The Alpha's Curse The Enemy Within

Chapter 52 Fifty-Two

Sheila's point of view

"Run! Sweetheart, run! " A woman's voice rang loudly in my ears, capturing my attention from the fight that broke out around me. I was surrounded by warriors both in their human and wolf forms, as if they were protecting me, they fought against vicious wolves, having the stench of rogues.

My eyes fell back on the woman, who was a distance away from me, fighting as well. Her electric blue eyes shifted to me as I remained motionless on the ground. She was beautiful, having curvy brown hair. Her blue eyes lingered on me for the briefest of seconds, her gaze holding fear.

"Mother!" My lips moved, terrifyingly, as my eyes took notice of the vicious wolves about to lunge at the woman. Her eyes followed my trail, and before the wolves could successfully aim for her, she sent her fingers in the air, whispering a few words. Immediately, I heard the snapping of necks, and the wolves dropped dead on the bloody earth.

"Run!" The woman's voice sounded again, panic now rising in her voice. I managed to get my shaky legs to stand, and that was when I noticed my child-like legs and hands. I was young, in my nine-year-old body. I looked around confusedly when a young boy appeared out of nowhere. He was covered with blood, which wasn't his. He looked way older than me.

He grabbed my hand and jerked me from my frozen spot, and we began running into the woods with speed. I could hear the threatening growls that rippled through the trees, frightening me the more. I had no idea where I was or who the boy was, but I felt safe with him like he wouldn't hurt me

We kept running, suddenly stumbling back on our boots when we were surrounded by unknown figures dressed in uniform black cloaks. The young boy held my hand firmly, pushing me against his small frame. His other hand held onto his long sword tightly. I could feel the fear radiating off of him, but he didn't cower away. His deep hazel eyes sent me a look as if assuring me he would protect me until his last breath. Why did those gaze look so familiar?

I felt my heart hammer against my chest. The unknown figures moved closer to us. He raised his sword up, but quickly his sword was snatched from his grasp and he was thrown against a tree without even being touched.

"Brother!" My lips moved again but I had no control over my body. It was as if all I could do was watch this moment happen. They were witches. My eyes scanned around as they neared me.

They were only a short distance from me when several other figures dressed in red cloaks rushed to where we were, and they began to attack the unknown figures dressed in black. They were witches as well.

A woman with raven hair grabbed my small wrist, dragging me away from the fight into the woods with the young boy behind us. She held me and we kept running. Suddenly, my eyes caught the mark that was on her wrist. It was some kind of runic symbol. It was so familiar. I have seen it somewhere. But my brain was too scrambled to remember at the moment.

We came to a halt in the middle of a meadow, joining a few other witches wearing red cloaks. My eyes narrowed on the woman from earlier, the one I seemed to recognize as my mother. Was she really my mother? As soon as she saw me, she raced to my side, engulfing me in a hug.

"We need to hurry!" The raven-haired woman sounded, "Those leeches sent by the Dark Circle are still after the child."

"They can't have her. We must take her to safety." The woman, my mother, said, her eyes full of concern for me. Her hand was holding me firmly. She had the same familiar symbol on her wrist.

"You can be assured, Fiona, that the witches and I will protect her even if—" The raven-haired woman was cut off abruptly by the threatening growls that pierced through the night, and we were heavily surrounded by wolves and witches dressed in black.

Everything happened so fast, as pain devoured me and swift darkness covered my vision. By the time my eyes fluttered open, I found myself in the middle of a blood bath with the chaos around me.

The surroundings were familiar; it was a nightmare that had recently begun to haunt my every awakening. I looked down. I found that woman, Fiona–my mother, dead in my arms.

My body began to vibrate, knowing full well what was coming next. I had dreamt of this nightmare over and over again. And on cue, I released a loud scream that caused the earth to tremble and the wind to become violent. I didn't have control of my body, and then I was surrounded by vicious wolves. The chaos within me broke loose.

I jerked up from my bed, gasping for air, with a hand to my chest. My face was drenched in beads of sweat. My dress was drenched in sweat as well. I turned the lamp on, the burning fire lightening my chamber.

I glanced around. There was no one else in the room, and outside was still at the peak of dawn.

I sighed, finally able to steady my breathing.

It's just a dream, Sheila. It's just a dream. I repeated to myself, trying to calm my beating heart. But this time it felt more surreal than the last night.

I have no idea why I have been having these recurring dreams. Something was wrong. Tonight's dream felt more real than last night. It was as if I was reliving that moment over and over again. Each passing day I am more convinced it's from a memory that I can't seem to remember from my childhood.

Just thinking about it brought tears sliding down my eyes. I didn't even bother to wipe them away. Strangely, my heart tugged in pain just remembering the woman in my arms. I felt pain devouring my bones. If these dreams were actually memories, it would mean everything I had witnessed was real. The attacks, the pain, and so many deaths around us. I cried in pain. It took me a while before I could get a hold of my emotions.

I pulled my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. Even if that memory kills me, I have to figure out exactly what it meant. I couldn't recognize anyone from the dream. I tried remembering the surroundings in the dream, but it wasn't the silver mist pack. I didn't even see my father there. That was more confusing. Who was that young boy that I called brother? Why did it seem like everyone was trying to protect me? And there was the Dark Circle. Why on earth were they trying to have me? Nothing made sense.

I had so many questions that I didn't have answers to. It's frustrating me. For an insane second, I actually considered confronting my father about these dreams. Maybe he would know something.

But a thought kicked against it. My father was the last person that was likely to answer that question. He had always hated me and got mad whenever I spoke about the childhood I couldn't seem to remember. Confronting him was a bad idea. I just have to figure things out for myself.

I lay on the bed, watching as dawn slowly crept in.

I showered and dressed before going to Valerie's spell room. Maybe there was a way to know why I couldn't seem to remember my childhood, or maybe there could be some kind of spell to help me remember.

I reached Valerie's spell room; the door was locked. I called out to her but she wasn't responding. It seemed like she wasn't in, so I placed my hand on the door, desperately hoping it would open for me like it did the first time. I knocked on it once and was about to knock again when the door squeaked open. My lips broke into a smile. I couldn't even hide the elation that clawed its way to the surface. Without hesitation, I entered the spell room, shutting the door behind me.

Just as I had thought, Valerie wasn't in. There was no one there. I glanced around the room, from the tables that housed several strange objects, to the wooden shelves stuck with ancient-looking books at the end of the walls, to the trees that were in a corner. I had no idea exactly what to do now that I was in Valerie's spell room.

I sighed, walking to the shelves instead. Valerie told me some of the books were actually spell books, or better yet, grimoires, as she called them. I grabbed one from the shelves, pulling it open. I could barely understand the words written in them; they were in unknown languages.

I returned it to the shelf, grabbing another. I went through it. Half of the words were in English while the spellings were in unknown languages. I went through it, still hoping to find something relating to memories. But nothing. I returned it and kept on moving from one book to another on the shelf. The more I couldn't find what I was searching for, the deeper I fell into the pit of frustration.

I returned to the book in my hands back on the shelf, grabbing the next when a voice made me jerk back and the book in my hands fell to the floor.