Chapter 75
Chapter 75
~~Zirah~~
Finally, the last vision comes and a wave of déjà vu washes over me when I find myself standing in the
city center.
The city center was packed with a frenzied crowd, their faces twisted with hatred and fear as they
watched the Queen Litha— a witch’s high Priestess be dragged to a pillar. They chanted for her death,
and chanted for the end of the bloodshed and war that tainted their kingdom.
As the flames licked up the woods, then her feet. Litha’s eyes remained defiant, her gaze sweeping
over the three kings before settling on King Theron. Her voice, though strained by pain, rang out with
eerie clarity.
“By the flame that consumes me, I curse you all with the seven sins that taint your souls! As I burn, so
shall you burn!”
Her words hung heavy in the air, her power infusing them with an undeniable weight as thunder rolled
across sky as if the end of times was coming. The crowd recoiled, their excitement dampened by the
palpable energy that surrounded Litha as she spoke.
Turning her gaze to King Theron, she smiled, an unsettling sight amidst the flickering firelight. “To break
the curse, you must find the oracle. Kill the oracle, and the seven virtues will be revealed. Only then will
another female Lycan be born.” my mother warned when suddenly her dress caught fire.
Theron laughs. “You think you can curse an entire species, Litha. You’re powerless or you would have
escaped. You’re no witch. No real witch ever burned at the stake.”
Litha laughs at his words, but I find myself almost unable to watch. The scene is horrific as her legs
burned, but she did not stomp her feet or scream. Instead, she lifted her head to the sky and smiled.
“You’re right.”
King Theron huffed with smug satisfaction while the flames grew higher, sweat beaded on my mother’s
face, neck and chest. Her pain could be seen; it is obvious as her breathing was becoming labored and
in her voice when she speaks.
“Witches don’t burn at your stake…. Unless we choose to,” Theron's manic laughter cuts off. Murmurs
break out when the sound of eerie humming charges the air. Then my mother chants.
“In the shadows cast by a fire’s glow, where sinners hide, and virtues grow” Lightning cracks like a whip
across the sky.
“I call upon the fate’s powers to weave my magic in this hour.
Seven sins, born from dark, your immortal souls now bear by my mark!”
The moment she spoke the words, Regan, Lyon, and Zeke scream, dropping to their knees, ripping at
their flesh as if they too were burning by the invisible flames. However, before Litha could finish the
curse, she slumped forward, and screams her anguish trying to again. Regan, Zeke and Lyon stop their
screaming, and everyone looks around when the brewing storm suddenly stops, the night sky clearing.
Murmurs break out, and suddenly a woman in a black cloak steps forward, her arms raised to the
moon, tears streaming down her face.
“In the shadows cast by a fire’s glow, where sinners hide, and virtues grow, I call upon the ancient
powers to weave my magic in this hour.” Her voice rings clearly. No!...No!” my mother screams at the
woman.
“We stand with you,” the woman speaks and my mother shakes her head as she screams when
another woman steps forward out of the crowd and her chant joins her.
Her coven.
“Seven sins, born from dark. Your immortal souls now bear her my mark.”
A third woman comes forward.
“Amidst your vices, she’ll burn brightly. Within the seven virtues, she shall stand, her light shining
throughout the land.”
“No,” Litha chokes out, lifting her head, her face burned, and skin turning to charcoal. Yet the witches
keep stepping forward and end up taking center stage, refusing to let her death be in vain as they
continue to chant.
“A woman of virtue, pure and strong, to right the wrongs and end our priestess’ song. Chosen by fate,
her heart aflame, she’ll be your salvation or your condemnation!” Power singes the air as storm so
brutal rips, through the place, screaming their anger and devastation.
Screaming their vengeance.
The next second, the entire city square erupts in chaos when her coven set themselves on fire, to burn
along with her.
My entire body jolts as I’m ripped out my mother’s past and plunged into a reality where history is about
to repeat itself.
I’m haunted by the memory of my mother's death, her last moments spent burning at the stake. I can
still hear her screams, the screams of her coven, her curses filling the air as the memory fades.
But now I find myself back in the present, trapped by the very curse my mother had set in motion so
long ago. As the flames rise higher, threatening to consume me, I wonder if there is any hope for
escape, or if my fate is sealed just like hers was.
The crowd watches with bated breath, their eyes wide and fearful. Some shout for mercy, while others
call for my death, their voices blending into a cacophony of noise that threatens to drown out my
thoughts. The torches close in on me, their flames just inches away from my skin, and I close my eyes,
bracing myself for the pain.
Suddenly, the sound of a powerful growl echoes through the city center, causing the crowd to gasp and
the guards to falter when Gnash, Hunter and Shadow prowl through the city, forcing the guards to back
up. My eyes scan the crowd to see Malachi, followed by Regan, Zeke, and Lyon—emerging from the
crowd, their eyes burning with fury.
“We won’t let you do this!” Lyon shouts, but Theron’s face remains impassive, his cold eyes locked on
mine as the flames continue to climb higher.
“Father, stop this madness!” Zeke pleads, his voice filled with desperation.
“She’s not Litha! She’s not responsible for the curse!” Regan argues.
“Burn her…” King Theron snarls. I watch, horrified, when I see a guard move toward the pile of wood
with fuel.
“Stop them,” Theron orders when Regan, Zeke, and Lyon attack the guards, trying to get to me, just as
the pile is doused in fuel. Flames explode, and my mates scream as fire licks up my legs, the pain
unbearable, and I scream.
“Stay in position!” I hear Kelly scream, my eyes snapping open as I take in the witches surrounding me.
Only then do I notice their positioning puts me in the center of a pentagram.
My mind tries to figure out what’s going on, yet I can’t think past the pain, fighting or the chaos when
hands grip my face. Zeke is suddenly standing on the pillar beside me. His frantic hands trying to undo
the chains, and all I can do is slump forward against him.Content rights by NôvelDr//ama.Org.
“NO..NO…NO!” Zeke screams.
“You’re burning,” I mumble as he yanks on the chains.
Zeke screams at first, I think in pain, but no, he screams for help when I feel another set of hands grab
me as Regan tries breaking the chains. The pain I no longer feel, I feel nothing, see nothing, but I hear
them. Feel their chants, like an energy. A pulse.
Suddenly, teeth sink into my neck, and Theron screams in fury.
“I won’t let her die!” Regan snarls, and my eyes flutter open to see his lips covered in blood.
“The shadow Mystics weaves magic, strong and true,
As one, we stand together, a coven formed anew,
Beneath the moon's shadow, our sisterhood holds through.”
“Stop them!” Theron snarls at his guards, yet none dare approach the coven that stepped from the
crowds.
“I call upon the timeless force to guide our path and set the course. From the flames, she rises, fierce
and bold.”
Warmth makes my spine tingle, when another set of teeth embed in my flesh. Lyon’s…
“A goddess of virtues, a high priestess witch, born from flames. She’ll be the first and last of her kind.
So beware of the fire within her eyes, seek her mercy, for she alone can tip the scales and take your
lives.”
Then Zeke as he marks me, all three trying to change me, heal me, but what they don’t realize is
they’re poisoning me. I can feel it. My skin suddenly feels cold, despite the flames that burn it. And the
longer I burn, they do. I am as good as dead anyway. But they won’t die with me.
“So embrace her wrath or seek her grace. By the moon’s light, I invoke this sacred rite. Unleash the
balance, truth revealed, in her hands, your fates now sealed.”
Then everything explodes when I use the last rune.
Fire…
And that is when I hear a voice I thought I’d never hear again.
My grandmother’s.
Her voice is clear and like a crack of thunder as it echoes through the night.
“And from the flames, an oracle is born. The last female Lycan. Your true queen.” The coven’s chant
rings loud and clear, but nowhere near as loud as hers. The pain, however, becomes to much as I fade
away like the ashes of my mother, but not before hearing her last words rings out like a prayer.
“A queen of virtues that ring true, but make no mistake, she no longer bows to you.”
Then darkness.