Page 23

The farther they walked, the quieter the village became. The voices of the pack faded into nothing but the whispering wind and the rhythmic crunch of their footsteps against the worn dirt path.

The forest loomed ahead, its towering redwood trees stretching toward the sky, their branches swaying as if whispering secrets to one another. The scent of moss, damp earth, and something ancient curled around her senses, making her skin prickle.

And then, she saw it.

The Oracle's cottage.

Unlike the harsh, skeletal hut of the Crone from her old village, this home looked alive.

Nestled at the very border of the forest, the small, rustic cottage was weathered but strong, its wooden walls partially overgrown with ivy and moss. The stone chimney was speckled with lichen, the slanted roof covered in a thin layer of damp leaves and creeping vines.

A winding stone path led up to the door, flanked by clusters of wild lavender, overgrown ferns, and small pots of herbs. It was wild yet deliberate, untamed yet welcoming.

But Seren's stomach twisted at the sight hanging near the door.

Rabbit carcasses.

Their bodies were limp, strung up by their hind legs, their fur matted with dried blood, hanging from the rafters.

Seren swallowed hard, her throat tightening .

She had been a vegetarian for as long as she could remember, and the sight made something deep inside her revolt. Eating an animal that could speak to her was like eating a friend.

She could already feel them.

The animals in the bordering forest, the unseen eyes watching her from the trees. The rustling of unseen creatures was more than just wind, their presence brushing against her senses like ghostly fingertips.

The animals were whispering.

Not in many words, but in a way she could understand.

She was about to step forward when—

A shadow moved.

Seren's gaze snapped up just in time to see a barn owl perched on the edge of the roof, its large, round eyes glinting in the dimming light.

Then—it swooped down.

Silent as death, it snatched up one of the hanging carcasses in its talons and vanished into the sky, wings cutting through the air like a blade.

Seren exhaled shakily.

Before she could move, the door creaked open.

The Oracle

The woman standing in the doorway was nothing like the Crone she had known .

She was plump, wrapped in a thick knitted cardigan, her silver-streaked hair tied up in a neat bun. Rosy-cheeked, round-faced, with soft wrinkles and warm eyes that missed nothing.

The tightness in Seren's chest seemed to unfurl.

Something about her felt familiar, comforting—like an old story she had forgotten until now.

The Oracle's gaze landed on her first.

"I've been expecting you," she said simply, her voice soft but knowing.

Then her sharp gaze flicked to Hagan.

"Young wolf," she greeted, but there was no warmth in her voice.

Hagan's shoulders stiffened slightly, but he said nothing.

Draken exhaled sharply. "We've come for your guidance."

The Oracle gave him a long, unreadable look, then finally sighed. "Come in, then."

Seren hesitated only for a moment before stepping inside.

The inside of the cottage was small but filled with life.

Jars lined the wooden shelves, filled with dried herbs, powders, and strange substances she didn't recognize. A fireplace crackled in the far corner, its warmth settling deep into the bones of the room. The scent of cedarwood and chamomile drifted through the air.

"Welcome to my home, Seren."

The Oracle had prepared a meal that was both comforting and surprising.

The centrepiece was a Dutch stamppot—a hearty mash of potatoes blended seamlessly with wilted kale.

Instead of the customary smoked sausage accompaniment, she had thoughtfully replaced it with savoury, pan-fried mushrooms, their earthy flavour complementing the dish perfectly.

Alongside the stamppot, there was a platter of vegetarian kibbeling. Usually made with battered and fried cod, this version utilized cauliflower florets, lightly coated and fried to a golden crisp, served with a dipping sauce.

To accompany the meal, the Oracle offered slices of dense, dark Frisian rye bread, paired with a selection of local cheeses.

For dessert, there were thin waffles filled with a sweet, sticky syrup.

The Alpha family exchanged glances, a mixture of surprise and curiosity evident in their expressions. Accustomed to meat-centric meals, this spread was unfamiliar territory. Hagan's nose wrinkled in barely concealed distaste; the absence of meat was, to him, both confusing and unappealing .

Seren, however, felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. The Oracle had not only acknowledged her dietary preferences but had also crafted a meal that bridged her world with theirs. It was a small gesture, but in this unfamiliar place, it felt profoundly significant .

"Please, sit and eat," the Oracle invited, her tone warm yet leaving little room for refusal .

As they settled around the table, the contrast in their reactions was palpable.

Seren took a tentative bite, the flavours offering comfort.

The Alpha family approached the meal with a mix of hesitation and politeness, their palates unaccustomed to such fare.

Hagan's fork prodded at the food, his displeasure evident, but under the Oracle's watchful eye, he remained silent .

The meal progressed with subdued conversation, the unusual circumstances casting a quiet over the group. Yet, amidst the clinking of cutlery and the soft murmur of the forest outside Seren finally felt her first flicker of welcome in a foreign land.

After the meal, the alpha family were getting ready to take their leave. The oracle cast a thoughtful glance at Seren.

"I want you to consider this your home," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "Come anytime."

Seren's breath hitched.

She hadn't realized how much she had needed to hear those words.

Her eyes burned, and before she could stop it, the weight of everything settled over her shoulders.

A single, silent tear slipped down her cheek.

The Oracle's expression softened. Without hesitation, she reached forward and pulled Seren into a hug—warm, steady, grounding.

And then—

She whispered something into Seren's ear.

A secret .

A message meant only for her.

Seren’s tight shoulders relaxed slightly, her fingers clutching the Oracle's cardigan as another tear slipped down her cheek.

The wolves could smell the salt in the air.

The scent of her tears.

Hagan's voice cut through it like a blade.

"See, Dad?" he muttered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Weak."

The Oracle pulled away slowly, but as she turned to Hagan—

Her expression sharpened.

And the look she gave him—

It was like a knife.

Hagan's mouth snapped shut.

A little later, Seren stood at the doorway, her fingers curled into the fabric of the Oracle's cardigan, reluctant to let go.

The older woman smelled of lavender and herbs, a scent that wrapped around her like safety itself. It had been too long since anyone had held her like this—without expectation, without judgment. Just warmth. Just understanding.

Letting go felt like stepping off the edge of something solid.

Still, she forced herself to let go, her movements slow and heavy. The Oracle gave her a knowing look, like she already understood what Seren wasn't saying out loud.

The Alpha family stood waiting at the door .

Draken looked impatient, his arms crossed over his chest, his golden eyes sharp. Astrid, at his side, seemingly eager to go home.

And Hagan—

Hagan was expressionless like he had already left.

Draken let out a sharp breath. "Come. It's time to go."

Seren stiffened, her stomach twisting.

Her feet wouldn't move.

She didn't want to go.

Not back to that longhouse. Not into the suffocating weight of expectation. Not into Hagan's presence, where she could feel nothing but his resentment clawing at her mind.

The Oracle was still watching her.

And in that moment, something in her expression changed.

A decision was made.

The older woman straightened, turning to Draken with an air of quiet authority. "She's not leaving."

Draken's head snapped toward her. "What?"

"She's going to stay here," the Oracle repeated, her voice calm but absolute. "Until she finds her footing."

Seren held her breath.

Astrid immediately shook her head. "That's not what we discussed— "

"She is tired. Overwhelmed. You want her to learn our ways?" The Oracle's sharp gaze cut through them like a blade. "Then let her do it without being thrown into the deep end."

Draken's jaw tightened, but he hesitated.

Astrid's frown deepened. "We intended for her to stay at the main house, to be near Hagan—"

Hagan was silent throughout, but Seren didn't need to hear his words to know what he was thinking.

She already could.

Please let her stay here.

Not because he wanted what was best for her.

But because he didn't want her close.

That realization settled deep and cold in her chest. This was nothing like what she expected.

For the first time, Seren looked at him fully.

His fists were clenched at his sides, his expression unreadable, but there was no mistaking the relief beneath the surface.

He didn't want her here.

And that—

That hurt.

Draken exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose, clearly weighing the options.

The Oracle gave him a patient look, like she already knew he was going to give in.

Finally, after a long, tense silence, he muttered, "Fine. For now. "

Astrid opened her mouth to protest, but Draken's sigh cut her off.

After a long moment, he relented. "Fine. For now."

Astrid exhaled softly, then stepped forward.

Seren could hear the thoughts between them.

What will I do with him?

Should have told him sooner

Why does he not listen?

Before Seren could react, the Lunara pulled her into a brief, warm hug—unexpected but welcome.

When she pulled back, she pressed a package wrapped in shiny paper into Seren's hands.

"For you. A welcome home gift," she said simply.

Seren blinked, looking down. Her fingers trembled slightly as she unwrapped the package.

Inside was a Nikon D850, sleek and powerful.

The feel of it in her hands was amazing.

Her breath hitched.

She looked up at Astrid, speechless.

"I know about your love for photography," Astrid said, her voice warm, almost conspiratorial. "There is a teacher in school who is also interested. He would like to teach you...if you like. "

Something inside Seren unfurled, something small but hopeful. She nodded enthusiastically, like the child she was.

She ran her fingers over the camera, anticipating the familiar escape it would give her.

For the first time since she had arrived, she felt a spark of excitement.

Hagan was the first to turn and leave.

Seren didn't watch him go.

She was still staring at the Oracle, her face lighting up with a bright smile.

"Come," the older woman said gently, leading her back inside.