Chapter 60

"Who are you?"

"Are wolves always so rude?" the young man inserts, looking displeased, and I instinctively tense up and glare at him. How old is he? He's exaggerating his carelessness, that's for sure.

"Keir," Eleanor says and gives him a look, reflecting his disapproving tone from before. The young man shrugs but goes quiet, and she turns to me again, exhaling her displeasure before looking up. "So do you want to start all over? I'm Eleanor, and these nasty kids are Gwen and

Keir."

I look between them, meeting a sweet smile and a quirked eyebrow from the siblings respectively. Not that knowing their names makes it any better.

“You are witches.”

“Correct.” Eleanor smiles as if she doesn’t hear the grim note in my voice. I tense up, and a short silence settles between us as I fervently think of a way out of here.

The tea or whatever it was did help me, but who knows what else they plan to do with me? Their family has probably lived here for a long time—ever since their ancestors tried to exterminate every wolf spirit on both mountains. I shift a little, glancing at the door, and Eleanor clears her throat as if sensing my intention.

“Would you like to introduce yourself too?”

I wouldn’t—but I don’t have a choice. It’s only fair to exchange something so simple.

“I’m Gray,” I mutter as if it’s my biggest secret.

Eleanor hums and nods. “A member of the new wolf pack.”

Is that a question? Doesn’t sound like it. But I guess if they hadn’t known about us at all, they wouldn’t be as eager to invite me in. So I hesitate but give her a cautious nod in the end. Shit, they aren’t gonna use that against us, are they?

"Your curse,” Eleanor says all of a sudden, and I purse my lips.

What about it? “You didn't get it here, did you?"

Ha. Does she think I’m gonna talk about it so easily? Any information about the curse will ultimately allow them to use it against me, and I’ve already made that mistake today. I opened up to Paula, and where did it get me? I purse my lips, ignoring the sting in my heart, and shake my head. I’m not gonna talk about it.

I hear a huff, and it’s obvious where it comes from. Keir looks at me with mocking disbelief in his eyes, and the gaze itself annoys me to the core. Who does he think is?

“We are trying to help you,” he says as if it’s obvious, and I raise my eyebrows.

“How?”

“Gwen can heal you.”

“I can try,” Gwen hurries to add, and when I turn to her in surprise, she looks me in the eyes and shrugs, her smile almost apologetic. “I’ve done this before.”

Yeah, okay, but that’s not an explanation.

“Why would you do that?”

Gwen shrugs again as if saving a life is not a big deal. “Because I want to help.”

“Do you help any stranger you meet?”

“She does,” Keir inserts, looking at his sister with an expression that clearly shows he isn’t fond of her altruism. Gwen only glares back at him for a couple of seconds and suddenly sticks her tongue out at him. Yeah, okay. How old are they, again?

“Gwen has the skills and patience to cure you.” Eleanor attracts my attention again, crossing her legs and leaning forward a little, looking at me with a calm smile. “You may not trust us—but the curse is rather strong, and you won’t make it without help.”

Yeah, I can feel the itch of dark energy under my skin, tamed for now but surely ready to wake up as soon as the effect of the tea weakens. But I still have no intention of trusting them out of the blue. Witches have done enough to show the true nature of their hearts, and my frown deepens as I think back to Paula. God, how stupid I was…

“You hate us,” I remind them, glancing at Keir before turning to Eleanor again—but she only huffs and waves a hand, rolling her eyes.

"Ah, that’s an old story. You don't bother us. Why would we hate you?" And she gestures at the three of them with the word ‘we’ on her lips.

I follow her gesture with my gaze, taking in the room once again— the soft glow of candles, the sweetish scent of dried herbs, the warmth of magical energy that doesn’t feel hostile. Nothing does here, and yet…How am I supposed to trust them after everything that happened? I look at Eleanor again, more tired than angry at this point. Painful or not, the curse soaks energy out of me, and I slump a little with a sigh.

“I’ve been cursed for four years,” I murmur and close my eyes for a moment to steady myself before glancing at Gwen. “I doubt you can change that.”

But Eleanor perks up a little, listening more attentively. Do they really want to know more about my curse? I fidget and wince when my back brushes the back of the armchair, and Eleanor hums. “Did someone curse you?”

"Yeah. Twice,” I add bitterly, unable to stop the heartache from pouring into my words. God, I really have to stop thinking about Paula. Whatever there was between us, it’s over and done now.

Apparently, Eleanor didn’t expect to hear that. She frowns and looks at me in confusion, tilting her head. "What do you mean?"

Ah, shit. Do I really have to explain it? I look away, the sour taste of betrayal stinging on the tip of my tongue, and mutter, "Well, I'm here because one of yours played a bad joke on me."

"I think you've misunderstood something."

Have I? Or is she trying to make me feel better about Paula for whatever goddamn reason? I chuckle and shake my head, a familiar ache spreading in the middle of my chest. No, it’s obvious. Paula lured me into her arms and used it to get back at me and my family. For what? Who the hell knows? Maybe for bringing the pack back to life, maybe for taking up space on the mountain. Maybe just for fun, right?

I clench my jaw, thinking about her teasing smiles and demanding touches, about the scent of her skin, about the warmth of her eyes—I close my eyes, forcing the memories out of my mind. No, everything between us was a bad bad joke, no matter how much Eleanor wants me to change my mind.

“Are you trying to cover for her?” I look at Eleanor with a grim frown, showing right away that I’m not gonna buy it—but she looks even more confused now.

“No, I’m telling you what we know for sure. You were caught by the blood flowers. There are plenty of them on both sides of the valley.” She gestures vaguely at the window, and I see Gwen nod from the corner of my eye. “They stay hidden, usually, but when they sense weakness in a person, they lure them in—especially if it's a wolf."

What? I stare at Eleanor, struggling to accept what she’s told me. She’s just making it up, of course. It can’t be true, it can’t be—and yet I remember the sickly scent of red flowers and how they seemed to crowd me onto the ground. Blood flowers? Makes sense—but at the same time, it makes no sense at all. Besides…

“How do you know what happened there?” I quirk an eyebrow at her and straighten up a little, feeling proud for catching such a silly detail Eleanor managed to miss. But she only smirks with amusement, unbothered by my question, and glances at Keir.

“Let’s say, we were told about you.”

“I was alone there.”

"You're never alone,” Eleanor says with a smile, as if any of her explanations make any sense, her calm eyes watching me as I struggle to understand her. “Think about all the wolves and witches that died in these forests for the sake of stupid brawls."

Died? What does she mean, died? I stare at her in bewilderment, feeling a little like they’re just making fun of me, and Gwen sighs in her place next to my armchair. “Mom, I think you’ve made it worse. Hey, Gray?” She turns to me with an awkward smile. “Forget about it. Do you want me to help you or not?”

Damn it. I don’t know if they talked me out of my mind just to weaken my guard, but I do feel hesitant now. I’d been living with the fear of waking the curse up again, and now that it has happened, who knows how and if I will get out of it at all? And even if I do, what then? Years and years of more anxiety, nightmares, and tension every time Asya or Rorie touch me. I could avoid witches in the past, but now…

I can’t help but think of Paula again. God, I have fallen in love with her, haven’t I? And if it’s true, if she really wants to be with me…I shake my head. No. How can I fall for her so easily? How can I even think about trusting a witch again, and one I’ve known for no more than a day? It’s stupid, it’s dangerous, and it’s so so careless. What if Gwen instills another curse on me? What if all of their kindness is just a mask?

I stare at my feet, saying nothing, when Keir clears his throat all of a sudden. “By the way, someone is trying to reach us. Quite a group of people.”

How does he know? What kind of witchcraft is that? I look up at Keir, my head buzzing with questions, and he meets my gaze with a calm smirk. Damn. If Gwen is such a powerful healer…then who is her brother?

“People?” Eleanor double-checks in the meantime, not a hint of surprise in her curious voice.

“Ah, not really. Wolves and witches alike.”

Wolves and witches…I blink and immediately perk up. Is he talking about my pack? Just the thought of seeing them again sends a wave of thrill through my veins, and I sit up straight—only to wince when the curse under my skin pulls tighter at the movement. The jolt of pain makes me sober up, and I slump back into the chair with a heavy breath. Wait. How did they figure out how to find me?

The confusion is obvious in my eyes, and Eleanor chuckles, murmuring with soft amusement, “Looks like that girl used her powers for good.”

Girl? Paula? My thoughts immediately dart to her, swirling like a whirlwind. Has she really been looking for me? I swallow and close my eyes. Even in my weak and broken state, I hear my heart beating faster at the thought of her. My wolf spirit fidgets meekly in its slumber, craving something I don’t understand. Or maybe I do—but I’m not ready to accept it yet.