"I don't have ADHD, Selene."
"Don't you?" Vanessa looks surprised.
"Do I?" My surprise mirrors hers.
"I assud you… Well, I'm not a doctor, only a pack healer, so I could be wrong."
"ADHD or not, we're taking too long. Let's go, children. Ava, finish your conversation or talk while you walk, please."
Sister Miriam's stern housemistress voice has us all straightening up and following, as I mutter into the phone, "We're all safe, and have a few things to tell you later when we get settled."
Kellan sighs. "Make sure you call, Ava. And call Lucas too. You know he's going to be worried. I've already updated him through text. Since he hasn't blown my phone up or ripped my head off from afar, I can only assu he's busy with the Council."
"Got it. I will."
Hanging up, I see Vanessa sliding her own phone into her pocket, flashing an amused smile in my direction. "Had to text Vester and warn him."
"Doesn't he know you're doing this?"
"Of course, but he worries."
As we walk, Vanessa quickens her pace to catch up with Sister Miriam. "What did you an earlier, before we went through the portal? About that vampire in Blackwood territory never existing?"
Sister Miriam pauses, turning to face us with an enigmatic smile. "Ah, yes. Marjory, was it? The one who died screaming during your interrogation?"
My best guess is that she's talking about my neighbor, Margot Mitchell. The idea that she's dead sits heavy on my mind; I'm not sure how to feel about it.
"How did you even know about it?" Marcus interjects.
"We have our ways, wolf." Sister Miriam sighs. "That vampire was not real," she continues, her voice low and serious. "He was a fabrication, a clever illusion designed to sow fear and chaos within your pack."
"But why?" Confused, I trot a little faster to reach her side. "Who would do sothing like that?"
Sister Miriam shakes her head. "That, my dear, is a question with a complicated answer. One that I believe you will discover in due ti."
"So you won't answer us."
"There are so things I cannot tell you, wolf. No matter what price is given."
As we navigate the winding corridors of the mansion, I find myself drawn to the eclectic mix of artifacts on display. A gleaming sword catches my eye, its blade etched with intricate runes that seem to shimr in the light.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Sister Miriam notes, following my gaze. "That sword once belonged to a great warrior, a man who fought alongside the Fae in a battle that shaped the very fabric of our world."
I reach out, my fingertips hovering just above the cool tal. "How did you co to possess it?"
Sister Miriam chuckles. "Let's just say that I have a knack for acquiring rare and valuable items. Over the centuries, I've amassed quite the collection."
Centuries. The word hangs in the air, a reminder of the vast chasm of experience and knowledge that separates Sister Miriam from the rest of us. I can't even begin to imagine the things she's seen, the secrets she holds.
"And this is just the beginning," Sister Miriam says, as if reading my thoughts. "There is so much more for you to discover, Ava."
We're led to what appears to be the main foyer, where a peculiar group awaits our arrival.
Two of them bear a striking resemblance to the thralls who served during my previous visit to Sister Miriam's ho. However, it's the third individual who captures my attention—an incredibly short woman, standing no taller than a five- or six-year-old child.
Despite her youthful stature, her face reveals the maturity of a woman well into her forties. Long blonde pigtails fra her pretty features.
Marcus, Vanessa, and I falter in our steps, taken aback by the sight before us. Vanessa mutters under her breath, her dical knowledge kicking into gear as she attempts to rationalize the woman's unique proportions. "Not dwarfism," she whispers, her brow furrowed in concentration. "She's too proportionate for that. Maybe it's so other condition..."
Before Vanessa can continue her speculations, the woman in question speaks in exasperation. "Haven't you ever seen a gno before?" Her tone is deep and fully matured, a stark contrast to her childlike stature.
Vanessa's cheeks flush with embarrassnt, and she quickly apologizes for her rudeness. "I'm sorry, I didn't an to stare. I've never even of gnos. Just the garden ones—"
Darkness clouds the woman's face.
"I an, I've never encountered a gno before."
I've never seen Vanessa so flustered.
The gno woman huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, now you have. And I'd appreciate it if you kept your dical musings to yourself."
I've heard of gnos, of course. Even my mother has one in her garden, saying sothing about it warding off bad energy. But they look nothing like the woman in front of us.
Selene, on the other hand, trots straight up to the woman, her nose twitching as she takes in her scent. The gno woman recoils, her face scrunching up in displeasure.
"Back up," she demands, her voice sharp and authoritative. Selene, startled by the gno's reaction, takes a few steps back, her ears flattening against her head.
The gno woman shudders, rubbing her arms as if trying to rid herself of Selene's presence. "Wolves," she mutters under her breath, shaking her head in disapproval.
Sister Miriam clears her throat, drawing our attention back to her. "Layla, this is who we've been waiting for Ava Grey of the Blackwood Pack."
I open my mouth to protest, but close it at Sister Miriam's sharp look.
Layla's nose scrunches in disgust. "Renard's little runaway bride?"
"Precisely."
Layla's gaze sweeps over us, her eyes narrowing as she takes in our motley crew. With a heavy sigh, she turns to Sister Miriam. "There's no other choice then, is there?"
I can feel the tension radiating off Vanessa and Marcus as they subtly shift to block from view, their bodies poised to protect at a mont's notice. But Sister Miriam seems unperturbed, her expression serene as she ets Layla's gaze.
"The Fae will have a lot to say about this," Layla grumbles, her tone laced with annoyance.
Sister Miriam's lips curve into a knowing smile. "They're already aware, Layla. Trust , everything has been arranged."
Layla's eyes widen, surprise flickering across her face before she quickly schools her features into a mask of indifference. With a huff, she storms off down a hallway to our right, her tiny feet carrying her towards a set of imposing double doors.
"Follow ," Sister Miriam instructs, her voice calm and steady as she trails after Layla.
As we make our way down the corridor, Sister Miriam's voice echoes off the walls. "You are being granted access to the Fae Ward of Dakota Sanctuary. It is a place of safety, where none who wish you harm can enter."
Marcus frowns, his brow furrowing in confusion. "How is it supposed to keep us safe?"
Sister Miriam smiles faintly. "None of your enemies would ever be allowed entry into such a sacred space, Marcus. The Fae are ancient and powerful, and their wards are not to be trifled with."
As we approach the double doors, Layla holds up a hand, bringing us to a halt. She turns to , her expression softening slightly. "I must inform you, Ava, that vampires are not permitted within the Fae Ward. Not even ones as... unique as Sister Miriam."
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