Seriously, There Are Werewolves?

Chapter 2

I don't do tea. Especially pored from a frog shaped teapot

I sat anyway.

Maybe it was the way Moira was looking at me, all calm and unreadable.. Like she knew exactly what I was thinking and was politely letting me pretend I had secrets. Or maybe it was the cat purring like crazy in her lap was making the room feel less like a horror movie and more like a woodland Airbnb.

Either way my legs moved before my brain caught up and next thing you know I was perched on the edge of the second armchair like it might bite me if I get too comfortable. I shuffled and it creaked... Of course it did...

Moira passed me a mismatched teacup. The tea was a strange amber colour and smells like cinnamon, honey and a very subtle earthy flavor I couldn't point out. Not cinnamon like Mum's baking but wilder. I stared at it. "if I die I hope you don't recycle me and put me into those creepy jars"

She didn't even blink "drink"

I did because apparently I have entered the 'sipping suspicious tea with a stranger in the woods' phase of grief. The flavor was surprisingly good. Warm. Comforting.

"So.. let me get this straight" I said, leaning back into the chair, which groaned again under my skepticism. "You live in a cabin, making potions, talk like a witch from a BBC drama, and casually mention creatures not from my world. Are you messing with me, or is this some weird grief-induced fever dream?"

Moira scratched the cat behind its ears. “You always talked a lot, even as a toddler.”

“Yeah, well, trauma does that. So does being driven into a forest with no cell service.”

Her gaze met mine. “You want the truth?”

“No, I flew across the world for your hospitality and cryptic one-liners.”

That earned me the faintest smirk. She set the cat down, and it padded silently across the room like it owned the place. Which, judging by its size, it probably did.

Moira stood. “Come with me.”

I hesitated. “Where?”

She arched a brow. “It will be easier just to show you?”

I groaned. “You know what? Sure. why not?”

I followed her.

Outside, the sky had faded to charcoal.

We walked in silence, her lantern casting soft yellow circles on the ground. I clutched my jacket tighter around me, not because it was cold, but because i was uncomfortable.

After a while, Moira stopped beside a creek that cut through the woods.

“There,” she said, pointing to the other side of the river.

At first, I saw nothing. Just the moon’s reflection off the water casting a slight glow to the tree line.

Then something moved.

Eyes. Glowing amber, low to the ground. A shape, bigg hulky and fury emerged from the trees.

I didn’t breathe.

It wasn’t a wolf. Not really. Too large. Too human in the way it tilted its head, watching us. Assessing.

“What the hell,” I whispered.

“That,” Moira said calmly, “is what I heal.”

The creature growled low, a sound that rumbled through the trees and into my spine. Then it disappeared, melting into the forest.

I staggered back. “What what was that?”

“A warning,” Moira repeated. “And a welcome.”

“Welcome?! That thing looked like it wanted to eat me!”

She turned to me, eyes gleaming in the lantern light. “It didn’t.”

Great. So I’m on the good list. For now.

Back in the cottage, I paced while Moira lit more candles like this was a totally normal Tuesday evening.

“This place is insane,” I muttered. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” she said. “But you’re here now and you can't leave.”

Something in her voice made me freeze.

“I’m can't...?”

She set the lantern down and looked at me with an expression I couldn’t read.. sad, maybe. Or tired. “Harper, your parents kept a lot from you. But they weren’t wrong too. The world I live in... the world you’re now a part of... it’s dangerous. It’s hidden. And it’s very, very real.”

I stared at her.

“You’re scared,” she said.

“No s**t,” I snapped. “There’s a werewolf or whatever the hell that was creeping around in the woods, and you’re just brewing tea like it’s Tuesday.”

Moira tilted her head. “It is Tuesday.”

I groaned. “This is insane.”

She waited. Patient. Letting the storm pass.

Then, finally, she said, “Harper, that wolf wasn’t going to hurt you. That was a show. A message.”

“Yeah. Message received: Run for your life.”

“No,” she said gently. “You’re being watched. Protected.”

Her gaze held mine. “That was a warning to anything else out there.”

I blinked. “Protected? By who? Bigfoot?”

Moira’s lips twitched, but didn’t smile. “By the pack.”

I frowned. “Like… a literal pack?”

My blood went cold. “So they’re werewolves?”

“Yes,” she said. “But they’re more than that. Not cursed. Not bitten. Born.”

I sank into the armchair, the tea still warm in my hands, but my fingers had gone cold.

“That thing in the woods,” I said. “It was human once?”

“It is human,” Moira corrected gently. “Just not only human.”

“But… how? Why?” My brain was trying to line things up. “Why would they live out here, hiding in the forest like cryptids?”

“They don’t hide, Harper. They live as they are. Away from human eyes, yes, but not because they’re ashamed. Because history taught them to be careful. Shifters used to be hunted. Trapped. Burned. Some still are, in places.”

A knot twisted in my chest. “So… what, they just gave up the rest of the world?”

“They carved out their own instead. A life where they answer to no one but their instincts, their laws. The pack.” Moira’s voice had a reverence to it now. “They’re proud. Fierce. Loyal. And slow to trust outsiders.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Then how do you fit in?”

She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “They accept me because of my bloodline. My mother was a healer. So was hers. We’ve lived beside the pack for generations, long before your mother was born. They don’t let just anyone walk among them.. but a healer? A witch who asks for nothing in return and keeps their secrets? That’s different.”

I sat with that for a beat, watching the candlelight flicker across the stone walls.

“And my mother?” I asked, voice low. “She never said a word.”

“She couldn’t,” Moira said. “Your father… he didn’t know. She left this life to protect you both. Chose distance instead of danger.”

“Nice to know honesty runs in the family.”

Moira’s expression softened. “She was trying to give you a normal life, Harper. She thought it would be safer that way.”

“Well, clearly that plan worked out great.”

The words came out sharper than I intended, but Moira didn’t flinch. She just walked back over, took the empty cup from my hands, and placed it on the table beside her frog-shaped teapot.

“You’re here now,” she said. “And whether you believe me or not, this world.. the forest, the pack, it knows you. You carry your mother’s magic. You’ve always had it. The moment you stepped into these woods, they felt it.”

“Felt it,” I echoed, numbly.

“They’re watching you. Not just because you’re new. But because you belong to something older than you know.”

Outside, a low howl echoed through the trees. Not close, but not far either. My skin prickled.

“So what now?” I asked. “Do I sprout fur and join the family business?”

She smiled. “No. You’re not a shifter. But you are your mother’s daughter. And there’s magic in you, whether you want it or not.”

I leaned back, closing my eyes for a second. My body felt heavy — like the truth had weight, and it had finally landed.

“So I’m not crazy,” I muttered.

“Not even a little,” Moira said. “You’re just finally waking up.”

I stared into the fire crackling low in the hearth. “You said they live out here. In the woods. But how? Like… just running around barefoot under the moon?”

Moira actually laughed at that, the sound was short and surprised.

“They’re not animals, Harper. They have homes. Jobs. Families. Their own laws. A town, even. Hidden, but real. You’ll see.”

I blinked. “Wait, they built a TOWN out here? With what, moss and good intentions?”

She shot me a look. “Electricity. Running water. Wi-Fi.”

I stared at her.

“They like their privacy, not the Dark Ages.”

“Oh.”

“You’ll meet them soon enough,” she said, standing again. "The Alpha has already asked to see you. I told him tomorrow.”

My stomach flipped. “The Alpha? Like, the head werewolf?”

“Yes,” Moira said simply. “He’ll want to know who you are. What you are.”

“Do I get a say in this?”

“You’re already part of it,” she said. “Whether you like it or not.”

I exhaled through my nose, hard. “This is a lot.”

“I know.” Her voice softened. “But you’re not alone.”

She crossed the room, opened a door off the main hall, and gestured inside. “This is your room now. Get some rest.”

I hovered for a second, then stepped through.

The room smelled like old books. The bed was big and soft, the kind that swallows you whole. A quilt rested on top, patchworked in greens and browns, stitched by hand. Probably by Moira.

I dropped my bag on the floor.

“Tomorrow,” she said behind me, “you’ll see the town. You’ll meet the Alpha. But tonight, sleep.”

I turned to look at her. “And if I dream of glowing eyes and teeth?”

She gave me a tired, amused smile. “Then you’re paying attention.”

The door clicked shut behind her.

And just like that, I was alone. In a strange house. In a stranger forest. With secrets crawling through the trees and wolves watching from the dark.

I stared at the ceiling.

Right.

Totally normal Tuesday.