Chapter 44: A Wolf with Magic
**Dorothy’s POV**
That day came without warning, changing my life in ways I never imagined. My mixed bloodline, long dormant, suddenly surged to life Without any warning, I became something I had only read about in old, fearful whispers a wolf that could wield magic.
I didn’t know how to face my grandmother after this transformation. She had always detested the part of me that came from my father. Over the years, she subjected me to countless punishments in an effort to purge the “taint” from my blood. Canings, silver whips, burns, and smuggled holy water became regular tools of her so–called purification rituals.
None of it worked.
The witch’s blood she scorned and called “trash” had finally taken root, growing strong within me. Despite her efforts, the magic within me awakened, undeniable and Irreversible.
Soon, I was taken to the royal palace to meet the Lycan King. The journey felt surreal. I assumed my fate was sealed–I would be executed, a necessary sacrifice to maintain the peace.
Oddly enough, I felt no fear. Death, I thought, would be a release.
When I met the Lycan King, I was caught off guard. He wasn’t the fearsome figure I had seen in official portraits or on the news. His aura was powerful, yes, but his demeanor was kind. His eyes, full of wisdom, showed no hint of disdain.
“Are you going to kill me?” I asked bluntly, not bothering to mince words.
He didn’t flinch. Instead, his voice was warm. “Why would I do that, child? Of course not. You are a werewolf, one of my people, and therefore my responsibility. A King must protect all his people.”
“But I’m not just a werewolf,” I countered, my voice trembling slightly. “I’m a witch, too. If you don’t kill me, I might destroy your land and harm your people.”
He regarded me carefully, his tone calm but firm. “There is no such thing as absolute evil, Dorothy. Being a witch or a werewolf does not define your morality.”
“But witches are dangerous!” I cried out. “They’ve always been the source of werewolves‘ suffering. I carry their blood in me, and because of it, I’m destined to bring ruin to you pack!”
As the words left my mouth, I felt hollow inside. I hated myself for believing them, even as I spoke them aloud.
The King’s expression grew serious, his voice taking on a commanding edge. “Do you truly wish for that to happen? To become the evil you so fear and disappear like a shadow in the night?”
“It doesn’t matter what I wish for!” Tears spilled down my cheeks as anguish overtook me. I’m cursed. If you don’t stop me now, it’s only a matter of time before I destroy everything!”
The Lycan King’s presence grew heavier, and I felt the weight of his authority pressing against me. Yet, his next words cut through the fear.
“No, Dorothy. You won’t. You won’t become the monster you imagine, whether you are a witch or a werewolf.”
I looked up at him, stunned.
He continued, his voice softer now. “I see the pain in your eyes. You suffer because of the conflict within you–your bloodline, your identity. But let me tell you something, child. No one can manipulate your life unless you let them. Whether you are a witch or a wolf does not determine your character. Only *you* decide the kind of person you want to become.”
The morning sunlight streamed through the palace windows, casting a golden glow over the King. In that moment, he didn’t look like a ruler or a warrior but rather a protector, someone who saw the good in even the most broken parts of the world.
1 began to understand why so many revered him.
As if sensing my thoughts, he smiled and placed a gentle hand on my head. “You should meet my niece, Thelma. She’s also studying at Sivir Academy. Perhaps spending some time with her, will help ease your mind. A servant will guide you to her when she’s ready to see visitors.”
With that, the King departed, leaving me with a sense of hope I hadn’t felt in years.
Thelma,
Of course, I knew her. She was my deskmate at school, a lively, beautiful girl whose warmth. radiated wherever she went. Despite her noble upbringing, Thelma treated everyone with kindness, never looking down on others.
I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt.
Unlike most, Thelma didn’t avoid me. She didn’t care that I was quiet and withdrawn, a girl with a reputation for being strange. She would chat with me, sharing stories and snacks, even when I barely responded.
At the time, I thought her friendliness was nothing more than politeness–a gesture of good manners from someone raised in a royal household. But the more I spent time with her, the more I realized how genuine she was. Her sincerity shone through in every word and action, and I hated myself for being unable to reciprocate.
My curse didn’t just isolate me; it silenced me.
The strange magic in my blood made it dangerous to speak freely. My immature divination. powers could bring harm to anyone who came too close. So I stayed quiet, distant, and alone.
“Elland, are you there?” I called out to my wolf, Hoping for guidance.
“Yes, I’m here,” she replied, her voice as calm as ever.
Elland was much like me a quiet, unassuming presence. But unlike me, she always seemed to have clarity.
“I know what you’re worried about,” she said gently. “But instead of overthinking, maybe you should visit Thelma. She might surprise you.”
Encouraged by Elland’s words, I decided to seek her out. I called for a servant and asked if I could see Thelma.
The response hit me like a cold wave.
“I’m very sorry, Miss Dorothy, but Lady Thelma is still unconscious. When she wakes, we will let you know.”
Unconscious? My heart sank.
The rumors about witches‘ magic awakening violently resurfaced in my mind. What if m Jatent powers had somehow affected her? What if my presence had harmed the only person who had ever shown me kindness?
If Thelma didn’t wake up, how would I ever make amends? How could I face the Lycan King, who had shown me mercy and compassion?
I clenched my fists, despair threatening to overwhelm me.
But deep within, Elland’s voice whispered again, steady and unwavering. “Don’t lose hope, Dorothy. Thelma is strong. She’ll wake up, and when she does, you’ll have the chance to set things right. Until then, trust yourself. You are more than the blood that runs through your veins.”
For the first time, I dared to believe she might be right.
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