The ceremony had ended, the echoes of drums and chants fading into the twilight.
Outside the cave, the surroundings slled of smoke and earth, of candles burnt low and prayers whispered into the cooling air.
I watched, strangely satiated by the whole celebration, as people moved in groups toward their hos, each carrying plastic bags of gifts—courtesy of the King.
Then I noticed my first foster mother watching . She was waiting for her husband—I believed, but while waiting, she was watching .
Diana squeezed my hand. Of course she had noticed. We waved at the sa ti, small smiles on our lips.
She was startled at our recognizing her presence—she even looked behind her, to know if she was the one we’re actually greeting—but she waved at us in return, a contemplative smile on her lips.
"Do you want to go to her?" A whisper veiled in magic.
"I think so."
We stepped forward, my eyes staying on her figure seated by the carved stone fountain—a woman, hair streaked with silver, face lined with age and worry.
She was looking older than she was. Was she still mourning ?
There was sothing that said she was shocked, in the tilt of her head, the curve of her jaw, as she watched us approach.
Her brows furrowed as we ca to stand before her, like she could see through us, see within us.
My pulse jumped, even though I knew that she didn’t recognize —there was no way that was possible—not yet.
"Hello," I said cautiously. "I... I hope I’m not intruding."
She looked at , mild surprise yet cloaking her features, her eyes scanning my face, as if trying to place in so forgotten mory. "No intrusion," she said softly. "You’re... the witch, aren’t you?"
"I suppose you could say that," I replied, stepping closer. "I’ve seen you around... are you okay?"
I blanched at the directness of my question, then hurried to redy it, but she tapped my arm gently, and gestured to the space beside her.
I swallowed as Diana and I took sitting positions on the rock.
"You look quite different from the girl at the peace party...but you’re still as brave as I rembered..." She chuckled, breaking the silence of a few minutes, sparing a glance.
"But I guess I look the sa. Dora, right?"
I nodded fast.
She laughed. It pleased , even though my clumsiness wasn’t what I wanted people to see.
Diana remained silent, knowing the situation. One off remark, and my mother would be bawling her eyes out, and hugging to herself.
"Grief." She said, "Grief changes people a lot."
"Is it about Maya? She hasn’t been found yet?"
The woman stiffened, then she smiled sadly. "You rembered..." Her eyes glistened, and she clasped her hands together.
"Maya," she murmured, almost to herself. "Yes... she disappeared almost a year ago. No trace, no word. I... I’ve thought about her every day." Her voice cracked slightly, and she let out a shuddering breath.
"I can see why you’re concerned," I said gently. "But you shouldn’t lose hope."
She nodded slowly, studying my face as if trying to read the echoes of her lost daughter. "You remind of her, you know... There’s sothing in your colorful eyes. Sothing familiar... the way you hold yourself, the way you move... I can’t explain it, but I feel her presence in you."
A lump rose in my throat. I wished, more than anything, that I could tell her the truth. Tell her that I am her daughter, though not as she rembers .
That I’ve lived, survived, and changed beyond recognition. But I knew it wasn’t the right ti. Not yet.
"I... I hope she’s safe," I said softly. "Sowhere. I hope you will see her again one day."
The woman smiled faintly, a mixture of sorrow and hope. "Thank you. That’s all a mother can hope for." She reached out and brushed a strand of hair from my face. Her touch lingered, gentle and warm, as if she could sense the bond we shared but couldn’t na it.
I nodded and stood up, letting her gaze linger on a mont longer before I turned. "Goodbye, Mrs. Shalom."
"Goodbye Dora."
Adam was waiting a few steps away, his dark eyes observing with his usual calm intensity. "Shall we go?" he asked softly. I nodded and followed, leaving the caves behind.
—
The walk back to the royal residence was quiet, the sky deepening into shades of indigo and purple. The lanterns lining the paths flickered, casting long shadows across the stone.
I felt Claire’s gaze on as we walked. I could feel it, sharp and hot, like coals pressing against my back.
Her stink eye was almost tangible, and I ignored it deliberately. Adam had chosen to walk with , and I wasn’t about to give in to Claire’s silent fury.
I wished though, that it was just the three of us as it had been today. However, Claire and her family had joined the royal family to make the return to the main pack environnt.
The palace gates opened, and without wasting ti, we were ushered into the dining hall. By this ti, just the royal family was the company.
The long table glead under the soft glow of candles, silverware set ticulously. The murmur of polite conversation rose and fell, punctuated by laughter here and there, though I noticed it was contained and careful.
As usual, I sat with Diana. But this ti took the seat next to , his presence quiet but loud at the sa ti.
Halfway through the al, Adam leaned slightly toward , his voice low and soft. "Would you like to see the stables after this? Ride a horse, maybe?"
My eyes lit up, traitorously. "Now?" I whispered. "Is that allowed?"
He smirked faintly. "The palace is quiet at night. Everyone would be asleep. I’ll be waiting at our eting point."
eting point? But I already knew what he was talking about.
——
"Maya, where are you going?"
Diana.
I bit my lower lip. She should be asleep.
"Just outside." I said, moving to her side of the bed. She was sleepy alright, but she was already attuned to my energy.
"I won’t be long." I added, sensing her hesitation, her need to join , to keep safe. "I just need so fresh air before going to sleep."
"Okay. Be back quick." And then she shut her eyes.
I waited until she was asleep, and then I slipped quietly from the room, down the hallways, careful to avoid making any noise.
Adam was waiting already.
—
The night was still, the moon casting silver streaks across the cobblestones. The stables were silent, save for the occasional snort or shuffle of hooves.
Adam led to two fine black horses, their coats glossy, muscles rippling beneath the moonlight. Their eyes were alert, intelligent, reflecting the torchlight like twin stars. I reached out a hand to one, and it nuzzled , breath warm and scented with hay.
"Can you ride?" Adam asked.
Without speaking a word, I mounted the horse, a smirk on my lips, feeling the familiar thrill of connection, the subtle sway beneath as the horse shifted its weight.
"What do you think?"
Adam laughed, and mounted his.
The night was alive with adventure as we set out on our horses, the moon casting a silvery glow over the rolling hills. The air was crisp, filled with the scent of pine and earth—sharp, intoxicating, and sohow thrilling.
As we rode deeper into the forest, the trees closed in around us, their leaves whispering secrets in the gentle night breeze, creating a soft rustling that seed to echo our heartbeat.
Our path wound through dense woodland, the soft pounding of hooves breaking the silence, sending tiny clouds of dust into the cool air. We crossed bubbling streams, their crystal-clear waters shimring beneath the moonlight.
I even pointed out a particularly pretty one, where the water reflected the stars, creating a tiny mirror of the night sky. We paused there for a mont, leaning over the banks and watching the ripples dance gently outward. It was magical. I loved it.
And then we continued, the forest thickening, shadows lengthening and deepening around us. Suddenly, we erged into a small clearing, where a slow-moving stream flowed lazily through the grass.
Its surface reflected the full moon like a silver mirror, casting a peaceful glow that seed to hold the whole world in a gentle embrace. We dismounted, leading our horses to the water’s edge.
The moonlight shimred on the surface, illuminating our faces and casting everything in a soft, silvery hue. We stayed there for a while, soaking in the tranquility, feeling as if the world had slowed down just for us.
"Do you like it?" Adam’s soft voice penetrated into my thoughts and stayed. We were sitting on a log of wood, staring hard at the stream.
"Yes, I do." I breathed. I didn’t know these streams were dotted here and there in the pack. But then, I knew nothing. I wasn’t allowed to know anything.
"Do you want to swim?"
That question sucked the air surrounding us.
My fingers itched, but I didn’t want to scratch, to show any indication that I had been startled. I didn’t look away from the stream too.
Swim? In this cold body of water? That was tantamount to sex!
"Maybe so other ti." I cleared my throat. "I think we should head back. I can feel my eyes getting drowsy."
If he suspected my words, he didn’t show it. He rather stretched his hand toward as a gentleman would... I obliged.
Monts later, we returned the horses to their stalls, the sll of hay and wood filling the air.
"Thanks for tonight." I said as we stepped out of the stall. I had really enjoyed myself.
But Adam turned and leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper, a mischievous glint in his eyes—one that made curious and nervous at the sa ti.
"Would you... like to ride on my wolf?"
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