My Possessive Werewolf Alpha Mate

Chapter 7 - Strange Dreams

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As the basket falls over the abyss of the roaring water, the scene was immediately diverted on what was happening inside the basket. The child’s transformation was quite unbelievable on the naked eye, but then if you are born in the world of myths and the supernatural, I am guessing that what you see is normal.

The baby’s giggle rang inside my ears, her small blinking eyes turned from striking silver to baby blue. The similar, glowing, blue cross-liked mark on her forehead vanished and mimicked the same color of her fair skin—but deep inside me, I can feel her mark’s presence, it’s power radiating of her. Somehow, this baby was calm—as if someone was holding her tight in its arms, protecting her from any danger that may come forth.

Not long before the basket hit the water, the splashes of water have snaked its way through the small holes of the weaved basket, sprinkling small globules on the baby’s face. I could hear each drop, each cry that escaped her quivering lips.

The scene had finally faded from my point of view, another scene unfolding before my eyes. The sunlight streamed across the skies, the breeze smelt of porridge and burning charcoals. My adopted parents…? They’re living in a small cabin by the forest, they seemed happy and living normally like any other couples, but then they never looked like they are now. My father was chopping some wood, sweat trickling down his forehead as his axe hit the small piece of trunk, dividing it to two pieces. His muscles flexed and he seemed… younger than he is now.

My mother was humming while her hand stirred a small pot, a smile plastered across her face. But something seemed to come up in her mind, her face crinkled in annoyance and so a frustrated sigh escaped her lips. She grabbed a small jug and went out of the door, kissing my adopted father on the cheek.

My mother was wearing a long skirt that reached her ankles—it has patches in a few section paired with a long-sleeved, cream-white blouse and a pair of slippers. My father was wearing a shirt with long sleeves and showed off his chest, paired with some tunic pants and high-boots. His outfit made him look like a hunter—but then I don’t know…

“Going somewhere?” my father’s melodious voice chuckled as he absentmindedly wiped off the beads of sweat in her forehead with his arm, wiping his slick skin against his shirt.

What is this?

“I need to fetch some water for our lunch” my mother answered, a small smile playing on her lips.

“Well let me come with you” my father told her, plucking out a sharp bolo from his belt. It was quite old and rusty. “You’ll need someone to protect you from the wild animals of the forest” its rusty blade glinting under the sunlight’s beams.

My mother laughed and shook her head, holding the jug up and placing it above her head. “Well then, my knight in shining armor. Why not guide a damsel to the river?” she asked, chuckling.

“With pleasure, mademoiselle” he bowed and placed his sword back in place, gently clutching my mother’s fingers in his while venturing towards the forest.