Lily
My fingers gripped the edges of the diary as I turned the page, heart pounding in my chest. I had to keep going. I had to know what happened next; what Miriam had endured… what still haunted her world.
Her confessions bled onto the parchment like old wounds reopened. "Zal's curse was unlike anything I had ever encountered. It was deep and ancient. A magic so vile that even I, with all my knowledge, could not undo it." I swallowed, my throat burning. "I tried. Oh, I tried. I searched for counter-spells, for any loophole in the binding. But I was too late. The curse had already sunk into the bloodline, twisting their fate beyond my reach."
And then… "Jim died." I gasped, pressing a trembling hand to my mouth. "It was unnatural. So sudden. One day he was strong, and the next, he withered. His body aged before our eyes, his once-powerful frame reduced to a husk of what it had been. His mate followed soon after, as though the bond that tethered them to life had snapped. The kingdom mourned. The wolves howled for their fallen Alpha. Marlick had lost its greatest leader."
My vision blurred. I couldn't stop the tears this time. They fell, quiet and hot, onto the fragile page. "And then, the whispers began." My breath hitched. I already knew what was coming. And yet… nothing could prepare me for it. "They wanted someone to blame. Someone to hold responsible for the tragedy that had befallen them. And who better than the woman who had lived among them for years, who was not one of them, but something… else?"
They turned on her. Miriam. "It started with hushed conversations. Side glances. Averted gazes. Then, the accusations. 'She's a sorceress,' they said. 'She was always close to Jim. She must have done something.' I pleaded. I swore upon the moon itself that I had not harmed him. But fear is stronger than reason. And fear had already won." I felt sick. "They came for me at dusk."
The handwriting wavered here; lines jagged, pressed too deep, like her hands had trembled. "I didn't fight back. I couldn't. Not against the people I had once protected. They dragged me into the streets, their claws tearing at my flesh, their fists breaking my bones. My power could have saved me, but I did not use it. I let them do their worst." I slammed a hand over my mouth, nausea rising as I imagined it…her body, broken beneath their rage. "I thought I would die that night. I was fine dying with Jim. I welcomed it. But fate was cruel. Just as my vision darkened, just as I surrendered to the pain, someone cut through the chaos. A voice. A command."
Jake. "Jake Marlick. Jim's eldest son. He was young, barely an adult, but his presence was enough to halt the mob. 'Let her go,' he said. 'You've done enough.' His eyes held sorrow, not hatred. And when the others hesitated, he did what none of them dared—he freed me. He told me to run. That I could never be safe in Marlick again." She ran. Through woods that had once welcomed her. Alone. Wounded. Betrayed. I clutched the diary to my chest for a heartbeat, grounding myself before I turned the page. But the ache only deepened.
"I ran with nothing but a shattered body and a fractured soul. And from that moment on, I vowed never to look back." I closed my eyes. My chest heaved with every word I couldn't unsee. The betrayal. The injustice. The heartbreak. But what wrecked me most was this: The curse still lingers. The fear is still alive. And Elis… Elis is still trapped in that same darkness.
This wasn't just Miriam's history anymore. It was my present. My cross now. I couldn't stop. My fingers turned the next page before I even realized it, drawn to the sorrow bleeding from her final entries. "Jim was dead. Zal disappeared. My sisters in the coven scattered. One by one, they vanished. I was left with questions and ghosts. The silence of the woods became my only companion." She had survived. Barely.
"I hid. I healed. I tried, again and again, to break Zal's curse. Every spell, every chant, every desperate plea to the universe… all in vain. His magic was rooted too deep, like a sickness that could not be cured." The ink darkened here, pressed deeper into the parchment. "Then, after years of solitude, I met another man. A kind one. Uran." Uran? I'd never heard that name before. "He had warm eyes and a gentle soul. He did not fear me, nor did he try to change me. Somehow, we built something fragile. Something hopeful. We married and moved to a distant city…Teva. A place untouched by Marlick's hatred and Zal's curse."
My heart softened. For a moment, she had peace. "And then… Martha was born." My mother. I traced the name with trembling fingers. "Martha was my light. My relief. She was normal, untouched by the burdens I bore. She did not hear whispers in the wind or feel the pulse of magic in the earth. For that, I thanked the stars. I thought she would be free. Free of the weight that crushed me."
Martha grew. Loved. Laughed. "She was radiant. Beautiful. She met a man. James. And for a while, I believed she had everything I never could." Then came the cruel twist of fate. "Before Martha could marry, Uran fell ill. It was sudden. Merciless. His body withered under an unknown sickness. And before I could save him—before anyone could—he was gone." I covered my mouth, trying to steady my breathing.
"Martha delayed her wedding to mourn. But love waited for no one. When she finally married James, she was already fighting against the sorrow clinging to our home. I watched her smile, but it never quite reached her eyes." And then… Me. "Then came Lily. My granddaughter. My beautiful, perfect Lily." I choked on a sob.
"I held her in my arms and knew…she was special. The stars had whispered her name long before she was born. But I dared not think of what it meant." And as if the universe couldn't leave us in peace… "Martha had a friend. Iris. A woman whose hunger ran deeper than friendship. Lust poisoned her heart, and before we knew it… James was gone. He left my daughter for another."
I felt my stomach twist. My father… had abandoned us? "Martha was not like me. She did not have my resilience. My fight. She was too soft. Too fragile. Her heart could not bear the weight of betrayal." The words blurred again. My mother had been breaking all along…and I'd never known. I had always believed we were just quiet people. A small family. But this wasn't a quiet history. This was a battlefield.
I shut the diary, slowly this time. Pressed it to my chest like I could shield it…or draw strength from it. I had inherited more than blood. I had inherited a war. And I wouldn't run from it. Not now.