Twenty

Ziah

In the ancient enchanted woodland, where centuries-old secrets and powers were buried under moss-covered rocks, we gathered for the Lycan rituals, to channel our spirits to our loved ones.

Clad in the ceremonial attire – a white and black striped shirt, loose-flowing pants, and no footwear – we faced the Pack's totem, a silver wolf with eyes glowing red and another smaller one standing proudly at its side.

I stared up with the same blank, uninterested face. This ritual was supposed to bring peace to the living. It seemed like a waste of time to me.

Because the dead can't help the living, nor will they ever come back.

Bored to death, I pretended to connect. Even before my parents' deaths, these rituals held no fascination for me. It was more painful now because why cry over spilled milk?

The chosen priestess and Zeke's best friend, Selena, exploded into a chant, bringing me back to the present.

A vessel of the moon goddess, she carried the symbol of their Goddess in her hands and