Tangled

70 Ava: Sister Miriam (II)

Trepidation and anxiety flow in equal measure through my veins as my mother leans forward, tired of waiting for a clear answer. “Can you sense if Ava is pregnant, Sister Miriam?” o

The woman’s eyes glaze, her gaze becoming distant as if peering into another realm. Her voice deepens, taking on a strong cadence that seems to vibrate the very air around us. “An ancient power lies dormant, awaiting the weakest to awaken it. Her womb shall house the strongest, who will inherit the legacy of the

Lycans.”

And just like that, she’s back, the energy dispersed in mere seconds. She blinks at me, then toward my

mother. “It is uncertain,” she answers, still with her eerie smile. “I shall come again before the ceremony. Alpha Renard has chosen well.”

“Ah, yes…” My mom’s pathetic agreement only cements her disdain toward me. “Thank you for coming, Sister

Miriam.”

“What are friends for, Grace?”

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70 Avs Ster Miriam (1)

Sister Miriam’s gaze meets mine once again. There’s a glint in her eyes that makes me nervous. “If you ever need me, child,” she says, her voice low and almost melodic, “simply light a candle and call my name. I’ll

find you.”

I watch Sister Miriam leave, her words lingering in the air like an ominous mist. As the door closes behind her,

my mother lets out a shudder, her face twisted. She

reaches for a small travel bottle of hand sanitizer on Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

the dresser and rubs the gel over her palms, making sure no amount of skin is untouched, as if trying to scrub away an invisible stain.

“Who is she?” I ask, unable to contain my curiosity despite the strange encounter.

My mother’s eyes narrow as she turns to face me. “Stop being so nosy, Ava,” she snaps, her voice laced with irritation. “That’s none of your concern.”

She looks over my body in disgust. “It’s unfortunate that we still don’t know if you’re pregnant, but I guess there’s little we can do except wait.”

I watch my mother closely as she continues fussing with my hair, her movements stiff and agitated. The

C

70 Ava: Sister Miriam (II)

with Sister Miriam has left her visibly unsettled, a rare crack

demeanor.

of prophet?” I ask, unable to contain my curiosity any

in my hair. She meets my gaze in the mirror, her eyes narrowing. “I told you, it’s none

sharp tone, but a part of me refuses to back down. “But she was saying

what was said here.

own status in the pack. If Alpha Renard hears something like that, it doesn’t matter what plan Phoenix has in

tightens, and I wince as she tugs at a lock with more force than necessary. “Enough, Ava. You’re not to

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Sister Miriam

heard countless

out a soft, “Yes,” hoping I

***

thoughts and a thousand more worries as I pace back and forth in the cramped space of my bedroom, having skipped dinner with the family.

down any food, wondering if at any moment they’d start talking about Sister Miriam’s words.

in my head like a haunting melody. How did she know about the power I can’t access? And

spot?

sound of the door opening interrupts my circular thoughts and I whirl around to see Phoenix entering the room. His expression is grim, his brow furrowed

with caution. “What’s going on?” I

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Ava Sister Miriam

ask, heart pounding.

hair. “Mom and Dad are freaking out about what Sister Miriam said,” he

in my head.

to vomit all the food I’ve eaten from

he assures me, but his tone is laced with uncertainty.

bear him any kids, considering that he hasn’t had any luck in so long. Even with

Renard is barren.”

“What do you mean? How do you know

of some

kids weren’t

true. “How

weight rolling his

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Sister Miriam (II)

to my desk, then to the floor off to the side of him. “Mom was his

helped cover it

wife bearing children that were not truly his own. They’d been his pride and joy, even if they were weak for alpha–heirs, all of them dying during what would be

skirmishes with other

revelation is almost too much to

they weren’t alpha heirs at all.

were weak. Did she

ask, my voice trembling with a mixture

a pack. She didn’t want to lose her position

my bed, my mind reeling. How many other secrets are buried beneath the surface

our pack?

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