Violet
Even the warm water couldn’t prevent my body from the cold that reached through my veins.
No…
It couldn’t be true.
Adelaide, Alaric—there were nothing but names. Nobodies. They weren’t my parents because mine had already passed away. Claire and Greg from the Bloodrose pack. I was Violet Hastings, a werewolf, meant to be a healer. I wasn’t—
My thoughts faded as tears reached the corner of my eyes.
No matter how much I wanted to deny it, everything started to make sense. The isolated upbringing, the consistent issue with my eyes, the whispers growing up, the prophecies…the connection to Adelaide, and even the way the Soothsayer had addressed me.
Was I really half witch?
Was Adelaide really my mom, and how was he even certain?
“Kylan?” I whispered, my voice trembling. A second
