Chapter 10

Aritzea’s POV

I stormed through the hallway, my brother's words still stinging in my ears.

He could handle it? I didn't have to do anything?

He didn't trust me. He didn't think I could handle it despite everything. I was a powerful werewolf, not just his baby sister, but his protective stance annoyed me greatly. It was almost like he was implying that I was incapable.

Damn!

My fist shot out at the nearest thing—a wall, slamming against it. I sighed in frustration, almost shifting into my wolf form on impulse.

No. I couldn't just sit here and do nothing while this was going on. If Thorne wasn't going to let me in on the problem, there was someone else I could go to.

Elma.

If anyone could help me, it was her.

My initial urge to shift into my wolf form and sprint through the trees was replaced by a more practical plan. I paused, clenched her fists, and stomped back upstairs to grab the keys to my motorcycle. For now, I couldn't just wolf out whenever I like. Sometimes, being human made things easier. Especially now.

Mounting my bike, I took off. The wind howled in my ears, engine rumbling as I tore down the path out of the estate.

Elma didn't live closeby like most of the other werewolves. Her place was far enough away that most wouldn't even think of visiting her without a purpose. It was tucked deep into the woods, hidden far away and surrounded by ancient trees that seem to have existed since forever.

No one could find Elma if she didn't let them—and that was exactly how Elma liked it. However, I was an exception to the rule since Elma took me almost as a daughter.

As the road grew rougher and more tangled, I rode her bike carefully, eventually pulling up to Elma's solitary cabin settled amidst towering trees and under a canopy of stars. The house was simple but old, built from worn wood that blended perfectly with the natural world surrounding it. There was a certain magic to the place—a timelessness that made my racing thoughts slow just by being there.

I dismounted the bike, my boots crunching against leaves as I approached.

"Elma..." I called pushing open the door.

Inside, she found Elma seated cross-legged on the floor, her eyes closed, the lines of her weathered face serene. She was meditating.

Candles flickered around the room, their gentle light illuminating the herbs, talismans, and artifacts that cluttered the space. This was a familiar sight, Elma was always in a state of meditation, even when she was fully awake.

Without looking up, Elma spoke in her usual calm tone, "Come in, child."

I stepped inside and crossed the room to sit opposite the healer, exhaling sharply as I crossed my arms. Usually my emotions would be blown cold by the wind after such a long ride, but this time was different. My anger was only getting hotter.

"You’re upset," Elma observed, still not opening her eyes. She was like a still lake that could sense the ripples of emotion in the air. "Tell me what troubles you, child."

Child.

Although I knew this was a form of endearment, at this moment, the word didn't exactly make me feel better. I stared at me for a moment before the words came tumbling out.

"It's my brother. They’re all hiding things from me—important things. The hunter situation... Everyone's talking about it behind closed doors, and no one tells me anything. They think I'm not supposed to know about it. And you—" I placed an accusing gaze on Elma, "—there's no way you didn't know. Why didn’t you tell me?"

Elma opened her eyes now, locking me in a calm, almost sympathetic gaze. "Yes, I knew."

"And you said nothing?" My voice cracked, the frustration bubbling over. "Elma, I'm almost 70. In human years I'd be an elder. You don't have to treat me like I can't do anything."

"Ari—" Elma sighed deeply, her voice soft but filled with the weight of understanding. "You are talented—more than talented. You are the best of your generation. We all know this. But it is because of your strength that they fear for you. They don’t want to lose what they treasure. Your brother most of all."

"I don’t need protecting. I can handle myself."

"I know that, and so do they. But love makes people foolish. It makes them believe that by shielding you, they can keep you safe from the dangers of the world." Elma smiled slightly, but it was a sad smile.

I shook her head, the familiar anger flaring up. "I know how to take care of myself, Elma. I can handle this if you would all just let me."

"And that is why they will choose you when the time comes," Elma said softly. "When the moment arrives, they will call upon you because they know you are the only one who can handle what is to come."

I frowned. I wasn't comforted by the idea of sitting idly till whenever they saw fit to involve me. "Well, I won’t sit around and wait for them to decide when I’m ready."

Elma gave me a look of quiet pride before reaching out to hold my hands.

I looked straight at her, questions in my eyes.

"Your path, child, is not without difficulty. But I trust you. And I trust that you shall be careful and hold on tight to your identity as a daughter of the moon goddess."

I quietened, listening to the words of the older werewolf. There was something in the old shaman’s tone that made me pause. Elma wasn’t just speaking of physical danger—there was something else, something unspoken.

I grasped Elma's hand firmly. "I’ll be fine. I always am."

Elma nodded, but her gaze remained somber. "Take care of yourself, Aritzea. Do not let yourself be lost."

I left, the evening air cooling my heated thoughts, though my mind still buzzed with what I had heard. I wasn’t wrong to be angry—I deserved to know, deserved to fight—but Elma’s words echoed in my mind.

This wasn't the first time I was attempting something like this... but something told me that this time, things wouldn't be so simple.