Found the devil's inn

"Caroline, love. Wake up."

I felt a gentle touch on my shoulders. I slowly opened my eyes to see my mom smiling down at me.

"Did it work?" I asked, feeling a little lightheaded as I stood up from the floor.

"You fell into a deep trance and were unconscious for a while," Mom explained.

"The session is over. Your full potential has been restored."

I was gladdened by the news, feeling a new kind of energy stirring inside me.

"I can finally face Serbian and his cohorts."

"Yes. But just because your powers have been harnessed doesn’t mean you should be reckless. Be careful with Serbian.

Mom was still visibly worried.

"I wouldn’t want to face him alone."

"Mom..." I held her shoulders gently. "I’m fine. I’ll save Dad and make sure you’re safe."

Mom nodded reluctantly, folding her arms.

I glanced at my wristwatch. It was already midday.

"I have to go—I’ve exceeded my break time from work."

I kissed Mom on the cheek and dashed out of the room.

---

Gregory Farstone, a powerful and feared Werelord, sat on the balcony of his mansion, enjoying the evening breeze. His son, Kent, stood before him, pleading his case.

"Dad, we have to do something," Kent urged. "I won’t let Serbian hurt Caroline."

Gregory puffed on his cigar, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

"I understand your concerns, Kent, but we can’t rush into this. The Silverfox Pack won’t take kindly to our interference."

Kent’s frustration was palpable.

"That’s just it, Dad—ancient rivalries and grudges. Why should Caroline suffer for something our ancestors started?"

Gregory’s expression turned stern.

"You knew the risks of falling for a Luna wolf from the Silverfox Pack. I warned you months ago."

Kent lowered his eyes but spoke with unwavering resolve.

"I love Caroline with all my heart. I’ll stand by her, no matter the cost."

Gregory studied his son, impressed by his determination.

"You’re as stubborn as ever, Kent. But I admire your conviction. As your father—and as one of the Werelords of our pack—I’ll reach out to Mark, our Alpha, and see what can be done."

Kent’s face lit up.

"Thank you, Father."

Gregory’s voice softened.

"I’m doing this for you, son... and for Caroline. She’s remarkable. I think she might be the one to help heal the rift between our packs."

Kent nodded, moved.

"I think you’re right, Dad. Caroline has a way of bringing people together."

Gregory rose from his seat.

"Now go back to the city, and tell Ben to send me today’s statistics report and sales figures."

Kent nodded and departed, leaving Gregory to ponder the complexities of their world—and the challenges his son was about to face.

---

As the clock struck 9 p.m., I began wrapping up my shift as a cashier at Lorraine & Co. antique shop.

It had been a bustling day. We’d sold loads of old dolls, vintage clothes, sneakers, and home accessories.

The shop was finally closed for the night. Nancy, my coworker, had already gone home, so I was left to tally up the day’s sales alone.

I loved working for my boss, Miss Pennymoor—she was like a grandmother to me. As I was finishing up, she poked her head into the room.

"Once you're done with the report, you can close up shop," she said with a warm smile, clutching her purse.

"My daughter Tina just arrived from the Bahamas, and I need to pick her up."

I looked up from my work, intrigued.

"That’s wonderful, Miss Pennymoor! When did Tina get back?" I asked, stacking the cash into neat piles.

"She arrived this morning and is staying at a hotel," Miss Pennymoor said, smoothing out her skirt. "I’m going to bring her home."

I smiled.

"Okay, ma’am. I’ll lock up once I’m done here. Please give Tina my best regards."

Miss Pennymoor’s eyes twinkled.

"I will, Caroline. Goodnight, dear."

"Goodnight, ma’am," I replied, watching her hurry out the door to reunite with her daughter.

---

My eyes glazed over as I stared at the computer screen and the sales ledger. My mind was miles away.

I picked up my phone and scrolled through the address list, then I stopped.

"Found you," I whispered, staring at the screen.

"Dad," I said, louder this time, "I’m coming. I promised I’d find you—and I will."

Then my voice turned dark.

"And you, Serbian... You’re going to pay. Tonight. You’ll tell me where you’ve hidden him. You’ll answer for what you’ve done."

I let it all out, talking to the empty, dark shop.

I needed to say it—to hear myself say it—to quiet the storm of fear and rage churning inside me.

***

As my old car slowly rolled down the peaceful street, a profound sense of calm washed over me. It was hard to say what caused it—the out-of-this-world silence, the scent of fresh-cut grass from the manicured lawns, or the gentle evening air.

Anyway, I kept staring at the houses, paying attention to details not to miss the exact home of my wicked uncle.

"Yeppie, found you," I muttered, my gaze fixed on a house with a long and uneven terrain.