“I am sorry, Mrs. Bates. I should not have taken it out on you.”

“It’s ok. Ms Diane. It was not your fault.” The woman looks calm as she pours me tea. “And you are right. The Mistress knew your wolf would be poorly. In fact, she never expected you to shift. I’d say you have achieved a magnificent feat by just shifting into a wolf.”

Ah. So the bar is set that low for me. A bitter sigh escapes me.

“So grandma never expected me to shift.”

“No.” Mrs. Bates smiles wryly. “The Mistress herself made it sure when she sealed your power. You should not have been able to shift into a wolf. That alone is a sign of your potential.”

For a minute, I am silent. Mrs. Bates sounds like she has lost her marbles. What power is she talking about? What potential? And for my grandmother to be able to ‘seal’ it, she must be….

I snort, shaking my head. “Mrs. Bates. You are not making sense.”

“I know it’s hard to believe, Ms. Diane. But the truth is often stranger than fantasy. You are born with a heritage that makes you… vulnerable. It was the Mistress’s way to protect you from the evil.”

“What heritage, Mrs. Bates?” I am confused but laugh out loud. “Grandma’s Hollywood legacy can be Olly’s heritage, not mine. I am a born a misfit, an unwanted addition to a long line of blond beauties. The way I was treated all my life is proof enough. And as to protect me, grandma would sooner have handed me over to an orphanage than protecting a weakling like me.”

I seethe, hot tears pooling in my eyes. It’s not just grandma, but everything after her. Adam’s rejection is an open wound that pokes itself each time I think about myself. The sad ache refuses to budge, a sense of betrayal, a disgrace that etches deep in my mind.

Mrs. Bates sighs, her face turning pale. “I guess you are not wrong. The Mistress took it too far sometimes. But given the situation… the danger… she could not let her guard down. She did all she could to stay safe.”

My jaw clenches. “I know you are loyal to grandma, Mrs. Bates, and you want to protect her even in her death, but this is really not the time. Just remember, she is dead and I am alive. I am suffering, supposedly because of something she did as you yourself revealed just now. Please do not presume you have the right to tell me how I should regard her after this.”

She gulps, looking paler than ever. “Fair enough Ms. Diane. Here me out, then you can decide.”

“Oh, spit it out already, Mrs. Bates. You and my grandmother have kept it for long enough. Any longer and I might strangle you right here.”

I am in no position to threaten, yet she shrinks in fear. Her fingers knot in her lap as if bracing herself.

“Your grandmother was a witch. A witch of prodigious skills and powers. She was never a blond beauty. In fact, she was borne with the same colouring as yourself–dark hair with golden skin, with fiery eyes and demeanour. When she was seventeen, something happened, something horrible, that made her leave her home and run for her life. She came to Hollywood, changed her appearance. From Addelyne, she became Adele Winters and hid in plain sight. Her pursuers never guessed, and that alone is a testament to her skill.”

My mouth is agape with shock and disbelief. My grandmother was a powerful witch. Something happened in her youth that made her abscond to the human world. She disguised herself as a blond and worked in Hollywood. No one suspected her because they never expected her to be this daring. It feels like a story of an old Hollywood film grandma might have acted in.

It makes sense in a way it doesn’t. It seems so logical, my brain refuses to accept it.

“She was happy for a while. The disguise worked, and she could live her life as she pleased. But all came to nothing when your werewolf grandfather came into the picture. The Mistress panicked. Going back into the supernatural world was not an option. It would have blown her disguise, put her in unthinkable dangers, and everyone around her would be at risk. So she let him go and kept his child.”

“But how could she reject her mate so easily?” I frown, my irritation flaring. “My grandpa died of heartbreak. How could she be so heartless?”

“It’s unfortunate he died, but you must understand witches are a different species than werewolves.” Mrs. Bates sighs. “Witches are supposed to be heartless. They are not as emotional about their mates as werewolves are. It’s a trait the Moon Goddess bestowed upon them to protect their magic. The core of a witch’s magic lies in her heart and to give anyone else a place in there is catastrophic. Love is a poisonous potion when it comes to a witch. Our history is littered with instances of how a supposed ‘mate’ took advantage of a witch’s vulnerability. The recent example is our late queen, who was murdered by her own mate to gain her power.”

My brain buzzes. Yes, I have read about the Witch Queen, but it was a piece of information that had no connection with me. The world of the supernatural, of which I knew nothing about until a few months ago, still felt alien. To think I have roots here, and that they are spread all over the place is beyond my wildest dreams.

She says ‘our history’, ‘our queen’, as if I too am included in it. In a way, I am. Grandma being a witch makes me one, too.

“So my grandpa died, and it didn’t affect grandma at all?”

“If it did, I did not notice it. As I said, your grandmother was a master of subterfuge.”

In other words, she was a master of deceit and duplicity. My heart aches for my poor grandfather.

“After your mother was born, the Mistress changed the baby’s appearance to keep in line with her new look. Luckily Ms. Selene was much less powerful and when the Mistress tried to change her dark colouring, she complied easily. It was only when you and Ms. Olivia were born that the Mistress felt threatened.”

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“Why would she be threatened by us if she were such a pro?”

“Oh, not by Ms. Olivia.” Mrs. Bates scoffs. “She was a werewolf through and through and the mistress had no trouble changing her appearance permanently. But you…you resisted it. Even as a newborn, a mere baby of a few minutes, you refused to obey her orders.”

She chews her lips, her eyes turning a shade darker as she looks at me. I see fear in them. And respect.

“I was there that day in the operating theatre. The Mistress was scared, angry. You refused to give in to the hex that would have changed your appearance. Your hair and eyes remained dark, and skin refused to take the rosy pale hue she tried to paint you in. She tried and tried and failed. And then there was your scent. An overwhelmingly potent scent that announced your arrival to the entire world. It was a travesty. An unfair ending to everything the Mistress had worked so far.”

I am amused at the way Mrs. Bates defends grandma even as she sits in front of me. It just shows how one person’s loyalty can be another person’s betrayal, but then Mrs. Bates has no reason to be loyal to me.

“And so she proceeded to damage my heart.” I remark dryly.

“You must understand we were running low on time. The operating room staff were under Mistress’s spell, so didn’t know any better, but she needed to hurry. Her pursuers could still be on her scent. She had hidden it, but you, as a baby, could not. It was a powerful scent, unlike any other. The entire hospital reeked of it, and miles of periphery around it were full of it. Anyone could have gotten a whiff, and it would have blown everything she worked for.”

I am glad I defied her as a mere baby. But the way I was punished for it, makes me feel sick.

“When nothing else worked, she tried a spell she should not have on a baby. She was angry and frustrated and the fear channelled itself through her spell. It came out harsher than she intended. It quelled your smell, your power, and, in the process, also damaged your heart. It sealed your powers but also left you weakened for life. When the hospital staff came to their senses, you were unconscious. They thought you were born with a congenital decease.”

And what followed was an unending tale of suffering. I was always in and out of emergency wards, first as a baby, then as a child. Grandma made sure everyone knew what a pain I was. Maybe she was just living her character as Adele Winters, to further her disguise, to ward off any suspicion. How clever.

“So you see? The Mistress did whatever she could to protect herself and her family. And a threat as big as you needed to be subdued. That is why I said it was a feat for you to shift into a wolf. And the way I see it, it’s good that you turned out to be a sickly wolf. That’s even better to throw off any suspicions.”

My hart aches as tears of raw hurt well in my eyes. Mrs. Bates looks ashamed, yet her gaze never falters. I do not know anymore if I love or hate this woman. Maybe I should just go back to how we were before.

But I am still trying to fit in the pieces of the puzzle. The math is not mathing here. Why send us to the werewolves if she wanted us to stay hidden? Were we not better off away from the supernatural if it was so dangerous?

“If she wanted to protect us, why did she send us to Silver Shadows in the first place?” I ask Mrs. Bates. She immediately looks offended.

“Because the Mistress was dying. She kept you hid until she was alive, but nothing could ensure your safety once she was dead. The world she knew would not leave you in peace. She knew it was only a matter of time before they found you. She wanted you to be prepared for it. To at least know how it would be before you were confronted with it. Look at Ms. Olivia. She turned into her powerful wolf and found her home. You should have stayed with Silver Shadows. They would have protected you.”

I laugh a hysterical laugh. Grandma thought the Silver Shadows pack will protect us. The plan was perfect but she never factored in the most important thing - fate. She never knew the way it will twist to regurgitate me out of the pack. The plan certainly worked for Olly, considering she was grandma’s favourite. Maybe it didn't work for me because it wasn’t a part of the plan, anyway.

All Adele Winters did her entire life was to protect herself from a world she wanted no part of. And when confronted with her own death, she concocted this plan of sending us back to the same world, hoping it will somehow miraculously prepare us to face whatever she was running away from.

She used a mate whom she rejected. Even now she was trying to use a legacy she wanted no part of.

“And how do you fit into this equation?” I ask, my brain now resorting to mindless wandering. Everything feels so unreal, so... convoluted. My head reels even as my feeble heart beats its placid beat. I wish it could stop. The poor thing must know when to stop suffering.

“Tell me, Mrs. Bates." I exhale a weary breath. "The wolves scented a witch at the crash site. Olly is not a witch, and my scent was suppressed by grandma. So who did they smell?”

“It was the Mistress’s aura.” Mrs. Bate’s eyes sparkle with unbridled admiration. “She worked from her grave to make sure you reached the Silver Shadows. But unfortunately could not control her scent the way she did when she was alive. It lingered on, and that’s what unfortunately alerted her pursuers.”

“Are you saying grandma was there at the crash site that night?” I frown in astonishment.

“Not in her body, but in her soul.”

“In her soul?”

“Yes. Through me. A witch as powerful as her can possess a lesser witch or a Wretch. I was her servant for nearly all my life. She used me from time to time when her current disguise did not suffice her needs. And being a Wretch, I was only grateful to serve her whichever way I could.”

“And what is a... Wretch?”

“A wretch is a witch born with no magic. Like an omega for werewolves. I am not a witch, Ms. Diane. I am a Wretch. Years ago, when I left Selgurathian to make my life in the human world, your grandmother gave me shelter. She took me in, savign me from a life of a homeless hooker. She also used my body from time to time whenever she needed a disguise beyond her own. The last time she possessed me was when we started from LA. It was with her help that we reached there safely.”

So grandma used Mrs Bates’s body. Or rather, her soul used Mrs. Bate’s body to deliver us to Silver Forest. The scent that everyone got was her essence, her aura. It was a manifest of the power that she wielded when she was alive.

Would I have been that powerful had she not tampered with my heart? I guess I'll never know.

“You disappeared from the crash site.” I suddenly remember. “They looked for you for months but found no clue. Was it grandma that brought you here, to the safety of this place? Is the man I heard before…is he also a Wretch possessed by my grandmother?”

“Now hold on, young lady.” A deep voice rumbles in teh room, cutting me off. My head snaps to the door, which is ajar, revealing a smiling man in his early thirties. His sandy brown hair is tied back in a sleek ponytail revealing his high forehead. His intelligent dark eyes crinkle with good-natured laughter.

He is handsome in a way that doesn't make your heart flutter but brings a smile to your face. His aura oozes power but there is an assurance to it.

“Hold your horses, Ms. Diane Winters. It’s one thing to call me a Wretch, but entirely another to think I could be so powerless as to let a dead witch control me. I would never be controlled by Adele Winters, not even in my worst dreams.”

He strides in, his dark robes bellowing behind him with each purposeful step. The air shifts as a sweet aroma seeps into it.

Mrs. Bates stands up, looking relieved. “Master. So happy to see you here. I was wondering where you were.”

He nods to her, without taking his silver eyes off me. “And as to rescuing Betsy from the crash site, let me assure you it was entirely my work, with no additional help. It was years that I had gotten a scent of my friend Addelyne and I just had to come to get her out.”

***** *****