The shadows in my room stretched longer than usual, painting slow-moving monsters across the walls as the sun bled out behind the hills. This was the evening and another hour without Axel.
I sat cross-legged on my bed, still wearing the oversized hoodie he’d lent the last ti he was here. It slled like him: earthy and sweet, a bit like pine needles and danger, and I hated how much comfort that gave , as though it was a substitute for his absence.
I had waited. Waited all day for him. Made excuses for him in my head like a pitiful, love-struck teenager: Maybe he got caught up with pack duties. Maybe sothing urgent happened. Maybe he didn’t forget. He wouldn’t forget. He cares... right?
The agreent was that he’d co over today. He even promised to get gifts. Yet, his absence was all I got. It was already a day before the wedding. We needed to plan, to strategize.
His absence would jeopardize this for us. It would ruin all that we had invested in trying to ensure we end up together. What was it now?
Does he suddenly realize how wrong he was to choose an oga over a powerful Luna wolf?
Argh, no.
"Have so faith in your love, María José." I chastised myself.
Axel was nothing like that. He was probably the most straightforward person I had ever t. So what was the problem?
I sighed, and my eyes flicked to the journal sitting beside like a coiled snake. Rosa’s journal.
The very sa one Ignacio had pressed into my hands like it was made of glass and brimstone. His warning still echoed in my skull: You will need strength for what’s in there, María José. More than you think you have.
Dramatic demon man. I couldn’t believe I slept on the sa bed with a demon. What was it? Did he leave the pits of hell to co chill with ?
Enough about that maniacal demon for now. I needed to take the lead, set everything straight, and be ready for when Axel returned.
The journal was here. I was more than ready to open it back then at Rosa’s secret cottage when Ignacio was with .
However, now that I was alone, I just couldn’t bring myself to. Was Ignacio correct? Sohow, I needed a man. But I still didn’t open it.
I had wanted Axel here. Needed him here. Because deep down, I was afraid. Not of what I’d find—though, God, that was part of it... but of what it would do to . Ignacio’s tone hadn’t been light.
No, it was the sort of tone n used when delivering bad news at funerals. The kind of voice that wraps around your throat and squeezes.
Still, Axel hadn’t co. And I was tired of waiting.
So I took the journal in my trembling hands, traced the worn leather cover with the tips of my fingers, and flipped it open.
At first, it was just ink and loops and neat little lines. Rosa’s handwriting was the sa as always—ticulous, perfect. Just like her. Even her dark secrets were going to be color-coded and alphabetized, weren’t they?
But then... then the entries changed.
"I’ve made contact. The witches are difficult to trust, but the offer was too tempting to refuse. He said it would work. That it had to."
That was the first punch to the gut. My lips moved without sound as I reread the lines. Contact? Offer?
"They told the ritual needed sothing rare. Sothing ancient. A wolf strong enough to replace the one I was denied. I was ready to give anything. And I did."
W-what?
What the hell was that supposed to an? The wolf she was denied? As in, she didn’t have a wolf?
How so?
Was I reading it wrongly? What ritual? What wolf?
The air grew cold around . I swallowed, feeling my throat drying up like sandpaper. My fingers itched to slam the book shut, throw it across the room, burn it to ash—but I didn’t. I couldn’t. Not when the pages still whispered.
"Mama was already weak. The spell hastened it. Father suspected sothing, of course. But he was too busy playing husband to notice I was becoming whole. When her Luna wolf started fading, I knew I had done it right."
I stopped breathing.
My hands turned to ice.
No.
The room tilted. Or maybe it was . Maybe my heart stopped and restarted in a different chest. My mouth hung open, trembling, as I reread the paragraph four, five, six tis.
"Her Luna wolf..."
"...the spell hastened it..."
"...I knew I had done it right."
A sound tore from . I don’t even know what it was. A sob? A growl? So monstrous, broken sound not ant to be made by a person still pretending to be whole?
"Mamá..."
I whispered it like a prayer, like the na alone could rewind ti and save her. I pressed my hand to my chest like that would sohow keep my heart from breaking. But it cracked anyway.
It didn’t make sense.
Rosa loved Mamá. She-we-we—we—we all did. She was the best of us. She laughed with her whole face, hugged with her whole soul. She made the best arroz con leche and told bedti stories that made us believe we were royalty. She—She-she wouldn’t...
I flipped to the next page. I should have stopped.
"It was the greatest sacrifice I could make. Proof of love. That I would do anything to fix the mistake of being born broken. Mamá should have understood. She should have taken responsibility for what she gave —or didn’t."
I dropped the book.
Literally dropped it like it had burned . My legs folded under . My breath hitched, sharp and painful, like I’d swallowed glass. My heart slamd against my ribs so hard I thought it would break right through.
"She killed her," I said, aloud this ti, the words foreign and sour in my mouth. "She killed Mamá. She stole Mamá’s wolf and took it for herself. It k-killed her."
Reviews
All reviews (0)