Yvonne’s POV- Making a demand

The next day, my mind was consumed by thoughts of the previous night as I sat in class. We had taken a test early in the morning and endured a series of lectures afterward. Despite the mundane routine, I found solace in the presence of my two gorgeous friends after the long weekend. However, beneath my facade of normalcy, I couldn’t shake the nagging fear of what would happen if they ever discovered my lupine secret.

Unable to concentrate on the lectures, I fidgeted at my desk, tapping my pen softly against its surface. The memory of the raw animal flesh I had consumed flashed through my mind, causing my stomach to churn. “Did I really eat that?” I pondered, feeling the urge to vomit overwhelming me. Hastily, I rushed to the restroom, my insides heaving with each retch. As I wiped my mouth, gasping for breath, doubts flooded my mind. “Perhaps I was never meant to be a wolf,” I mused despairingly.

Interrupting my solitary moment, Susan, a witch, approached me with a knowing smirk. “What do we have here? Wolf girl….” she taunted, her voice dripping with amusement as she washed her hands.

Unfazed by her revelation, I retorted, “I’m not surprised that you know. You witches are something else,” my words laced with a hint of resentment.

Before our conversation could delve any deeper, the restroom door swung open, and a panicked girl rushed in. “We have a problem! We need to hide. Father Bosco is here,” she exclaimed, her voice trembling with fear.

Confusion and dread gripped us as Susan and I exchanged alarmed glances. “What? I don’t understand,” Susan uttered, her tone betraying her growing apprehension.

“The new girl who was supposed to enroll today… when Father Bosco presented the crucifix, she manifested. She’s a witch, just like us,” the girl explained frantically, her name revealed to be Helen.

Susan’s expression darkened with concern. “Which coven is she from?” she inquired urgently.

“I don’t know, but I sense she’s a white witch,” Helen responded, her voice trembling with fear.

Stunned into silence, I struggled to comprehend the gravity of the situation unfolding before us. “Where is she now?” Susan demanded, her panic palpable.

“Dragged away to be hanged like the rest,” Helen replied, her words hanging heavily in the air, casting a shadow over our already troubled hearts.

“You might need my help,” I asserted, meeting Susan’s gaze head-on.

Her expression skeptical, Susan turned to me. “How? This isn’t a fight of muscles and fists.”

A confident smile played on my lips. “If your elders knew how to stop Father Bosco, they would have done so long ago. Unfortunately, they don’t. But I’m certain that with my influence, my mother can help you. She’s a wolf witch.”

Helen’s eyes widened in recognition, and Susan’s disbelief morphed into curiosity. Helen stepped closer, her touch gentle as she grasped my hand. “You’re Catherine’s daughter?”

I nodded proudly, a sense of assurance bolstering my confidence.

Helen gasped, awe coloring her voice. “I’ve heard tales of her, the great war… She’s truly incredible.”

Susan nodded in agreement. “Yes, she is. We’ve attempted to reach out to her countless times for aid, but she never grants us an audience. She’s the oldest of all witches. How can you be so sure that she’ll help us this time?”

Arching my brow, I replied, “She’s my mother, and she’ll always honor my humble request.”

As Helen exchanged a knowing glance with Susan, I sensed their apprehension, but it was the least of my concerns. Having learned from my mother that every boon comes at a cost, I knew that if they truly sought assistance, they must be willing to meet my terms.

“But I need something from you in exchange for that,” I declared, lifting my gaze to meet their eyes.

“And what might that be?” Susan inquired, her determination palpable as she braced herself to face Father Bosco’s wrath.

A mischievous grin tugged at my lips as I observed Susan’s resolve, relishing the sight. “Definitely making progress, Yvonne,” I muttered under my breath, a sense of satisfaction washing over me.

“I need you to cast a spell for me—a spell so clandestine that neither my mother nor anyone else will ever discover its existence,” I revealed, a smirk dancing at the edge of my lips.

Susan chuckled, her amusement tinged with intrigue. “Hmm… interesting. Looks like someone’s about to engage in some mischief behind daddy and mummy’s backs,” she remarked, stepping closer to me.

I felt her probing my thoughts, a sensation I hadn’t experienced before. It dawned on me that assuming my wolf form exposed me to a world of danger and responsibilities, even though I had yet to fully embrace them.

“I know what you’re attempting, Susan. Don’t worry—it won’t work,” I reassured her, a soft laugh escaping my lips.

Frustration etched across Susan’s features as she acknowledged my resilience. “Mummy has indeed fortified her girl. Impressive, huh?” she remarked, lifting her gaze to meet mine.

Arms folded across my chest, I regarded her coolly. “Are you expecting me to answer that?” I countered, maintaining my composure.

Susan sighed, her anger evident. “What exactly do you want?” she demanded, her tone laced with frustration.

“That’s a very good question, Susan. What I want wouldn’t cost you much. You’ll find out once you’re ready to meet my mother. But you’ll have to fulfill my request first before I can grant you access to her,” I declared boldly, holding my ground.

I shrugged nonchalantly. “Besides, I don’t intend to do anything malicious. I prefer to do what’s right.”

Helen remained silent, averting her gaze.

“Let’s see who’s smarter now, Father,” I muttered, clenching my fists in determination. I was confident that the witches had no choice but to comply with my demands.

Walking past them, I turned around to face them. “It’s your choice to make: grant my request or continue to face Father Bosco’s wrath daily.”

My phone beeped, distracting me momentarily. I glanced at the screen. “I’ll leave you witches to decide,” I said, locking eyes with them before storming out of the restroom and heading back to the classroom. I was certain that the witches had no escape from Father Bosco, and my mother was their only hope—which also meant that I would inevitably get what I wanted.