Bewitching Waters

Chapter 11: The Cursed Farm

Chapter 11: The Cursed Farm

The moonlight glinted off something shiny in the grass, just before the boarder—his gaze flicked to it, and he realized it was a broken piece of a horseshoe.

As he examined it, a soft sound caught his attention. He turned, eyes wide, as he thought he spotted a figure moving among the trees. It looked to him like it was a woman, cloaked in shadows, her long hair cascading down her back. Tommy felt a chill run down his spine. He knew instinctively she was one of them—the witches allied with the Hunter.

“Stay hidden, stay quiet,” he whispered to himself, as he pressed himself against a tree, heart pounding in his chest.

The woman moved closer, her presence almost ethereal. Seemingly made up of mostly shadow. She seemed to glide unnaturally through the underbrush, her eyes scanning the area as if searching for something. Tommy held his breath, willing himself to remain unnoticed.

Suddenly, the woman stopped floating in the air by the boarder, her eyes locking onto his hiding place. Tommy’s heart raced, and he felt the urge to bolt. But instead, he remained still, hoping the shadows would conceal him.

“Who is there? Bloodfang werewolves have awakened me,” the eerie but beautiful woman called out, her voice melodic yet commanding. “Show yourself!”

He had never seen a witch before and believe this to be one.

Tommy hesitated, but his instincts told him that revealing himself could be a mistake. “I’m not here to cause trouble,” he replied cautiously, hoping to defuse the situation.

The woman narrowed her eyes, stepping closer. “You’re one of the Bloodfang wolves? It is sensed. You have come here, to these sacred grounds with negative intent. The same intent as before.”

He swallowed hard. “I’m just observing. I want to know what the Hunter is planning for the wolves.”

Her expression softened slightly, though the tension remained but it still didnt seeme completely human. The women continued to float at the boarder, seemingly lifted by shadow. “Curiosity can be dangerous, young wolf. The Hunter is old and he is not your concern. The child is more powerful than any know. She must be protected. By blood oath of Heather Ravenwood, no Bloodfang member can bring harm to her and must protect her. Lest she dies before her time, you all perish...”

“What do you mean?” Tommy asked, curiosity getting the better of his fear. “What’s he trying to do? What bloodoath? I protect the Bloodfangs, not the Ravenwoods and certainly not that Hunter. I will follow my orders from Alpha Bryce.”

“The Hunter protects the child who will seek to awaken old and powerful magic,” she said cryptically, glancing around as if scanning the area for other wolves. “With the right allies, she may able to control the very forces that bind us all. You must be cautious, for her father will not hesitate to use anyone—including you.”

Tommy’s mind raced. “Why are you telling me this? You’re one of them!”

“I am not, yet I am. I am from the Ravenwood magic. I am as I am. I am what I am, and I do as I have been created and bound to do. There is no harmful intentions towards those who will have no ill intent towards this land or family,” she replied, her voice dropping to a whisper. It seemed to be mostly in his head than out loud, “I warn you because you are just a young wolf. You carry the weight of your lineage. A past of bitter feuds and bloodshed.

Remember this: the past has a way of catching up with us, and the choices you make will shape your future.”

Before he could respond, she turned, melting back into the shadows as silently as she had come. Tommy stood frozen, heart pounding, trying to process what he had just learned.

Suddenly, the soft rustling of leaves brought him back to reality. He needed to return to the pack, to warn them of the potential danger. With renewed determination, he turned and sprinted back through the trees, the weight of his legacy pressing down on him, but now filled with a sense of purpose.

As he reached the edge of the village, the soft glow of lanterns reflected on the lake, creating a serene yet haunting atmosphere. The sounds of laughter and conversation wafted through the air, a reminder of the life that thrived despite the looming threat. He could see the silhouettes of his pack members gathered on the shore, their voices mingling with the gentle sounds of the water.

Tommy heard one laugh among them all, and that was Jakes.

He was right. That farm is cursed. Tommy thought, I can't do this alone.

Tommy jolted awake, his heart pounding in his chest, the remnants of the dream still clinging to him like cobwebs. The familiar surroundings of his makeshift camp came into focus: the flickering light of the dying fire, the silhouettes of trees standing sentinel around him. He took a deep, shuddering breath, the cool night air flooding his lungs, grounding him in reality. The vividness of the dream lingered, its haunting echoes whispering in the back of his mind, and for a moment, he struggled to separate the dream from the waking world.

His eyes darted around, searching for any sign of the ethereal woman cloaked in shadows, any hint of the ominous presence that had seemed so real. But the only sound was the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze, the chirping of crickets serenading the night. Tommy’s pulse gradually slowed, but the weight of the dream remained heavy on his heart, thrumming with an urgency that refused to dissipate. He rubbed his eyes, the images of the broken horseshoe and the mysterious warnings still vivid as he fought to shake off the remnants of sleep.

As the realization sank in that it had all been a dream—albeit a terrifyingly vivid one—he felt a mixture of relief and disappointment. The warnings of the witch echoed in his mind, a chilling reminder of the stakes at play. Even though the encounter had been a figment of his imagination, the truths buried within it felt all too real. He pushed himself to sit up, determination flooding through him. He needed to relay the dream to Alpha Bryce, to share the sense of impending danger that clung to him like a shadow. As his senses sharpened and the adrenaline coursed through him, he understood that whether dream or reality, the threats against his pack were all too tangible—and he could not afford to ignore the warnings, no matter their source.