Untouchable by Marii Solaria

Chapter 66 – The Avatar

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Bonu

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“The world, even the smallest parts of it, is filled with things you don’t know.” Sherman Alexie

Κίνα

The sounds of book pages turning resounded through the quiet atmosphere of the library. This book didn’t have what I was looking for, so I ditched it and looked in another. I was discharged after a few days, under strict doctor’s orders to take it easy. I couldn’t strain myself because I was still in recovery.

Fortunately, I was clear to train the pup trainees but cannot assert much physically. It sucked. I felt like half a wolf. Weakness was something I loathe. My healing ability remained, but wolves must take time healing from poison. My friends brought me home, yet Neron was bending over backward to ensure that I wouldn’t stress myself out.

It was weird of him to watch my every move. He took my recovery seriously, ensuring that I wouldn’t lift a finger around him. Neron became an overbearing mother, fussing over my health. As much as I appreciated the care, I was not helpless. For example, I could walk up the stairs myself, but he was so insistent on carrying me up there.

Any excuse to get closer to me, I guess.

Shaking my thoughts free from the Alpha, I rummaged through historical records, focusing on the timeless existence of werewolves. In this sea of books, one held information on white wolves. I needed to find it. The Zircon Library was a large place in the very back of the pack house. It took a minute to find this place after such a long time.

Using the rolling ladder, I climbed to the top of several bookshelves, eyeing the myriad of titles on book spines. None catch my interest. Werewolf shifting, full moon lunacy, werewolf hierarchy, I didn’t care about that.

I needed to know what I was. If white wolves were so rare, there must be other reasons besides being the embodiment of Selene. I wanted to know why I was born a white wolf. Why did Selene choose me as her

avatar?

As I was about to part with my search, a particular book captured my attention. Hidden in plain sight, it was the only book without its title on its spine. I jerked the rolling ladder forward, pulling the dusty book from its

confinements..

Several sneezes later, at a table, I examined the old, brown, leather–bound book. Nothing about it hinted to the subject within. It was cloaked in mystery. Despite its ancient appearance, there was a silvered lock that bound the book shut. A lock without a keyhole.

“What the hell?” I whispered, searching for a way to unlock the book. But there was none. The one book that captured my attention in the endless sea of literature is the one book I couldn’t crack open. “Fuck!” Something in this book was calling to me, urging me to keep this piece of history.

Was it instinct? Was it the weird pull I have to it? Or am I going crazy? My desperation is showing. The desire to learn my identity had never been stronger, and it was affecting my focus. Slumping in my chair, I huffed, my breath flailing my curly fringe in the air.

“The journey of self–discovery is more complicated than I thought.” Chuckling to myself, I continue to

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got caught in a sharp

air, blood dribbling fast from the tiny wound. Some crimson droplets flung from the cut, landing on the book. One lone drop of blood landed at

Click!

shock. Did…did my blood just… “What kind of

blood was the

dust this thing accumulated- and started flipping through the pages. Page upon page, images drawn by the delicate stroke of

howling wolf. Two wolves. An infant cradled inside a blanket. Goddess Selene. Many images tell at silent, wordless story. I became engrossed, the book

The calligraphy penmanship was ancient, old as time itself. Small words filled the entire page. Every sword I read sent a droplet of

wolves are revered in werewolf society as perfect embodiments of their matron goddess, Selene. She, who treasures her creations dearly, made one creation that would take

beloved Selene holds power beyond imagination. They can heal. they grant protection, grant wishes, and hold the moon mysticism within their bodies. They are the physical embodiments of the wolves‘ beloved goddess. It is said that those who are granted the chance

exploit the white wolf for their selfish, sometimes deadly needs. Many white wolves in the ancient past are killed by their captors or commit suicide to escape their dreaded fates. Selene, hurt by

do not hold the immense power history has reverend them to.

Goddess.

representative and most sacred child. How Selene chooses her successor is and would remain a

of those filled with greed. Only the next century’s avatar, whoever he or she may be, could unlock the sacred contents of

The Avatar

I closed the book, locking it in place.

with its contents? Surely, I could tell my friends, right? They always treated me like an equal. They’re the only ones who I’d allow to see

when I was unconscious. Does he care that I was a white wolf? His father insisted on him mating with me

was Phoebe, but that was it, as far as I

book to my chest. The book was about as large as a school textbook, but the weight

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room‘ I thought to myself, beginning my journey back into my room. This large pack house doesn’t compare to the house

scent of cardamom and cinnamon flowed in my nose. It didn’t bring pleasure, it brought pain. The scent alone awoken the deepest and darkest of the horrific memories of my past. Phantom bites on my arm, fists to my stomach and chest, and the blows to my head, I felt them all. One

that brought terror in my heart,

at the large, bulky, yet aging body of Jonathan Prince, Neron’s father, my former Alpha. The ringleader of my

but to smack

White Wolf book.” His voice was like smooth velvet to the ears of admirers, but to me, they grated against my eardrums. It bound a headache to

it?”

me, compressing my ribcage. It’ll

the bravest of all souls into a shriveling mess. Fear had incredible longevity; it could last more than a human’s lifespan. Jonathan’s presence was maddening and overbearing. The

he took forward,

won’t hurt

croaking out into the world it left years ago. Hatred billowed in my mind in a haze

fear. You can’t fear me after all these years, huh? You’re a renowned Delta,

a cinder. “I have every run the wary of you!”