The moon hung heavy in the sky, its silvery glow casting long shadows across the desolate forest. The wind howled through the trees, but Mary could hardly hear it. The pounding of her heart drowned out the sound of everything else—the weight of what was about to happen pressing down on her chest.
She sat down, her back against a tree, her hands trembling as they clutched the bundle in her arms. Clara—her child, her flesh and blood—was just beginning to stir. Her twin sister lay on the ground beside her legs.
The children, unaware of the darkness of the night, slept peacefully. Mary was scared. This was a moment she had never wanted to face, but now it was upon her.
Her breath quickened as she looked toward the distant flicker of torches, signaling that the hunters were closing in. They had come for her. For her daughters. Because of what they were. Her lover had abandoned them. His actions—his betrayal—had sealed their fate. The king, the Alpha of the pack, had ordered the execution of the mother and one of her daughters. Only one could survive, because to the Alpha, only Clara existed.
The truth was undeniable: her daughters were dangerous. They were too powerful to exist in a world that feared what they could become. Mary could feel it in her very bones—the power that ran through their veins, ancient and forbidden. She was a witch, and their father was a wolf. They had inherited that gift. But she could only take one.
Tears welled in her eyes as she gazed at Clara, who had just begun to open her eyes, looking up at her mother with innocent wonder. Mary kissed the top of her daughter's head, whispering a soft, heartfelt prayer into her hair. "Forgive me, my love. This is the only way. You'll be safe. I swear it."
Her heart felt as though it was tearing in two. She had to make a choice.
The torches were closer now. She could hear their shouts, their voices angry and loud, the crunch of boots on the forest floor. She could feel them drawing near, their scent thick on the air. The men had been searching for her for days, hunting her like an animal. If they found them now, it would be the end.
Mary's mind raced, her thoughts spinning wildly. There was no time. No time to do what she wanted. No time to hold them both.
"Clara," she whispered, the name catching in her throat. She cradled the infant tightly, her eyes flashing with determination. "You will live. You will be free."
The witch within her stirred. The magic thrummed beneath her skin, an ancient power she had barely begun to tap into. But tonight, she would need all of it. She raised her hand, her fingers crackling with energy. The spell was dangerous, not just for the ones she sought to protect, but for her as well. The cost was great, but there was no other choice.
With a sharp inhale, she invoked the spell, her voice rising in a low, mournful chant that vibrated in the air. The wind began to stir violently, trees creaking under the sudden force. The earth itself seemed to groan, a distant rumble of thunder following the surge of power.
But as the magic surged, a cold, crushing force gripped her heart. She could feel the pull of her daughters' bond, the deep, unbreakable connection between them.
"Please," she begged silently, her breath coming in desperate gasps. "Please let me save her."
Clara's cries echoed in the night as Mary magic began to take hold. The air shimmered around them, a hazy blur of energy that quivered like heat on a summer day. The earth shifted beneath her feet, and then, with a final, anguished cry, the spell took hold.
The portal to the witch world had opened.
She picked up Clara and the twin sister, ready to pass through the portal when a man came running. She was scared—until she realized it was her lover.
Tears streamed down her face as she ran to him, throwing her arms around him in relief. "I thought you abandoned us," she said, crying.
"I will never," he said, looking down at his daughters and kissing them gently. "You have to go. They are close," he said, his voice filled with panic.
"Come with us, Alfred," she pleaded, her voice thick with tears.
"My life is here, Mary. Our love is a mistake. Our love is an abomination," he said, his own tears falling freely. Then he kissed her, leaving his hand on her cheek as he stroked it softly.
"Take her," she said, her voice breaking.
Alfred looked at her in confusion. "Take her," she repeated, pressing one of the twins into his arms.
"Her name is Penelope," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. She kissed Penelope softly, then turned, without another word, and passed through the portal. It closed behind her with a final, resounding click.
She had succeeded in the spell—Clara was safe.
But then she remembered.
Penelope.
Her heart lurched painfully as the thought crashed over her like a tidal wave. She had not been able to take her. She could still feel the pull of Penelope's essence, the bond that tied them together. It was a phantom ache in her chest.
She had left her daughter behind—with Alfred.
Mary sank to her knees, clutching Clara to her chest, her tears falling silently. The weight of her decision threatened to crush her, but there was nothing she could do now. She had saved one life. Penelope was still out there—not in danger, but with her father.
She had created a portal, not knowing exactly where it would take her.
The sounds of distant footsteps echoed through the woods. Someone was close.
Mary hugged Clara closer, ready to face whatever came next. The world had changed, but for her, the fight was just beginning.