Page 65 of The Wolf Moon

I looked from Cate to her and back again. The Goddesses had never been actual entities in my own image of the world. They were formless ideas and invisible deities that haunted the sky to watch those below. The thought that they had been here, close to me, this entire time… it was hard to understand.

I turned to Cynthia hesitantly.

“So you escaped the fire…” My words faltered from my lips before I could finish.

“She’s a Goddess. Fire won’t hurt us,” Cate said with a laugh of amusement. I looked to Cate with wide eyes.

“And you could refuse Roman’s commands… everyone thinks you’re mute…” My mind was spinning.

“I can’t be commanded by anyone much less a pup. And I don’t speak to those who I haven’t deemed in my favor,” Cate answered me, at first a bit prideful but then her voice softened at my obviously bewildered reaction. “My Oracles, of course. I apologize for deceiving you.”

“I also do not speak to those I do not favor, but the Oracles are sometimes an exception,” Cynthia agreed, nodding slowly, “This is why I remained hidden in the temple. I do apologize for deceiving you, Mila.” They spoke to me carefully, as though there were much more beyond what they’d already told me, but they didn’t want to rush to divulge information all at once.

I stared at them in shock, trying again and again to find logic in how this could even be possible. They didn’t press further. Instead, they stood silent, waiting for me to gain control of my own thoughts. After the initial shock, a question echoed in my mind. It was one that had whispered behind every breath since I’d been selected for the Wolf Moon. And now that two of the Moon Goddesses stood before me, I could ask them.

“Why?” I asked abruptly before more questions spilled from me rapidly. “Why me? Why was I given the same ability Roman has? Why was I chosen to be Roman’s mate? Why am I the one who has to stop him?”

Cynthia and Cate didn’t respond immediately. They didn’t even look at each other to seek the proper answer. I was expecting something like I had been picked at random; some wild human who was fated to catch the eye of the King Alpha.

“Well,” Cate looked to Cynthia briefly as though checking if she wanted to answer before looking back to me. “Why can you turn your hands into claws?”

I hesitated, glancing at my hands as if they had answers.

“Because… I’m… I’m a wolf?” I answered uncertainly.

“Are you?” Cate replied with her own question, lifting her hand to her chin thoughtfully. “My lance is truthfully laced with silver, so why can you touch it without it hurting you?” My brows furrowed in further confusion.

“I’m…” I paused, looking at my hands again. When I’d traced my finger along the silver of the blade Roman gave me, it was only cold metal to the touch. The words I had thought as I’d touched it echoed in my mind. “I’m no wolf.”

“I’m no wolf,” Cate replied immediately.

“I’m no wolf,” Cynthia said as well, shaking her head firmly.

I stared at them openly, utterly confused. How did this explain anything?

“Ah,” Cate said abruptly, lifting her right hand palm forward towards me. Cynthia followed her lead, lifting her own hand up. Instead of holding her hand palm forward, she held it vertically before her, with the meat of the side of her hand from pinky to wrist showing. Just under her pinky was a mark, ever so small, of a solid circle with a hallowed center. I looked back to Cate’s hand to see her own mark under her pinky, a crescent the opposite direction of the one on my hand.

I looked from both of theirs to my hand slowly, looking at that birth mark that I’d had my entire life. It was identical to Cate’s, but when I looked again to confirm, I knew. It was just reversed. It was reversed.

I shook my head.

“You can’t be saying what I think you’re saying,” I said to them stubbornly, closing my hand into a fist.

“It depends what you think we’re saying,” Cate teased, crossing her arms once more before watching me curiously.

“That I’m… that I’m like the both of you,” I struggled to get the words out.

“You have many names,” Cynthia began, but I shook my head and interrupted her.

“I have only one. Mila. Milena,” I corrected her quickly, a panic beginning to rise within me. This was all madness. They were mad.

“Diana,” Cynthia continued despite my interruption, “Agrotora…”

“Just Mila. Sometimes Tala. Sometimes Queen Luna, but just Mila,” I argued almost desperately.

“Artemis, The Maiden,” Cynthia finished softly. “That is why.”

I shook my head firmly yet again. “I’m not… I’m not the Maiden.”

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