The Two Alphas' Fated Witch

Suppressed Magic and Memories

A silence permeates the workshop as Mrs. Santiago's words work their way into my brain. For a while, they seem like complete gibberish. Like I understand each English word, but the accumulation of these four to form a sentence is foreign to me. As they start to settle, though, I shake my head, slowly at first, then more fervently. "N-no, I can't be."

"I know this is a lot to take in," Mrs. Santiago says, "but-"

"You're wrong!" I suddenly shout, surprising the two women, as well as myself. But I don't stop there. "You must be mistaken, Mrs. Santiago. I'm not a witch."

She just looks at me with a mixture of pity and sadness. It's Cassie that actually responds. "I didn't believe it at first either, but you have to admit the signs are there."

"What signs? What are you talking about?!"

She rolls her eyes. "Come on, Ali. Don't you ever wonder why you never get cold? Or why you always feel at home in the outdoors? And how about how good you are with animals? You scared the crap out of Dylan that day you brought a snake home!"

"Those aren't signs. Those are just normal things about me! The cold thing is just because I'm fat. I like the outdoors because it's usually the only place where I can actually be alone. And that garter snake was hurt. I had to do something!"

Cassie glares at me. She hates when I make such comments on my weight. Nonetheless, she can't deny what's in front of her, and has been for several years. Plus, we have more pressing issues to discuss. Like how crazy the two of them are being right now!

"Then what about your migraines?"

"What about them?"

"Haven't you ever wondered what causes them? Or why normal medicine doesn't work?"

I stop. She has a point. My doctor still hasn't been able to point out a cause for my migraines. And normal medicines have never helped whatsoever. Still, my head keeps shaking side to side. "That just proves you are good at making remedies," I say, turning to Mrs. Santiago.

Now she is the one shaking her head. "While I appreciate the compliment, that isn't the main reason it works. Because those aren't for migraines."

Now I'm confused. "What do you mean?"

"Before I answer your question, let me ask you a different one. When you have your migraines, do any strange occurrences happen as well? Such as lights flickering, or a chill coming from seemingly nowhere?"

I'm starting to open my mouth, ready to say no, but memories of some of my worst migraines come back to me. And I realize she's right. There were times my candles blew out for no reason. And there were gusts of wind when no windows were open. Then, the other night, my car wouldn't start...

As all these previously-considered coincidences flow through my mind, Mrs. Santiago sighs. "I'll take that as a yes. That's because your migraines weren't the problem. They were merely a symptom."

A symptom? "Of what?"

"Of your magic being suppressed."

My eyes go wide as she answers me. Even Cassie seems shocked by her mother's revelation. With a pained look, Mrs. Santiago explains. "When a witch's magic is suppressed from either lack of use or another's magic, it will try to escape by any means necessary. As I said, such power has the potential to do great good or evil. It's not meant to be stored for long periods of time. We continue to create more with every breath we take, like the blood pumping through our veins. If we store too much, it seeps through any way it can. Usually in a not-so-pleasant manner." She points back to the jar of medicine behind me. "Those are to help release magic into the universe. Without any actual use of it."

"But if Ali wasn't suppressing her magic on purpose, then who was?"

Good question, Cassie. We wait for her mother's response, but neither of us are prepared for it. "That would be my doing."

What? "But why?"

Her apologetic brown eyes look like their about to cry. "Believe me, Ali. I never wanted to see you in pain. But I made a promise to Susanne to keep you safe until-"

"Wait, my mother? What does she have to do with..." My sentence trails off as memories of that fateful day return to me. I know what she's meaning. I begin to shake all over, first my head, then my entire body. It's the first time I've ever felt truly cold. "No... No. That can't be. Those wolves. They were wrong. She wasn't..." But the flashbacks start coming, and they don't stop.

***

There's a knock at the front door. I'm playing with my little brothers; some board game we got last Christmas. Mom comes down the stairs. "Coming!" she calls in her friendly tone.

As soon as she opens the door, however, a grey wolf pins her down, growling intensely. Two others leap over and start searching the house, growling at my brothers and I. They cry out in fear, so I grab their hands to try and make them feel better, putting myself between them and the wolves. Pretending to be the brave big sister, even though I keep staring at my mother, scared out of my mind. Nonetheless, they squeeze my hands as hard as they can, probably more afraid than I am.

Dad comes down, angrily shouting "What is the meaning of this? Get off of my wife!"

But the wolf doesn't budge. Instead, a man with a scar across his cheek comes in, stepping around my mom. He doesn't even look at her when he addresses my dad. "Good afternoon, sir. We are going around checking houses. This will only take a few minutes."

"What are you talking about? You have no right-"

The man produces a piece of paper in front of my father. He's almost bored, as if he'd been doing this all day. "Actually, we have a warrant. We are allowed to check every house for witches. We'll just check your house, and your women, then we'll be gone. Frankie." With a snap, the grey wolf pins my mom's arms and tears her sleeves off with its teeth.

"This is madness! My wife isn't a witch-"

A silence comes over the room as Mom's tattoo is made visible: a small unicorn, encircled by gold. I used to love tracing it on her arm when she read me bedtime stories. It's so pretty.

Suddenly, all the wolves start growling, louder than before. Even the ones in the back of the house. Mommy starts crying. "It's a tattoo. I swear I'm not a-"

"Shut up, w***e!" the mean man shouts. "Frankie, take her outside. I'll check the girl. Donald, Iris! Any others?"

Not waiting for an answer, the scary man comes straight towards me. I push my brothers further back, but I can't hide my shaking legs. He leans over and grabs my arms, making me cry out in pain. I try to get away, but he won't let go.

"Let go of my daughter! And where are you taking my wife?!"

The man says nothing as he yanks my arms left and right, scanning for something. But all he sees is my bare, red-toned skin, a few freckles, and some scars I got while playing outside. Finally satisfied, he releases me, and I rub my sore wrists. "No mark, and she's too old not to have one." He sneers menacingly, glaring at me with his dark brown eyes. "Lucky you."

He turns back to my father as the other two wolves return from various parts of the house. "Your wife is a witch, and will be dealt with as such. Have a good day."

And just like that, they leave the house. Taking my mother with them. It was then, as my father tried to run after them, that I finally started to cry.

***

"Ali, are you okay?"

Cassie's voice brings me back to the present. I realize then that my cheeks are coated in tears, but I don't care. I turn back to Mrs. Santiago, more determined than ever. "My mother was not a witch. Those wolves were wrong. She had a tattoo, not a witch's mark."

Mrs. Santiago looks at me, her eyes full of sadness. "I'm so sorry about your mother. Susanne was my best friend. If I could've stopped it, I-"

She chokes up at this point, and now we are both crying. No, it can't be. Surely I would've known if my own mother was a witch. She would've told me, right?

We cry for a bit longer. Then, Cassie reaches out her hands, caressing ours on the table. As her thumb slides back and forth on my skin, a calming sensation begins to slowly stop my tears, until my sobs completely cease.

Mrs. Santiago calms down too. She wipes her tears away and smiles at her daughter. "Thank you, Cassandra."

She smiles kindly, just like her mother. "No problem, Mom."

I sigh, finally accepting the truth. But it just leads to more questions. "Why didn't she tell me? And why don't I have a witch's mark?"

"Your mother was a very powerful witch, specializing in healing and protection magic. She sensed something was about to happen, so she began suppressing your magic long before...that day. She showed me how to do it, as well, but as you got older, your magic began to build up. You started having migraines, so I had to improvise. Hence the medicine."

"How long were you planning on hiding this from me? Surely you weren't planning on suppressing my magic forever." It feels so strange saying the words "my" and "magic" in the same phrase. But I can't deny it any longer. What they say is true, and they have made it plenty apparent.

"I was going to start training you once you got out of that house, but since you started to work for the Fur Clan, and as their Alpha's secretary, no less..."

She lets that sentence die off, but her point is made perfectly clear. I was in danger. I didn't know it at the time, but I was. And I may still be.

"But I still work for Mr. Furbank. Why tell me all of this now?" Then, an unwelcomed thought comes to mind. "Are you going to keep suppressing my magic?"

"Not if we can get rid of that!" Cassie exclaims, pointing accusingly at my shoulder.

Right, the marks...

Oh f**k, the marks!