#Chapter 267 – True Sister

Ella

The power comes slow, at first, and I feel like a dry terracotta pot into which the first drips of rain begin to fall. But then, as my body beings to take in the power, to soak it up like thirsty clay, the power starts to fall into me like a summer storm. It soaks every bit of me, splashing against my tired soul like a cooling salve.

But then, even when I feel I’ve had enough, it keeps coming, and coming. The storm of power in me grows until it becomes a monsoon, until it fills me, overflows me. Until it reaches my throat, threatening to fill my mouth, my nose, my lungs. I tilt my head back, desperate to keep above the tide, but it’s ceaseless.

I gasp, struggling, but I can feel it trickling around the edges of my mouth, finding its way in despite my efforts –

If only I’d had more time – if only I were stronger – but I can’t fight this – it’s too much –

I spit, trying to keep the water out of my mouth, but it pours in and I gasp against it, coughing as the power fills my lungs.

“Ella!”

Only a sliver of me can hear Cora’s shout – the rest of me is gone, consumed by the power, by the knowledge is gives me, by the way it fills me, possesses me, chokes me with its strength –

I can feel her hands on my shoulders, but then, suddenly – I’m gone –

My mind is filled entirely within the power now and I feel myself weakly working to swim through it, to get to the top, to come up for air. But my arms – they can’t seem to push through, to lift me. I gasp again, desperate for air, and the power floods down my throat, filling me, consuming me, grasping every edge of my body until my vision goes not black, but totally white.

And then, what I see next…

It is as if I’ve always known it. Always been aware, deep down, of precisely who she is. But in this moment, in my greatest weakness, I’ve finally realized it. That she is the only one who can help.

moment, my mother gives me a gift. A single image of her kneeling by a bedside in the orphanage, pressing a kiss to a little girl’s forehead as she whispers the word “daughter” lightly

little girl isn’t

It’s Cora.

of my heart,

the sister of my body. My

towards me and gives me a small smile. “Two daughters,” she says, soft. “One of wolf, one of human born.

“Why?”

the words if I tried, drowning as I am in her power. The Goddess shakes her head slowly, that small secret smile still on

to love each other willingly, to want to save each other. Not because you had to, because it was some written destiny. It must be a gift,

I stare at her. “Go now,” she says. “Your time is

spilling power, overflowing with light, but I’m laying flat on the steps of

voice, tears streaking down her face.

like fire within me and for a moment I close my eyes, trying to fight against

and look down at myself, at

blood everywhere

Oh my god.

eyes back to Cora’s face. “Cora,” I demand. “Cora,

voice as I plead with my sister, hear it somewhere

can – or it will kill

almost screaming against the sound of explosions so close to us, gripping her hand as hard

her voice

“You are my sister, Cora.” I stare into her gaze then, transmitting the truth through my eyes, through my hand on hers, through the bond that has always been there

suddenly, with the

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