The Huntress

Part 34: The price she must pay

Scaring tales and whispers from the past filled her mind. Ancient lullabies and words of magic had filled her childhood. She had seen her mother's wounded arms, and every time she would ask about them. Her father would kiss his mate's arms and would tell his daughter how brave her mother was.

Young Laurel couldn't comprehend that outside her house, her little garden, and that forest, wicked people lived. Her father trained her every single day, and her mother taught her about herbs that could heal but also cause infections and bleedings. At first, it was all a game to her, and later, a way to protect her family.

It wasn't until she learned the truth behind those marks that she understood how great her duty was. The Huntress woke up the night she heard of an old story. The night she learned that monsters roamed on the earth.

Laurel's mother was born in a small village where humans and witches lived peacefully. She had a troubled childhood, and she was the youngest of eight children. Both of her parents possessed powers, but none of their children could do the simplest spell. When she turned 15, she felt something sharp and hungry rising inside her soul, desperate for release and hungry for power.

Her parents tried to tame the power that terrified them. They saw how their daughter changed in the way she spoke and her denial to live among humans. She believed that her powers were a gift given by the gods, meant only for her, the chosen one.

One day a few months after her fifteenth birthday, she went to the woods to collect herbs. Out of a sudden, a few farm boys appeared and started teasing her for her difference and her fearless manners.

She, afraid of no one, didn't hesitate to use her powers against them. They beat her and harassed her, always laughing. Her attacks and screams only made them attack her fiercer. Until all her scruples dissolved, and she let the magic to burn her veins. Strong vortexes encircled them, and the dark, grey clouds covered the previously crystal blue sky.

The pleads of the farmer boys, and the terror in their eyes fed the power inside her, and she didn't stop until it was pleased. The villagers found her sitting on the ground, inside a circle of blood and dismemberment limbs. A wicked grin was on her face, and her bloody eyelashes stared in bliss.

No one could save her from what followed. Not her mother's cries, and not her father's pleading. The brother that stood in front of her to protect her from the stones fell dead among the rest of the bodies.

Part of her watched the scene as if it was a bird passing by that village. A part of her was screaming inside, understanding the madness that had taken over, but a third part, the stronger one, was feeding on the pain and sorrow.

The verdict was clear: death in the pyre.

She felt the fire closing her, licking her torn dress and playing with her hair. She saw distorted faces falling on the ground, shouting things she couldn't hear. Her skin started getting hot while the flames were traveling across her tied wrists.

The last thing she saw before she found the strength to beam out of that scalding prison was her mother, running toward the pyre to die with her youngest child.

''We'll be there in ten minutes,'' a voice said and brought Laurel back to reality.

Burning someone was the worst punishment her mother would give. Every time she wanted to avenge, she would burn that person, as if taking revenge for the fire that once burned her. That meant that these witches had done something terrible, according to her mother.

She hadn't had enough time to explain those thoughts to James. After Thomas' call, they dressed up and took some weapons, while James mind-linked some of the warriors to come with them. They drove, hoping to save someone. Thomas was there along with Alan, the werewolf that assisted in the cave, and the two men tried to rescue the witches.