Miriam Wandersong Novels & Stories

“Don’t worry my child. This won’t take long?” Vance stood behind me with his hand on my shoulder. “This is Miriam, the elder witch for our pack. She has collaborated with my family forever. Her line of descendants protects our pack in many ways. She is like family to me.” I smiled through chewing my food. I covered my mouth as I tried to swallow and said, “Nice to meet you, Miriam. Are you sure we can’t help you to anything?” “No, that’s okay, my child.” She placed her small purse on the table and took out a small lancet to conduct the finger-prick. But before proceeding, she asked a few questions.

Until she said the one thing I couldn’t forgive: “She must be contained.” I stepped forward, voice cold. “She is not a weapon.” “She’s not a girl anymore.” “She’s mine.” Elira stared. Then, quietly: “Then maybe it’s time you choose who you’re loyal to.” 8. Mira’s Name That night, the Grove burned. Not in fire. In truth. Mira stood at the Spiral’s heart. Her hands lifted to the seed chamber above. Her voice stronger than ever before called out a single name:

It was both stunning and magical to sit there and see the bonfire down below. The Jarl treated her tenderly, calling her his darling again in Norse and then Miriam when he wanted her to see the sunset. In some ways, she wanted to be Mia, if only because her lady mother had used that name. Mimi was banished to a dark corner of her memory, though she knew Eggsor would continue to trade with the east.

Then Rowan knelt before their daughter. “You are known by many names—child, wolf, dreamer, Moonborn. Tonight, we name you protector of the flame. Not as a weapon, but as a guardian; not as a sacrifice, but as hope. Do you accept this, not because you must, but because you will?” Her answer was quiet, but it carried: “I do. I will keep the flame alive. For all of us.” Mira marked her brow with moonroot oil. Lysa draped a necklace of wolf teeth and silver over her neck—past and future bound together. Danica and Varek placed their hands on her shoulders, speaking blessings older than the first war.

“Every part of i⁠t.” My legs gave out. I sat down⁠ hard in the chair. “You k‌new.” I loo‍ked up a‍t​ her. “​Yo‍u knew the origin⁠al Lun​a.” Mir⁠iam was quiet‌ for a long moment. Then she sat across⁠ f⁠rom me. “I’m​ two hundred and⁠ seven years old,” she sai‌d. “Wo​lf long⁠evity. I was her app​rentice.‍ S‍he taugh​t me‍ healing magic.”

I, too, couldn't comprehend the idea of them suffering from water deprivation, at least until Luna Miriam concluded her efforts and restored normalcy to the land. Nicholas turned to Miriam, encouraging her to address the gathering as the spotlight shifted to her. Stepping forward, Miriam cleared her throat and began, "I will concoct a healing potion that each of you can take. It will purge the poison from your systems." A hush fell over the assembly, her presence commanded respect. Her eloquence and unflinching demeanor gave her an air of a warrior princess. "I'll also work on cleansing the water of the poison it carries, but until then, I implore you all not to venture near the streams, let

Pandora Being named after the one woman who unleashed the darkness and evil beings into our world just simply opening a box has never been easy, especially when I need to meet new people. They hesitate to talk to me and even look at me or towards me. I've heard rumors that I'm a witch's hybrid with a wolf, that I was cursed when I was born, and even that I was cursed because I tried to seduce the mate of a powerful witch, but none of this is true, and it also makes no sense, I never crossed the boundaries of the lands of the pack. But even if these unfounded rumors amuse me, after all, we realize how far people's imagination scans, I have my responsibilities, such as: doing my homework, afte

She's also Seraphina 's mother. “Oh you found a mate,” Miriam said, her voice sharp. “ And her name is Everly.” The sound of Everly's name on Miriam’s tongue sent a flicker of anger through me, but I kept my face neutral. “Yes?” “She is... a rogue,” Jonas began delicately. “We understand if you claim she is your mate, but her arrival has stirred unease among some of the pack.” “Unease?” I echoed, my voice dangerously low.

Her voice was quiet, but it carried through every corner of the healing wing. “You named me wolfless.” No one moved. “You named me curse-carrier.” Her wrist mark burned open like an unblinking eye. “But before this trial names me anything else, hear what I name myself.” Darius watched her, still and proud in a way he did not speak aloud. Mira looked at Cassia’s silver eyes, then at the lower door, then directly at Maera. “I am Mira Vale. I was emptied before my first shift. I am not here to steal Luna silver. I am here as witness to the wolf stolen from me.”

White fire crawled under his skin, veins lighting like cracks in ice. You feel it, the voice purred. Kade sucked in a breath. He had not summoned it. He had sworn he would not. “I didn’t call you,” he said, teeth clenched. No, the Winter Wraith replied, silk and knives. She did. Kade’s jaw tightened. “She awakened. That was inevitable.” Not like this. Amusement rippled through the darkness. The mother bound me with blood and will. The daughter bleeds memory. Do you know what that means, little prince?