Shenaya’s POV
The morning chill had soaked the air surrounding our house when I woke up and decided to look out the window gazing at the stretch of greenery in the distance. It’s been a few weeks since I got back from the perverted cave where Andrew trapped me and Zoey and the saddest part of this is the fact that we are still yet to find them. Aunt Belle once mentioned that the reason we couldn’t find them was probably because they were cloaked. Since the time I came back, I had been having the same dream over and over again about Zoey. Even now her eyes, those wide, scared eyes, were in front of me. The dream was about Zoey walking alone in the dark and trying to run away, saw the circle of glazed eyes, witches calling her name, and terrible screams that clearly resonated in the depths of my spirit.
I clutched the cold wooden frame of the window more tightly. There was a vague smell of pine and soil through the air, but it meant nothing to the knot inside me. I had never been as clueless as to what to do. Zoey wasn’t just Andrew and Skylar’s daughter, she was my daughter too. I had raised her and I had seen her change from the shrinking violet who was almost a mute, to a lioness who had faced Andrew in a witch fight. But now, she was slipping away and I feel like it was all my fault. I didn’t protect her. I let this happen.
I moved my back towards the window and walked over to an old wooden desk in the large healing room. Aunt Belle had left a book there, something which she said would assist me in making some sense of all of everything going on. The title, larger than the rest of the text, read: “The History of Supernatural Covens.” I had not for a moment agreed to read the book because anticipation was scary especially when it came to witches and curses from ancient days. Yet if I had to do this to save Zoey it was about time that I came face to face with my fears.
I sat down at the desk and then opened the book to find the thick and yellowish of color the page. I scanned through the text until a familiar word caught my eye: **Paris**. My heart thudded in my chest. Paris. It was the city where I found my biological parent, The city that changed my life until this very moment. My fingers shook as I ran them over the words again, the story of a coven of witches that used to plague all supernatural beings there, from werewolves to vampires and hybrids. These had been strong, holding power as if they were the only ones allowed to rule the world, they terrorized other supernatural beings until they were stopped and burnt out.
>*It was long in the land of the Rock Reel witches in Paris, where a group of witches wanted to enslave supernaturals.
Their powers were limitless, strengthened by ancient dark rituals until an alliance of werewolves, vampires, and other creatures trapped them in a cursed house. Their souls were burned, but legend says their spirits still roam, seeking vessels to regain their strength…”*
I froze, my heart raced. Could it be? Could Zoey have somehow stumbled upon that house and become a vessel for those witches? My stomach twisted with fear and guilt. Zoey lived in Paris all her life and especially we are the Rock Reel pack so the cursed house is probably in our pack. Panic shot through me, but I could not stay on it for more than a few minutes, as Aunt Belle came in through the door. Her gray hair was tied in a simple bun, while her eyes had dimness of gentleness, yet in them was a reservoir of a whole lot of experience of centuries. She moved to where I was and without a word, grabbed my shoulder, the contact soothing me.
“You have a worried look on your face, Shenaya,” she whispered and sat on the chair opposite me.
I sighed and placed the book on the table, I reclined in the chair.
“It’s Zoey. What is happening, has something happened to her, I can’t stop thinking, day and night.
I keep dreaming about these witches-about Paris. And I think-I think it’s connected to her.”
Aunt Belle’s eyes softened, but her expression remained unreadable.
“There are many things you don’t know about your past, Shenaya. And some things are better left buried.”
I shook my head, frustration bubbling inside me.
“No, Aunt Belle. I can’t let this go. I could feel that Zoey’s soul was being torn apart, and I think there might be a reason behind this. Please… you’ve lived longer than anyone I know. You must have heard something about the witches of Paris.”
She sighed, leaning forward, her hands clasped together.
“I’ve heard more than just something. I lived through it.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I stared at her with my breath caught in my throat.
“You-what? You were there? During the witch wars?”
Aunt Belle nodded slowly with a distant gaze as if recalling memories she had long tried to forget.
“I was just a child then, but yes, I was there. The witches in Paris were powerful, too powerful. Their magic was dark and ancient, and they believed themselves invincible. They enslaved anyone who wasn’t like them, the wolves, vampires, and even other witches who didn’t agree with their ways.” She paused and lowered her voice to a whisper, “When the alliance of supernatural creatures rose up against them, they didn’t go down without a fight. They cursed us all, promising that one day they would return through bloodlines, through vessels. And those souls that were consumed by their magic… they weren’t destroyed. They were bound.”
My throat tightened.
“Bound? To what?”
“To the house they were burned in,” she said. “Their souls were trapped there, waiting for someone that carries one of the witch’s bloodlines to open the door.”
A chill ran down my spine.
“Zoey… she was connected to one of those witches? She-she must have found that house.”
Aunt Belle’s gaze was grave.
“If Zoey is a bloodline of one of the witches, and she entered that house, then she became the vessel. The witches’ souls have latched onto her, and they will not stop until they fully take over.”
I clenched my fists, panic rising within me.
“There has to be a way to stop this. We can’t lose her.”
Aunt Belle hesitated before speaking again.
“There might be a way, but it’s dangerous, Shenaya. Very dangerous.”
Then, for what seemed like hours she just stared at me. I couldn’t read her eyes at all. Then she rose up and crossed the floor to a bookcase, which was placed on the opposite side of the room. She picked out a massive book in black leather color and gave it to me.
“It’s a book of ancient rites, some of which had been written thousands of years ago and were considered prohibited for many years. There is one in here that might help, but it will require a great sacrifice. You’ll have to cross into the spirit realm, confront the witches, and bring Zoey back yourself.”
I swallowed hard, my mouth dry.
“What kind of sacrifice?”
Aunt Belle met my gaze, her eyes filled with sorrow.
“Your soul.”
The words hit me like a ton of bricks. My soul. I would have to risk everything to save Zoey, but what choice did I have? I couldn’t let her be consumed by those witches. I couldn’t let Andrew win.
I took the book from Aunt Belle and stood up, determination settling in my chest.
“Tell me what I need to do.”
That very night I was standing in the midst of the trees outside the pack house. The full moon was hanging above us casting its glow across the trees. I was all tensed watching every movement making my heart pound with the sounds of leaves. Aunt Belle was in front of me while she used a piece of chalk to draw only a large circle on the floor.
“This circle will shield your body whenever you are in the spirit realm”, she said softly. “When you switch to the other side, you will look for Zoey’s soul and deliver her before the witches fully overpower her.”
That is all I could retort, I nodded in agreement as anxiety threatened to grip my stomach.
“How will I know where she is?”
Aunt Belle paused, glancing at me with a sad smile.
“You’ll feel her, Shenaya. You and Zoey have a bond. Trust that bond, and it will guide you.”
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. I had faced many things in my life, rejection, betrayal, even loss, but nothing like this. This was a battle for Zoey’s very soul, and I had no idea what to expect.
“Are you ready?” Aunt Belle asked, stepping back from the circle.
“I’m ready.” I nodded and towards the center of the ring.
She started saying something in a language I had never heard before, but the song-like tempo of her voice was eerily engaging. There was a spontaneous change of air around me as if it turned cold, almost oppressively dense. I could feel my blood rush through my veins and my eyes were firmly shut, I decided to focus all of my thoughts on Zoey, the connection we have, and the affection I felt for her. I would not leave her for Andrew or Skylar and definitely not the witches. I wouldn’t let her be lost.
In an instant, the environment faded away. Instead of staring at trees, I was not standing in the forest anymore, but instead, I awaked on an enormous plain, surrounded by darkness, and filled with the smell of burnt and scorched metals. I could barely make out some whispering in the distance, and the whispers became louder with every passing second.
I walked a few steps and my heart started beating so fast. The floor under my feet was freezing as if it was made of stone, The witch’s aura suffocated me. Yes, I could feel them because the dark powers surged around me like a tempest.
Then I saw her, Zoey. She was far away from me, her back to me and in the midst of which was a swirl of black, ominous smoke. The voices of the witches fanned their evil chants of her name, coaxing, commanding her to surrender.
“Zoey!” I shouted out my words which reverberated throughout the area.
She didn’t respond. She just stood there, unable to move, her body shivering as the witches’ cast that was trying to possess her.
I immediately dashed towards her with my breath raving inside my chest.
“Zoey! It’s me! Mama!”
At last, however, she wheeled around with a scared expression.
“Mama… I can’t… It’s getting difficult to keep them out of my mind.”
My eyes grew wet as I got closer to her, and embracing both of her hands with my own.
“You’re not alone, Zo. I’m here. We’re going to get through this together.”
“Let go, Zoey. Give in.” The witches’ voices keep growing louder as they keep on demanding.
I moved my grip from her wrists and encircled her with her hands to pull her closer.
“Don’t listen to them. Fight, Zoey. You have to fight.”
She just shook her head burying her face in her hands and cried.
“I’m so tired, mama. I don’t know if I can. I just want to go home”
“Yes”, I insisted, trying to sound as confident as I could. “You are greater than them, Zoey. You’re stronger than this and if you can fight this, we are going home. I’m here to take you home with me”
She had faith in me and her eyes were full of the light, she nodded and held my hands exceedingly tight.
“I’ll fight.” With those words, her hands joined in front of her trembling voice.