Asrai

Chapter 13: The Plot Thickens

I hadn’t planned to get involved. grateful to hide out in my room for the rest of my days. But something in his voice—low, urgent, almost afraid— was stirring something in me. I turned toward the staircase window, our forest stretching beyond it in quiet defiance. My river was still out there, winding through the trees like a silver thread. It has always been my refuge. My secret place.

But now, even that felt uncertain.

I pressed my palm to the glass, watching the light shift across the leaves. If the magic was unraveling, if people were disappearing… then maybe staying to myself wasn't an option anymore. A world without magic would be unbearable. How would the fairies fly? How would the wolves shift beneath the moon? The witches would lose their spells, their strength. And the vampires… Well, without magic to hold them back, we We might find ourselves at their mercy. Without magic, it wouldn’t even flow through the wolves’ blood anymore. The Monaco Line—so deeply tied to the old ways—would likely be the first to vanish. The fae beasts would be bled dry, their enchantments stripped away. And the witches… well, they’re clever. Always have been. They’ve got tricks tucked up their sleeves—and strong alliance with the vampires that no one talks about openly.

I continued down the stairs. The house wasn’t empty. Wolves lingered in the living room, lounged in the game room, and drifting through the halls. We thrived on connection, on shared space and conversation. Even those with homes of their own often found their way here, drawn by the warmth, the familiarity, and the quiet pulse of belonging.

The hushed, surprised whispers began the moment I stepped into view. I didn’t acknowledge them—just kept walking, steady and silent, until I reached the kitchen. There, as always, was Cook.. She was an older woman with soft gray hair, likely around Gran’s age, and carried the same warmth in her spirit. She always had a kind word for me—gentle, genuine. Over the years, I’d often been her helper during family gatherings, staying behind to clean up long after the guests had gone. There was comfort in her presence—like the scent of fresh bread rising in the oven or the hush that settles over the house just before dawn. Her quarters were tucked on the first floor, which meant she was always nearby, ready to help the family or any pack members here at the time .

“Hi, Ms. Cook,” I said as I stepped into the kitchen.

She turned, eyes lighting up. “Ah, my sweet—you’re home,” she said with heartfelt conviction. “We’ve all missed you, you know.” She came and wrapped her arms and sounded me in a light but firm hug.

I smiled, unsure how to take it. “Oh, Ms. Cook, you’re teasing me.”

“No, no,” she insisted, her voice warm and full of affection. “You’ve grown into such a beautiful young woman, darling. Truly.”

Ms. Cook wiped her hands on a linen towel and turned to face me fully, her eyes soft but searching.

“It’s good to see you, child,” she said, voice low and steady. “Feels like the house’s been holding its breath since you left.”

I leaned against the counter, the familiar scent of herbs and simmering broth wrapping around me like a blanket. “Has it really changed that much?”

She nodded slowly. “More than you’d think. The Alpha has been restless—busier than ever, but not herself. The halls feel colder, even with all the wolves coming and going. And Vince…” She paused, choosing her words. “He’s grown into his role, but he carries it heavy. Like he’s waiting for something to break.”

I glanced toward the window, where the forest moved by the wind. “The magic’s shifting.”

Ms. Cook’s expression darkened. “It’s more than that. The wards flicker. “The Looking Pool hums at odd hours now,” Ms. Cook said, her voice low. “And the house… well, it may look beautiful with all the upgrades, but it feels different. Like we are all waiting for something to happen.”

That caught my attention. I glanced around, taking in the gleaming double-wide sink, the oversized oven, the stainless steel fridge that practically sparkled.

“Oh yes,” she added with a wave of her hand, “none of this was your Gran’s idea. All Alexandria’s doing—trying to keep up with appearances, I suppose.”

I raised an eyebrow. “It’s a lot.”

“A lot has changed, River,” she said, her voice softening. “Your mom and aunt started an online business—doing quite well, actually. And they are not the only ones. Several tribes have been touched by the outside world. They’ve launched businesses, brought in profits, even hired outside help.”

I let out a faint gasp.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” she continued with a knowing smile. “Your little stunt to get into school caught the High Council’s attention. Made waves through the upper ranks. They started poking around, looking for ways to modernize, to help the town. Though, you know how they are—takes them ages to agree on what’s actually profitable.”

I nodded slowly, then frowned. “Then why does Huntings Lane look worse?”

She sighed. “Ah, well… the witches control the veil. And with them, everything’s a trade. You want something? You have to give something. No offering, no favor. Nothing to give—nothing you’ll get.” They won’t offer help for bewitching the outside workers, so their plans for a much needed upgrade haven't been approved.

But anyway ,She leaned in slightly. “Rumor is, they’ve added enchantments to the veil. When the workers come in, everything looks normal. They forget they were ever here when they leave.”

I frowned. “Forget?”

Ms. Cook nodded slowly. “Yes, once they cross the veil, they forget all about Enchantsville. It’s part of the enchantment. But a few…” She paused, her eyes narrowing. “A few have wandered. Maybe someone tipped them off. Into the woods”

We call them the wanderers.She rolled her eyes, a hint of frustration in her voice. “They got more than they bargained for.”

Her words lingered in the air, thick with meaning.

“I don’t even know why I’m here,” I said, letting a sliver of my guarded thoughts slip through. “I was perfectly fine in Seattle.” My voice dropped. “Safer, too.”

Ms. Cook gave me a small, sorrowful smile. “Oh, Asrai… I know growing up here wasn’t easy. I can’t imagine what you went through. I’ve seen injustices with my own eyes—and heard whispers of worse.” She reached for my hand, warm and steady. “But in times like these, when everything feels uncertain, being with family matters more than ever.”

The kettle whistled, sharp and sudden. Ms. Cook moved to silence it, but her words still pierced like an unattened kettle.