CHAPTER 4: SECRETS UNRAVELING.

 

MIA’S P.O.V

“Unbelievable!” I mutter as I stomp up the stairs, my fists clenched and jaw tight.

How can she just kick that man out like he was nothing? Like he wasn’t even worth a conversation. Since when does she do that? Since when is she this… dismissive? Cold? Rude? That's not the mother I know.

The mother I know is kind, warm, always willing to help anyone who needs it. People in town respect her for that. They come to her for advice, for healing teas, and for help with whatever nonsense they get themselves into. She's the person everyone turns to.

And she helps. Always.

And yet, she just sent that man away like he was poison.

Why?!

I slam my door shut and begin to pace my room. At this point, I'm too agitated to sit, too restless to do anything except replay everything that just happened.

Mom was scared. Not visibly, but I know her. I saw it in the stiffness of her shoulders, in the way she kept cutting him off, trying to end the conversation before it even started. Like she didn't want me to know what they were talking about.

And then there’s him. The man. The werewolf.

Because that’s what he is. I don’t have to be involved in the supernatural world to recognize one when I see one. The way he moved, the energy around him; it was clear as day.

But why would a werewolf be looking for my mother? Why would he call her a sorceress? I mean, I've known her all my life. She's just a normal woman who plays around with herbs, runes, and the occasional protection charm. She definitely isn't a sorceress material.

Right?

“Oh…” I groan as I rub my hands down my face. My mind is spiraling in a hundred different directions. Yet the one thing I keep circling back to is this: my mother is hiding something.

Something she doesn't want me to know.

I hear the front door click shut and I know he's gone. The man, whoever he is, is gone, and now it’s just me and my mother.

Good.

“Time for answers.”

***

I shove my door open and storm downstairs, my frustration fueling every step. I find her in the kitchen, standing at the counter with a hand pressed to her forehead. From the way her back rises and falls in deep, slow breaths, I can tell she’s shaken. That much is clear. But the moment she hears me, she straightens, smoothing her face into something calm and unreadable.

Like hell I'll fall for that.

“Who was that?” I demand, crossing my arms over my chest.

She exhales through her nose. “No one.”

“No one?” I scoff. “You don’t treat ‘no one’ like they’re a walking plague. Who is he?”

She turns to the sink, rinsing her hands as if the conversation is already over. “It’s none of your concern, Mia.”

“None of my concern?” I repeat, my voice rising. “He came to our house looking for you. He called you a sorceress. And you just threw him out without a second thought. What the hell is going on?”

She grips the counter, knuckles white. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, I do.”

The silence after that is deafening.

I take a step closer, my pulse hammering in my ears.

“You’re hiding something from me. What is it, mom?”

She closes her eyes for a beat, then turns to face me, her expression carefully blank. “I’m protecting you.”

That stops me short.

What?

“Protecting me from what?” I press, but only silence follows.

Then, her words come out, low yet soft. “You just have to trust me.”

Just like that?

I hear someone call my mother a sorceress, a wolf comes into my home, and I’m just supposed to let it go?

Like hell I will.

“That’s not how trust works, Mom. You don’t get to act all secretive and expect me to just accept it.”

Her jaw tightens. “I have done everything to give you a safe, normal life, Mia. Don’t question that now.”

“A normal life?” I shake my head. “What part of today has been normal? Because I just ran into a werewolf who apparently knows you, and I have no idea why. I thought you grew up here. Why would a wolf know you if you grew up here all your life?”

“I said drop it, Mia.”

Her voice is razor-sharp, harsher than I have ever heard it before. It cuts through me like ice, leaving a sting in its wake.

Anger bubbles up within me, hot and consuming. I don’t even know what I’m angry at anymore—her secrecy, her refusal to tell me the truth, or the way she’s treating me like a child. But I know I can’t stay here. Not right now. Not when I feel like I’m going to explode.

Or worse, say something mean.

“I can’t stand this,” I snap. “I can’t stand you right now.”

Her face flickers with something; hurt, regret, maybe even fear, but I don’t give myself time to analyze it. I grab my coat and head for the door.

“Mia,” she calls. “Don’t you dare walk out that door.”

I don’t look back.

“I’ll come back when you are ready to actually talk to me,” I say tightly, slamming the door behind me.

***

It’s cold outside, but it barely registers as my mind races, replaying everything over and over again. My mother is hiding something—something big. And I have no idea what it is.

I don’t know how long I walk, only that my feet eventually lead me to a small, tucked-away bar at the edge of town. It’s the kind of place you don’t find unless you know exactly where to look.

I push open the door, ready to drown my frustration in something strong, when I see him.

The man from earlier.

He’s sitting at the bar, a glass in his hand, looking just as irritated as I feel. Of all the bars in town, he chooses this one.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

He turns at my words and his gaze locks into mine, and I swear I see a flicker of surprise. We stare at each other for a long moment before I let out a dry laugh.

“You again?”

He exhales, shaking his head. “We have to stop calling each other ‘you.’” He lifts his glass slightly. “I’m Eli. And you?”

I hesitate for half a second before stepping closer.

“Mia.”

He nods. “Well, Mia, would you like a drink?”

I glance at his glass, then back at him. His frustration is an exact reflection of mine. Maybe I can get some answers out of him. Or maybe I just need a distraction. Either way, I slide onto the stool beside him and smirk.

“Sure. Why not?”