I still remember my mother very well. I didn't lose her at that young of an age. I was just about to turn thirteen when the wolves came for her. So my memory of her is pretty spot on.
Mrs. Santiago was right when she said my mother was beautiful. She had long, straight, bleach-blonde hair that almost looked unnatural. Her skin was on the tanner side, which gave her an even more exotic look. I look nothing like her, having taken mostly after my Dad, but we did have one thing in common: our grey eyes. Still, where mine are pale and dull, hers were bright and sparkling, like two perfect diamonds.
I also remember her tattoo, though I now know it was actually a Witch's Mark. It was quite intricate. A unicorn, woven out of a Celtic circle, completely gold. The equine silhouette was rearing up,
