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?"
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?"
