Chapter 3

AIYANA

The warmth in my chest that uncontrollable fire dancing inside me, was still there, as if the ancestral flame had taken root in my body. But what once felt like a privilege now only brought agony.

With every step I took, I could feel the eyes of the pack weighing down on me cold, harsh, relentless. The disdain on their faces cut deeper than any words. They saw me as an intruder, a threat. Not one of them. And if that wasn’t enough, I had to face Isabela’s hatred and the rejection in Maxim’s gaze.

Isabela approached with a venomous smile on her lips, her eyes gleaming with latent hatred. I could almost feel the tension pulsing in the air.

"You really think you can just be the 'chosen one,' Aiyana?" she said, her voice low and sharp, as if each syllable was meant to wound. "Your mother was a witch, and now you think the flame chose you by chance? Don’t believe that lie. I know what you are. I know you did something to alter the result."

"W-what? I didn’t..."

My throat tightened at the accusation. My hands trembled slightly, but I squeezed Alyssa’s hand harder, seeking a bit of security. I already felt the weight of my mother’s legacy, but hearing that from Isabela... it was like a blade driven deep. I remembered so little about my mother.

"I didn’t choose this!" My voice came out raspier than I expected, but I held it steady, trying to keep the rising anger under control. "I’m not my mother."

Isabela gave a sarcastic little laugh, crossing her arms with a look of contempt. Alyssa squeezed my hand even tighter, as if to pass courage to me through her touch.

"Oh, sure. Like it’s that simple. You’re not your mother, but you’re the same. A witch." She took a step closer, her voice lower now—almost a whisper, but poisonous. "And now you’re going to try to steal what’s mine, like your mother stole your father? She took him from my mother."

Isabela’s words hit me like a punch to the stomach. I barely had any memories of my mother, but she had always been the source of the pain I carried. And now Isabela was twisting it into some bitter lie, trying to make it seem like I was stealing something I never wanted.

My grandmother appeared at my side like a storm in the shape of a woman. She stood firm, unyielding. She looked at Isabela with a fury I rarely saw in her.

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH, ISABELA!" My grandmother’s voice thundered through the heavy air between us. She placed a firm hand on my shoulder, shielding me, and then, with eyes like knives, locked her gaze on Isabela. "Don’t you dare speak those words to your cousin. Don’t you dare! You don’t know what you’re saying, and if you continue, you’ll regret every syllable."

"Enough, Isa." Maxim. He was tense, fists clenched at his sides, his face overtaken by a rage burning in his eyes. I could see the pain in him, but it wasn’t directed at me. He was furious, with himself. And with me. "I don’t need this. I don’t need you, Aiyana. I… I love Isabela, and I’m going to stay with her. I’m not ignoring my feelings because of some stupid flame."

I couldn’t help it. My heart clenched, and a lump formed in my throat. He... he hated me? Before, he didn’t even know I existed, and now he saw me as the source of all his suffering. The scorn in his eyes was like a knife driven into my chest.

The air was thick with tension, and everyone around seemed to be waiting for the outcome. Scott Blackwood, Maxim’s father, stepped forward with a posture full of rigid authority. When he spoke, his voice rang out like a verdict.

"The flame never chooses wrong, Maxim." He looked at his son with calculated coldness, as if he cared more about the family’s honor than any feelings. "Everyone must respect the power of the ancestors. It chose Aiyana. There’s nothing more to discuss."

Maxim didn’t respond right away, but his eyes overflowed with contempt as he looked at me. He took a step back, distancing himself from everything that came with the choice.

"The flame may have chosen, but I didn’t. I won’t let this control me." He was defiant, his voice tight with anger, as if his last shred of resistance was breaking with each word.

Scott sighed, resigned, as if he had expected this reaction. He looked at Maxim, then at me, and his voice fell like a decree.

"The decision will be reviewed when Aiyana turns twenty-one. Until then, we wait."

Those words "we wait" fell over me like a curse. It wasn’t just a matter of time; it felt like my life, my fate, had been put on hold. Wait for what? I didn’t want any of this either.

The feeling of being seen as an intruder, someone who didn’t belong, intensified. My eyes met Alyssa’s. She smiled softly at me, as if to say everything would be okay. And with that, a small wave of relief washed over me, though the weight of rejection still pressed on my shoulders.

But then, I looked at Maxim one more time. The hatred was still there, in his eyes, and it was like something inside me shattered. I couldn’t take it anymore. Not the stares, not the words, not the unbearable pain rising in my chest.

I looked at my grandmother, felt the warmth of her hand on my shoulder, but the pain inside me remained, sinking like a heavy anchor. It was as if the weight of the world had settled on my shoulders, and every look, every word, was a reminder that I didn’t belong. I didn’t know what to do with that.

I whispered, more to myself than to anyone else:

"I’m going to the forest..."

And then, without looking back, I started to run. I didn’t know exactly where I was going, but I felt that if I stayed, I would collapse. Isabela’s voice, Maxim’s rage, the pack’s stares... all of it was crushing me, and I couldn’t take it anymore.

I ran without direction, my thoughts jumbled, my heart heavy. I needed space, air, something to ease the pressure. But more than anything, I needed to get away from all of them. If I stayed there, in front of them, I would drown. So I ran without looking back.