Chapter 8

832 Words
#MBTACChapter8 — The room was tense, a fragile truce barely holding as Lyra stood in the middle of the bookstore, her cloak brushing the floor. Timothy leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his posture defensive. Nimbus perched on a nearby shelf, his tail swishing as if he sensed the charged atmosphere. “I don’t trust her,” Timothy said bluntly, his eyes narrowing on Lyra. “You show up out of nowhere, claim to be an ally, and expect us to believe you?” Lyra arched an eyebrow, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to his aggression. “I expected skepticism, Alpha, but I didn’t expect outright hostility. If I wanted to harm you, do you think I’d stroll up to your doorstep unarmed?” “Stranger things have happened,” Timothy shot back. I stepped between them, raising a hand. “Enough. Both of you. I don’t have time for some supernatural pissing contest.” Timothy blinked, taken aback, but Lyra gave a small, approving smile. “Spoken like someone who’s had enough of wolves and witches alike.” I turned to her, arms crossed. “If you’re here to help, start talking. Who are you, and what do you know about this curse?” Lyra inclined her head, her gaze steady. “Fair enough. I’m Lyra Ashworth, a witch from the Greenmoon Coven. My coven has been monitoring the Red Warriors’ curse for decades. We’ve watched as it’s claimed life after life, hoping one day to find the key to breaking it.” “And you think that’s me?” I asked, incredulous. Her eyes softened. “Yes. Or rather, your family. The charm your mother left you wasn’t just protection—it was a tether to an ancient bond forged long before this curse began. Your bloodline is tied to the very magic that created the curse, which means you might be the only one who can unravel it.” Timothy let out a sharp laugh, his tone dripping with disbelief. “Convenient. You’ve been ‘monitoring’ us for decades, and yet you show up only now? Why? Because we’re desperate?” Lyra’s expression hardened. “Because the curse is nearing its final stage. You know that better than anyone, don’t you, Alpha? Your glowing scars are proof. If the curse isn’t broken soon, you and your pack will fall to madness—or worse.” Timothy’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond. “Wait,” I interjected, holding up a hand. “You’re saying the curse is reaching some kind of… endgame? Why now? It’s been around for centuries, right?” Lyra nodded. “Yes, but magic isn’t static. It evolves, shifts, especially when tied to strong emotions like betrayal or vengeance. Over time, the magic that cursed the Red Warriors has grown unstable. It’s unraveling—but that instability is making it more dangerous. It’s why the shadow wolves attacked you last night, and why they’ll keep coming.” My stomach churned. “Great. So not only am I connected to this, but I’m also a target?” “You were always a target,” Lyra said softly. “That’s why your mother made the charm. She knew this day would come.” Timothy stepped forward, his voice low and menacing. “If you knew this was coming, why didn’t you warn us? Why wait until we’re on the brink of destruction to show up?” Lyra met his glare without flinching. “Because until now, there was no way to break the curse. We needed the tether—her family’s connection to the magic—and it only surfaced recently. I came as soon as I could.” “Convenient excuse,” Timothy growled. “Stop,” I said sharply, turning to him. “She might actually have answers, Tim. We can’t afford to turn away help just because you don’t like her.” His gaze softened slightly as it met mine, but the tension in his posture remained. “Fine. But if she steps out of line—” “I won’t,” Lyra interrupted. “I want the same thing you do: to end this curse before it destroys everything.” Her sincerity was hard to deny, but Timothy’s wariness was contagious. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my thoughts. “Okay, so what’s the plan? How do we break this thing?” Lyra’s expression grew serious. “First, we need to uncover the full history of your bloodline and its connection to the curse. Your mother’s grimoire is a start, but it’s incomplete. There are missing pieces we’ll need to find.” “And where do we find those?” I asked. “In places neither of you will like,” she said cryptically. Timothy scowled. “Stop with the riddles, witch. Where?” Lyra’s gaze darkened. “The lands of the Red Warriors’ first betrayal. The curse began there—and so will our answers.” — To be continued...
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