Invisible Marks

Sophia POV

The witch looked me up and down, evaluating me, and I know she is trying to read my soul, but I am too complex for that to be easy. In this incarnation, I am just a human, which makes it even more difficult to discover my true identity as a Chimera. Her penetrating gaze seemed to scrutinize every layer of my existence, trying to find some hidden clue, something that would reveal what I really am. But she wouldn't be able to. I spent years hiding, rebuilding who I am, and it wouldn't be that simple to unravel me.

“You have a very strong magic in your body.” The witch informed me, her voice filled with a certainty that made me shiver. “When you underwent the recovery surgeries, an entire coven cast a very strong spell so that you would not be found or even recognized by Ivar Volkheim… But, with Gáta's help, that spell weakened, and he managed to find you.”

Shangō Furen declared, and I noticed in her expression that she was impressed by the situation. If even a powerful witch like her was surprised, then it meant that the forces surrounding my destiny were even more complex than I imagined.

“The problem is that this spell also messed with the Bond of Fate. I don't know if it was intentional or not, but, in any case, if the spell was accepted by Moros, then it means it is valid.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, anxious to understand more about it. The pieces were starting to fit together, but the feeling that I had no control over my own destiny deeply bothered me.

After all, this was one of our theories when we didn't know what I was.

“That Ivar remains your companion, but that Achilles is also your companion. It is up to you to decide who should continue as your companion.” Shangō replied, her voice serene, yet firm. “With my help, we can perform the rejection ritual on just one end of the bond.”

I looked at Ivar unconscious on the floor, his body motionless, his presence weighing in the environment like a burden I didn't want to carry.

“I would never choose him.” I responded determinedly, feeling my heart race at the mere idea of being tied to him forever.

“I understand, but know that when you choose, you won't be able to go back. The rejection ritual only works once. This means that you will be bound to Achilles for the rest of your life.” Shangō informed me, and the firmness in her voice made me swallow hard.

These words had a much deeper meaning than she could imagine. The curse inside me will spread, and I will put the Moon Warriors pack in danger.

There was the possibility of rejecting all of them, but that would mean revealing my bond with Perseus. Something told me that this detail had been overlooked, or perhaps even deliberately hidden. If Shangō didn't mention this bond, then maybe even she didn't know about it.

“What is on your mind? I thought the choice would be easy.” The witch spoke more incisively, studying me with renewed attention.

“It's not a matter of choice. I will choose Achilles no matter what… My problem is the implications of that choice.” I replied calmly. It was the truth, just not the whole truth.

“Are you afraid to go back to the Moon Warriors pack?” Shangō asked more gently, as if trying to comfort me.

I brought my hand to my chest, feeling the extra scar that Perseus left me. My heart raced, my breathing became irregular, and my hands became sweaty. I still don't understand why he acted that way, and my emotional side, which took so much from Ivar, won't let me forgive Perseus so soon.

My Alpha lost my trust, and to regain it, it will be very difficult. But I am willing to listen to his explanations… However, that doesn't mean I am ready to forgive him.

“Your physical reaction was very strong.” Shangō approached and held my hand. Her power passed through my body like a wave of warm energy, calming the tremors I hadn't even noticed I had. “I will ask that you stay away from the Alpha, at least for a while.”

My heart tightened at this suggestion, but I know it is the most rational thing to do. I can't trust him yet, and getting too close would only complicate things.

“Are you ready to go back?” Shangō asked, her voice softer now.

I nodded, but then my gaze fell on Ivar, who was beginning to wake up. His body moved slowly and hesitantly, as if trying to find strength to get up.

“He will come with us, as he needs to be judged by the Council of Races.” Shangō answered my silent question before I could even formulate it. “But don't worry, he won't be able to hurt you anymore.”

“If he tries, he will die.” I responded quickly, my voice firm, without hesitation. “Nothing in me will let him hurt me.”

Shangō smiled slightly, and before I could react, a bluish mist began to form around us. The air around me became dense, and then I was enveloped by the energy, feeling as if I was being carried to another plane. It was like being among the clouds, the touch cold, but at the same time soft and gentle. Time seemed to slow down for a moment, and when the mist dissipated, I realized I was in a different place, completely different from the room I occupied before.

The smell was different, the air seemed heavier, laden with expectations. Something inside me told me that from this moment on, nothing would be the same again.

It was a spacious room, and my eyes were immediately drawn to the impeccable combination of the old and the modern. In the center, a round dark wood table, carved with subtle details, was surrounded by four high-back chairs, upholstered in a beige fabric that reflected the soft glow of the chandelier above. The warm light from the lamps mixed with the wrought iron structure, creating elegant shadows on the stone walls and polished wood panels. High windows, adorned with discreet stained glass, filtered the natural light, casting colored reflections on the shiny wooden floor. The fireplace in the corner, with its carved stone mantel, brought a cozy feeling to the environment, making it both imposing and inviting.

I looked around, and at the door stood another man, his eyes an enigma in flames, a deep amber that seemed to carry ancient and dangerous secrets. The glow of the fire reflected in them, giving him an almost supernatural aura, as if he didn't entirely belong to this world. His red hair, tied in a high ponytail, fell in wild strands around his sharp face, and each strand seemed to capture the light like living flames. There was something about him that exuded power and mystery, a presence that dominated the space around him effortlessly.

His black attire, detailed with red embroidery in the shape of dragons, highlighted the imposing nature of his posture. Broad shoulders, firm stance, like a warrior who already knew the taste of battle and the burden of leadership. His expression was severe, almost unshakable, but there was a latent danger there. He seemed made for war, to command, and somehow, to set everything around him on fire.