Page 12 of Prey of the Lycan Queen (Unwanted #2)

Chapter Twelve

Dawn is approaching, casting long, winding shadows across the city as I approach Kelly’s store with Gnash, Hunter, Shadow, and Regan trailing behind me. Regan has been strangely quiet since I woke up. He’s barely spoken to me since I mentioned going to their kingdoms.

Stepping into the town square, I spot Kelly’s store.

At first glance, it’s no different than any other shop lining the streets of this little bustling city.

There’s a curtained doorway and a window display filled with dresses and knickknacks.

However, the longer I stare, the more symbols I notice etched into the windows.

How did I not notice them before? I’ve spent my entire life staring at runes.

Something like this should have caught my eye.

In a world where being a witch is a death sentence, I must admit, Kelly is brave. Even the colorful murals on her storefront have subtle uses of mystical symbols. To humans and those not familiar with the craft, maybe they wouldn’t notice.

As I approach the store, Kelly pulls open the curtained door, almost like she knew I would arrive early.

Her raven hair blows over her shoulders like a bridal veil, giving me an unobstructed view of her high cheekbones and narrow nose.

The smell of sage and dragon’s blood incense wafts out into the street as she holds the door open, and her long black dress with a moon emblazoned on the front catches in the draft.

From the outside, Kelly is radiant, but in her eyes, I see the same shadows that plague my own. She wears the weight of the same darkness that haunts me, and she looks tired and worn from years of hiding.

“Zirah,” Kelly greets me as I step inside. Her sharp eyes take notice of the darkness I carry that mirrors her own, and she smiles softly. Her eyes skirt over Regan as he stares into the mural on her storefront. “Come, there’s much to discuss.”

“Did you change this place?” Regan asks, and I realize he too is noticing the runes within the art and etched into the brickwork and glass windows. The early light of the rising sun casts the world in a blue-gray hue as I scan the street warily.

A woman with fiery red hair stands in front of the store directly across from Kelly’s. She is sweeping the store’s entrance with a straw broom but stops mid-sweep as if sensing our eyes on her.

The storefront is shabby, like many of the others, with a dilapidated sign advertising antiques and collectibles for sale.

That’s when I notice the runes tangled into the sign’s border, and the moon in the front window seems to glow like a beacon at me.

The woman dips her head and then nods toward the side of the square as she returns to sweeping.

Regan gasps, and I turn to see another woman sitting at a table in front of a bookshop, this one with a book propped open in one hand and a cup of tea in the other.

A pair of square glasses sits perched on the end of her nose, and she’s staring fondly at the shop she sits in front of.

..but not at the shop itself. She’s eyeing the pentagram sitting above the door.

There is nothing subtle or hidden about it. It’s like she is flipping off the king.

She smiles and sets her book down, turning her piercing gaze to us, just like the first woman. She tips her head and lifts her cup of tea, and immediately I look directly to the other side of the street.

Leila is in the window of the apothecary, rearranging the shelves on display.

Her grandmother sways in the rocking chair out front, watching her grandson playing with a set of marbles on the sidewalk.

The old woman smiles as she gazes back, and I chuckle, realizing how many of them have been hiding in plain sight.

“How?” I ask Kelly.

“Our mothers knew Litha’s death was imminent, and we were all dropped off at orphanages to hide.

I was only eight but most of us were branded with our mother’s memories.

Once our magic manifested, we found our way back to each other.

It was Leila’s mother and grandmother who survived the initial culling of our coven and helped piece things back together.

It was Leila’s aunt Flur who gave sacrifice for Litha. ”

“What happened to Leila’s mother?” I ask.

“She died last year, and her magic became Leila’s,” Kelly explains, and I nod my head sadly.

Magic empowers the town square. The walls are engraved with mystical symbols that create a shield against the outside world, but now it is on full display. My coven is no longer hiding in the shadows.

“So you haven’t repainted this?” Regan asks, and Kelly laughs.

“An entire town square overnight?” She shakes her head.

“No. We’re just no longer hiding, My King.

Why would we when the true queen has risen?

We’ve just removed the veil that hid us, but we’ve always been here, standing as one.

” She motions around the town square, and I scan the faces of all the women watching us.

“They’re only ensuring their priestess doesn’t need them,” Kelly explains, but I already know that.

Her words feel like a warning for Regan to behave.

Turning my gaze to Kelly’s store, I stare at the emblems and runes again. “Water?”

She nods once, then points to the woman across the street with fiery red hair. “Giselle is a fire witch.” Then she points to the woman outside the bookshop. “That is Mauve, and she is air.” The woman gives her fingers a flick, and a strong gust flips my hair over my shoulders, making me chuckle.

“And Leila is earth,” I say, and Kelly nods.

“Which makes you spirit, just like your ancestors.” She motions to the other stores again.

“And our stores set the directions, North, South, East, and West. This land here is sacred because it’s where Litha died.

We’ve protected it while awaiting your return,” she tells me, and I swallow, wondering what would have happened if I hadn’t.

As Kelly leads me to the back of her shop, I can’t help but glance around.

To the untrained eye, it looks like racks of clothing and an array of trinkets and baubles, but to someone like me, it’s a treasure trove of magical artifacts.

Magic clings to the air like a sweet perfume—ethereal and a little dizzying.

We reach the back of the shop, and a heavy oak door barres our way. She opens it, revealing a narrow staircase leading down into darkness. I raise an eyebrow at her, but she merely smiles, and her eyes twinkle with a secret.

The staircase spirals down into the basement, which is far from what I expected. It’s an apothecary, one not open to the public, and the shelves lining the walls are filled with jars, bottles, herbs, and all sorts of magical ingredients.

The air is thick with an earthy aroma, punctuated with the sharp tang of dried herbs. The scent of magic is potent here, and the sweet musk of sprouting grass and musty old books surround me. It’s like being trapped between two worlds.

Regan, who has been trailing behind me silently, glances around the room with wide eyes.

His hand moves toward a jar filled with swirling silver mist. Just as his fingers brush against the glass, Kelly yanks it out of his reach.

“Don’t touch that unless you want to transform into a salamander,” she warns, her tone severe.

“That’s sylph essence. Pure elemental air energy that can wreak havoc on physical form. ”

Kelly sets the jar back on the shelf and moves over to a small table where a teapot sits.

“Goddess Diana, your ancestor, was sometimes known as the triple goddess due to her connection to three realms: Earth, Sky, and Sea. She is widely linked with Hecate, who is a lunar deity who rules over the night, earth, and the underworld.” She begins to pour hot tea into cups with her back to me.

“Diana was known for her links with wild animals, hunting, and also fertility—all of which are associated with Hecate’s realm.

Diana is said to have embodied moonlight itself, and she is the Moon Goddess, the creator of lycans. ”

I take this all in with a sense of awe as Kelly hands me my teacup with gentle reverence. Steam rises from the cup as I sip the warm drink, listening intently to Kelly’s voice drifting through the room like mist.

“Hecate, on the other hand, is often characterized as a crossroads deity—one that guides travelers through dark roads, both literal and spiritual. It’s believed they were linked from birth; though some would argue they were the same person, and Goddess Diana was just one of Hecate’s crones.

Whether that is true, I guess we’ll know when we cross over.

But what I do know is that their power grew together throughout time until it reached its peak in your family bloodline. ”

Her words weave a story of power, of women who defied the norms and embraced their inner magic. But with power comes conflict, and with conflict comes consequences.

“Your mother cursed King Theron,” Kelly begins, her gaze focused on the tea in her hand. “And in doing so, she breached the Universal Law of Magic. Do What You Will, But Harm None. She didn’t just curse King Theron. She cursed an entire species, pushing the lycans to the brink of extinction.”

My cup stills halfway to my lips. I knew my mother had been powerful, but the depth of her actions still surprises me. “And what of my own curse?” I ask.

Kelly places the teapot down with a defeated sigh.

“Your mother’s actions had far-reaching consequences, Zirah.

It caused a ripple effect. On your birthday, you will come into full power.

However, since you are a hybrid, your lycan side can only be unlocked if the curse on the Lycan King is broken. Otherwise, it will remain dormant.”

“So I won’t become a lycan?”

Kelly shakes her head in response. After all the information Kelly divulged and instructions to mark the three sons of Theron, I can’t help but have more questions.

“And if I don’t mark any of them?” I ask cautiously.

Kelly takes a sip of her tea and sighs heavily.

“They die. You remain a witch,” she says bluntly.

Her words send a chill down my spine. She sets her cup aside and looks me in the eye.

“If you ask me, I would just let them rot and be done with the lycan species,” she says with a laugh.

Regan growls and gives her an angry look, but she doesn’t seem fazed by it.

“But don’t worry, I am not her, Your Highness ,” she sneers.

Remaining a witch doesn’t sound so bad. Until yesterday, I believed that was all I was, so...“What if I only mark one?” I press on, feeling desperate for an alternative solution.

Kelly pauses to think for a moment. “He’ll live, but the other two will die,” she explains slowly.

“You’ll regain some extra powers from marking him, but not enough to become a lycan too.

” She meets my gaze, her expression unreadable as she adds in a quieter voice, “But know that when you make this choice, it is irreversible.”

I take in her words carefully, digesting them in silence for a few minutes while Kelly prepares more tea. A heavy burden now rests upon my shoulders. My decision could very well determine the fate of an entire species.

“And Theron?”

“He will die unless you mark all three. It has to be all three,” Kelly explains.

“So I have to sacrifice at least one, then?” I ask her, and she smiles while Regan silently gapes at me.

“Only those who are worthy of you will be marked by you. There are grave consequences for marking someone unworthy. They’re the sins.

You’re their virtue. Only you can choose if they have earned the right of forgiveness, but if your heart and head don’t match and there is doubt?

” She pauses considering her words carefully.

“We could end up in another round of karma to be dealt, just something to keep in mind.”

The information weighs heavily on me, but I understand the cost of my mother’s actions and the burden that now falls on my shoulders.

As I sip my tea, I think of what James said about the three kings.

It makes me wonder what I’ll find when I visit their kingdoms. This is my destiny—to right the wrongs of the past and carve a new future for the lycans and witches alike.

Or condemn them.

And as always, it begins with a choice—Theron’s sons.