Chapter 29 Chapter 29: The Returning Spark

Chapter 29 Chapter 29: The Returning Spark
Calistra’s POV

I sat on my small, lumpy bed and stared at my hands. The room was dark, save for the sliver of moonlight cutting through the tiny window. My mind was spinning faster than a whirlwind. Rafael’s words kept echoing in my head: “I didn't touch Beatrice. I wouldn't dirty my hands for an Omega.”

He was too arrogant to lie about something like that. If he had been the one terrorizing Beatrice, he would have bragged about it just to show me how much "property" I was to him. But he didn't. He looked genuinely annoyed by the whole thing.
So, if it wasn’t the Alpha’s son… who was it?

I closed my eyes and tried to remember the moment Beatrice slipped. I remembered the flash of anger I felt the hot, burning desire to see her fall after she called me a "low-life." And then, she just… fell. 

I remembered the moment she reached for my bucket, and I wished, with everything I had, that she would get a taste of her own medicine. And the bucket moved.

A small, shaky laugh escaped my lips.

"It was me," I whispered. "It was me all along."

Before I got trapped inside Zara's weak body, before I was sent here and everything was taken from me, I wasn't just some weak Omega. I was Calistra, the moon goddess who mated Alpha's to their fated mate. 

I had powerful magic, the kind that most wolves forgot existed. But after being pushed here and losing my title as the moon goddess,  and being forced into the identity of "Zara," a lowly servant, that power had gone bone-dry.

I thought I was empty. I thought I was as weak as everyone said I was.

But Rafael being near that monster of a mate was doing something to me. His raw Alpha son’s energy was like a battery, and my body was starting to soak it up. The hate, the bond, the tension… it was waking up the sleeping giant inside me.
I wasn't just a cursed girl. I was a weapon that was finally being sharpened.



The next few days were delicious. That’s the only way I can describe it.

I walked through the pack house with my head held a little higher, even with my limp. I noticed Beatrice immediately. 

She was scrubbing the baseboards in the hallway, a job she usually forced me to do. When she saw me coming, she didn't bark an order. 

She didn't even sneer. She looked at me, dropped her brush, and practically scrambled into the shadows.

She was terrified. She had started avoiding me like I was a plague. 

I heard her telling another maid in the kitchen that I had "evil eyes" and that the Moon Goddess was punishing anyone who touched me.

The rumors were spreading like a wildfire in a dry forest. The "Weak Omega" was now the "Cursed Omega."

"Did you see?" a younger maid whispered as I walked into the laundry room. 

"Beatrice tried to trip Zara again yesterday, and a heavy shelf of linens just… fell on her. Didn't hit her, but trapped her there for an hour. No one heard her screaming."

I kept my face like stone, but inside, my wolf was wagging her tail. I didn't join in when the other maids started mocking Beatrice behind her back. 

I knew how it felt to be the target. But I didn't stop them either. I just felt a cold, hard sense of justice. They had hurt "Zara" for years. Now, Calistra was making them pay.



But as much as I loved my returning powers, I looked at myself in the mirror of the servant's washroom and felt a wave of disgust.

Zara’s body, my body was thin. Too thin. My ribs showed, my arms were like sticks, and my skin was pale from spending too much time scrubbing floors in the dark. I was slow, I was easily bruised, and I was tired of it.

The name "Zara" felt like a cage. Everyone saw me as a victim. Even Rafael, in his own twisted way, saw me as something to be "protected" or "broken." He called me a nuisance. He called me weak.

"No more," I growled at my reflection. My eyes flashed a brief, brilliant violet before returning to their dull brown. 

"I'm done being the girl who trips. I'm done being the girl who can't fight back."

I realized that if I was going to survive Rafael and this pack, I couldn't just rely on accidental magic. 

I needed to fix this body. I needed to turn Zara into a warrior.



That night, instead of sleeping, I waited until the pack house went quiet. I could feel Rafael's presence somewhere in the floors above a heavy, restless pulse of energy. 

He was awake, probably pacing his room like the caged beast he was.

I slipped out of the servant quarters and headed toward the old storage barn near the edge of the woods. 

It was filled with old crates and heavy sacks of grain. It was the perfect place to start.

I stood in the center of the barn, the smell of hay and old wood filling my lungs. I tried to lift a heavy sack of flour. 

My muscles screamed. My weak Omega heart hammered in my chest. I couldn't even budge it.

"Pathetic," I hissed at myself.

I sat on the dirt floor and closed my eyes. I didn't try to lift it with my hands this time. 

I reached inside, searching for that spark that heat that had tripped Beatrice and moved the bucket. I found it, buried deep under layers of fear and sadness.

Move, I commanded.

The sack of flour shook.

Lift, I thought, my teeth grinding together.

It rose an inch off the ground before slamming back down. I felt a sharp pain in my head, but I didn't stop. I did it again. And again. And again.

I spent hours in that barn. I pushed my body until I was shaking from exhaustion. I did squats, I did push-ups until my arms gave out, and I used my returning spark to add "weight" to my movements. 

I was training my muscles and my magic at the same time.

Every time I wanted to quit, I pictured Rafael’s arrogant face. I pictured him pinning me in the library, telling me he enjoyed seeing me suffer. 

I pictured him pushing me away in the shed like I was trash.

"I am not a nuisance," I whispered, lifting a heavy crate with a mix of my hands and my will. "I am the woman who is going to make you kneel."

By the time I started heading back to my room, the sky was turning a dark, bruised purple. I was covered in sweat and dust, and my legs felt like lead. 

I was limping, but not because of my injury it was because I had worked myself to the bone.

I rounded the corner of the stone path, and my heart stopped.

Rafael was there.

He was leaning against the stone wall, his eyes fixed on the woods. He looked like he had been out for a run; his hair was messy, and he was breathing heavily. When he smelled me, his head snapped in my direction.

"Where the hell have you been?" he demanded, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.

I didn't shrink back this time. I stood my ground, even though I was exhausted. "I couldn't sleep. I went for a walk."

He walked toward me, his eyes scanning me from head to toe. His nostrils flared as he caught the scent of sweat, hay, and that electric spark of my magic. 

He stopped right in front of me, his shadow swallowing me whole.

"You look like you've been rolling in the dirt," he said, reaching out to brush a piece of hay from my shoulder. His fingers lingered for a second too long, and I felt that familiar jolt of electricity. 

"And your scent… it’s changing."

"Maybe I'm just finally washing the 'Zara the weak omega' off of me," I said, meeting his gaze.

He narrowed his eyes. "You're acting strange. First the accidents with Beatrice, and now you're wandering the grounds at 4:00 AM. What are you playing at, Omega?"

"I'm not playing at anything, Rafael," I said, stepping closer to him. I was tired of being afraid of him. I was tired of the "Hate" part of this bond. 

If he wanted a war, I’d give him one, but I wouldn't be his victim anymore. "I'm just tired of being weak. 

Don't you like watching me struggle? Well, watch this. I'm going to become someone you can't ignore."

Rafael’s expression shifted. The anger was there, but under it was a flash of something else admiration? Hunger? He grabbed my arm, his grip firm but not painful.

"You think a little exercise and some weird luck with Beatrice makes you a match for me?" he whispered, his face inches from mine. 

"You're still an Omega. You're still chained to me."

"Then you better watch your back, Rafael," I whispered back, a small, knowing smile touching my lips. 

"Because the chain works both ways. If I'm tied to you, then you're tied to me. And I’m starting to think you're more scared of that than I am."

He let go of my arm like I had burned him. He looked at me with fury and confusion, his chest heaving.

"Go to your room," he growled, turning away. "Before I forget my manners and give you the punishment you’re begging for."

I didn't run. I walked past him, my head held high. I could feel his eyes on me the whole way back to the house.

I knew he could feel the change in me. I wasn't just a nuisance anymore. I was becoming a threat. And as I closed my door and finally collapsed into sleep, I had one final thought.

Watch out, Rafael. Calistra is coming back.