Page 29 of Wolf Proclaimed

A shiver of anticipation coursed through me. The possibility they hinted at was staggering, yet it filled me with a strange sense of determination. Was it possible? Could we rule together as alphas of our own packs, bringing about the peace that had been elusive for so long?

"Mira," Syriah said, reaching across the table to grasp my hand. Her eyes held a glimmer of hope that harmonized with my own heart. "We've always had different paths, you more than any of us. But maybe, just maybe, those paths are finally converging."

I swallowed, my throat tight with emotion. Could I be part of this? Could I truly be their sister, an alpha, a leader?

As I looked into my sisters' eyes, I saw reflected in them not just the women they were now but the girls they'd been. A faint but growing connection flickered between us, tentative and precious. I clung to it, holding onto the hope that this path, however daunting, could lead us to peace.

"Let's hope," I whispered, "Let's hope that this time, our paths leads us home."

As I spoke, the room fell silent as if the universe recognized the moment's importance. I sensed we all shared the same anticipation, hope, and determination.

Chapter Fourteen

Rendezvous with the Past

Mira

The sound of crunching gravel, the faint rustle of movement. My instincts kicked in, pulling me away from my sisters and toward the source of the sound. I blinked, the familiar and unfamiliar faces before me a confusing jumble.

Gretel and Luna stood side by side in the doorway of our cavernous cottage. Gretel, I knew. She was the woman who haunted my dreams, the specter of a mother who had been lost and then found again. But the woman beside her, Luna, was an enigma, her face a familiar mystery despite the warmth in her eyes.

And behind them stood Bastian, his imposing figure a comforting presence amidst the confusion. Seeing him, I felt relief, my legs moving of their own accord. I rushed towards him, throwing myself into his arms. His stronghold was instantly familiar, and a quiet sigh escaped me.

But my eyes never left Luna. Who was she? Her gaze held mine, her expression filled with so much warmth and love it was nearly overwhelming. The sight of her stirred something within me, a feeling of familiarity and a vague longing.

Petra broke the silence, her voice cutting through the tension. "Mira," she began gently, "Luna is our mother too. She raised us all after...after everything. She kept you safe."

Kept me safe? The words stirred in my mind. I glanced at Gretel again. There was a similarity in their faces, in their eyes. But it was Luna whose face was stirring fragmented memories.

"She...she raised me?" My voice was a whisper, the realization slowly sinking in. Luna was the mother who cared for me, protected me, and loved me.

Gretel had been there, in and out of my life, a sporadic presence at best, bringing me to this cave occasionally. But Luna... I had a flicker of a memory of Luna, her soft voice lulling me to sleep, her gentle touch soothing me. She was always good to me.

"I..." I began, but my voice trailed off. The memories, the revelations, were overwhelming. But for the first time, I felt as though I was starting to make sense of the puzzle that was my past.

My eyes darted to the ancient, leather-bound book that Luna held. The gnarled pages looked fragile with age, but the intricate symbols and cryptic texts written on them pulsed with undeniable power. I felt an irresistible pull toward it, like a moth drawn to a flame. It was as if the book contained a part of me that had been lost, a part I was desperate to reclaim.

"Use it," I implored Gretel, my voice echoing around the cavernous space. My gaze flicked between the spell book and Gretel, a plea in my eyes.

Gretel looked at me, her face a mask of concern. "Mira," she began, her tone cautious, "you remember what happened the last time I used magic on you. You lost your memory and have ended up with me and your sisters today to gather more about your past. Do you want to risk that again?"

Her words were like a punch in the gut—a stark reminder of the catastrophe that magic had wrought on my life. But the flicker of hope, the possibility of becoming whole again, refused to be snuffed out.

"I know the risks," I said, my voice firm. "But if there's a chance to end this war, to bring us all together, we must take it."

The space was silent momentarily, the gravity of my words hanging in the air. Petra, ever the quiet observer, broke the silence. "Gretel is right, Mira. We need to consider this carefully. But we also need to be open to possibilities."

Gretel sighed, her gaze softening. "We'll keep our minds open," she agreed, though I could tell she was far from convinced.

Bastian stood in the corner of the room, his muscular frame taut with tension. He hadn't said a word throughout the exchange, his stone-cold expression revealing nothing. He finally broke his silence, his deep voice resonating in the cavern.

"I don't like it. It's risky. But it's not my decision to make. If this is what you all want..."

His voice trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished. But his meaning was clear. Despite his misgivings, he was willing to stand by us.

But something tugged at the back of my mind, an unvoiced question that had been simmering since Gretel and Luna's arrival. "Was our father married twice?" I blurted out, surprising even myself.

The room froze. Luna and Gretel exchanged a glance, a silent conversation that spoke volumes. They both looked taken aback, but it was Jezebel who finally responded. "No," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Our father, your father, he was Luna's mate. But he had an affair with Gretel, and you and Averi were born."

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