THIRTEEN

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HAVEN TRIED TO WRAP HER HEAD AROUND WHAT HER MOM JUST TOLD HER.

"Witches don't exist!"

"You believe in werewolves but not witches?" Merced quirked up an eyebrow. 

Haven and Merced came from a lineage of witches, the Marshalls, that had been "cursed" a long time ago, but Merced doesn't like that terminology. There was a witch coven that despised werewolves, much like the Argents, and used their magic to hunt down werewolves. Their ancestor, Brigette, didn't like the teaching of her coven.

She befriended werewolves, tried to help them escape before the rest of the coven knew. The Regent of their coven soon found this out.

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Brigette was running as fast as she could, helping the teen wolf through the woods. Soft chants could be heard behind them, and Brigette felt time slipping from them.

"Brigette Marshall, halt," a stern voice called, and against her own will, Brigette stopped mid-run, something invisible restraining her from moving.

"Go," she said through gritted teeth to the teenager in front of her, but he refused to move without her. "Go, they will kill you."

"They'll kill you!" he argued.

"We won't kill her," Opal, the coven's Regent, claimed as the coven encircled the two. "But she won't go unpunished." 

With a wave of a hand, the restraint on Brigette ended, and she fell forward. Soft cries could be heard, and Brigette's eyes widened. Tears poured down her face.

"Please, please, Opal, leave her out of this," she said when she saw her two year old daughter being carried by another witch in the coven. 

"You have let countless monsters run free, Brigette. Werewolves who know nothing but a lack of control and murder," Opal said.

"They're just kids!" yelled back Brigette. "With golden eyes that show you their innocence!"

"Golden eyes turn to blue in a matter of seconds, dear Brigette," argued back Opal, walking in a slow circle around the two. "Sisters, now."

She held her arms up and everyone started chanting, one of them putting the little girl in the circle. Brigette wrapped her arms around her daughter, the teen wolf snarling at the witches, but he couldn't move either. Brigette didn't know the chant, but she did feel her breathing get choked out from her, but right before she lost consciousness, the chanting stopped.

"From here on out, your descendants shall not be able to wield nature's magic unless in constant exposure to violence by a werewolf. This way, your family will always pay the price of you letting murderers free. Your family will be defenseless in their times of need, unable to have control over their magic, unable to fight off the monsters you thought deserved to live."

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