully, and there's no hiding it after that."
"Transform into what?"
Freya just looks at me, her expression patient and knowing.
And suddenly, all the pieces click together. The wolf pendant. The mother with silver eyes. The enhanced senses and predatory instincts. Declan's intensity and barely controlled responses. The selkie conversation about being trapped in the wrong form.
"Werewolf," I whisper.
"My mother was a werewolf," I continue, the words coming faster. "And my father killed her. Not to save me, but because he was terrified of what she was. What I would become."
"Yes."
"And he's been suppressing it. Keeping me human artificially. Using magic or drugs or whatever he could find to stop me from being what I was born to be."
"Yes."
"And now it's breaking through. The suppression is failing because…" I stop, realization dawning. "Because of Declan. Because of whatever this bond is between us. It's stronger than Father's magic."
"A mate bond," Freya says softly. "One of the most powerful forces in the supernatural world. Your father never anticipated you'd meet your mate, especially not at a school he chose specifically because he thought it was safe."
"But it's not safe. It's full of..." I gesture helplessly. "People like me. Like Declan."
"Your father made a critical miscalculation. He assumed Blackthorn's reputation for excellence and discipline would mean it was mostly human. He didn't realize that supernatural families send their children here precisely because it's isolated and secure. Because the staff ask fewer questions than they would at other schools."
"So he sent me right into the middle of what he's been trying to protect me from."
"Ironic, isn't it?" Freya stands, offering me her hand. "Come on. We should get you to class before people start asking questions."
I let her pull me up, but I don't move toward the ladder. "Freya, you said some people might want to hurt me. Because of what I'm becoming. Who?"
"I don't know specifically. But your father isn't the only person who hunts, who has negative views about supernatural beings. And you're going to be powerful, Vivienne. The Silvermane bloodline is legendary for a reason. That kind of power attracts attention. Not all of it friendly."
"How do I protect myself?"
"You learn. Fast. You accept what you are instead of fighting it. You let people who care about you, like Declan, like me, help you navigate this new world." She moves toward the ladder. "And you trust your instincts. They're waking up for a reason."
We climb down together, the chapel feeling less ominous now that I understand why Freya uses it. At the door, she stops me with a hand on my arm.
"One more thing. Your father will notice the changes accelerating. He'll probably try to increase the suppression or pull you out of school entirely. If he does, you need to resist. Because running now…going back into isolation…that could kill you. The transformation is already too advanced to reverse."
"He wouldn't…" But I stop, remembering the dream-memory. Father with the syringe, desperate and terrified. "He might."
"He definitely will. He's been planning for this possibility for seventeen years. He'll have contingencies." Freya's grip tightens. "Promise me you won't go with him willingly. That you'll fight to stay here, where you have support."
"I promise."
"Good." She releases me. "Now go. First period starts in ten minutes, and you don't want to be late for Patterson's class."
I start walking toward the academic building, then turn back. "Freya? Your grandmother's prophecies. Did she say anything else about me? About what's going to happen?"
Freya's expression becomes inscrutable. "She said a lot of things. But prophecies are tricky, they show possibilities, not certainties. What she saw for you..." She trails off, seeming to choose her words carefully. "She called you the silver moon child. Said you'd either bridge two worlds or burn them both to ash. That your choice would determine whether peace or war came to the supernatural community."
"That's a lot of pressure for a seventeen-year-old who just found out werewolves exist."
"Yes. It is." Freya smiles, but there's sadness in it. "But my grandmother also said you were strong enough to carry it. That you had your mother's power and your father's determination. That combination would make you either a savior or a catastrophe."
"Which did she think I'd be?"
"She died before she could see clearly. The future kept shifting, like you were standing at a crossroads that branched into infinite possibilities." Freya backs toward the path leading to the staff residences. "But Vivienne? I think you'll surprise everyone. Including yourself."
She walks away, leaving me standing in front of the chapel with a protective charm around my neck and a prophecy weighing on my shoulders.
Bridge two worlds or burn them both to ash.
No pressure at all.

I make it to Patterson's class with two minutes to spare. Declan is already there, sitting in his usual spot near the back. He looks better…the fever flush is gone, his eyes are their normal grey instead of dilated black. But when I enter, he goes very still, his attention locking onto me immediately.
I touch the pendant under my shirt, feeling its grounding presence, and make my way to my seat.
"Miss Ashford," Patterson says without looking up from his notes. "Nice of you to join us. Please turn to page forty-three in your textbooks. We're discussing the Highland Clearances' impact on clan structure."
I open my textbook, hyperaware of Declan behind me. Can feel his gaze like a physical touch.
Halfway through the lesson, my mobile vibrates in my pocket. I sneak a glance under the desk.
A text from an unknown number: The pendant. Did Freya give it to you?
I type back carefully: Yes. How do you know about it?
Because I can smell the magic. It's helping. You feel more settled. - D
You can smell magic?
I can smell everything about you. It's distracting.
Heat floods my face. I risk a glance over my shoulder. Declan's watching me, his expression intense but controlled. Different from the barely restrained desperation of yesterday.
I turn back to my textbook, trying to focus on Highland clan structure while my mind spins with revelations.
Werewolf.
Mate bond.
Silver moon child.
Bridge or burn.
The words circle through my thoughts, overwhelming and impossible and somehow inevitable.
When class ends, I gather my books quickly, intending to leave before Declan can corner me. But he's faster, appearing at my desk before I've even closed my bag.
"Vivienne."
"Hi."
"The pendant. Don't take it off."
"I wasn't planning to."
"I'm serious. Whatever Freya told you…however much she explained…the pendant will help. Especially during the full moon."
I meet his eyes, seeing the concern there. "How much do you know about what I am?"
"Everything." His voice drops. "And we need to talk about it. Soon. Before…"
"Before what?"
"Before everything changes." He glances around the emptying classroom. "Meet me tonight. The gardens behind the library. Eight o'clock."
"Freya said I should stay away from you."
"Freya's right to be cautious. But you deserve answers. And I'm the only one who can give you all of them." He steps back as Patterson looks up from his desk. "Eight o'clock. Please."
He leaves before I can respond, and I'm left clutching my textbook, the pendant warm against my chest, and the certainty that tonight will change everything.
Whether I want it to or not.