I slowed my pace as I noticed a giant brown grizzly bear sprawled on the path several yards in front of me. Anxiety radiated off it in waves, smacking into me full-force.
I was an empath. One of the powers I possessed was feeling others’ emotions as if they were my own—supernatural, human, plant, or animal. It was partly why I was so content with being on my own. I didn’t have to deal with the draining emotions of other beings unless I wanted to.
The bear was on its side, breathing laboriously. I could hear my heart thudding in my ears as I rounded it. It was a female bear, and she let out a warning growl.
I paused, sucking in a breath, and pulled energy from around us. The air went static as I used my magic to communicate with her.
“Can I help you?” I asked, my voice soft so I wouldn’t frighten her more than she already was. I sensed panic, dread, pain, and anxiety, but no murderous intent.
She let out a strangled cry before resting her head against the ground. My cubs. They are in a cave to the east of the river. There was a wolf that I drove away, but he bit me. He wasn’t a regular wolf. Please, protect them.
My brows bumped together as I shook my head. “You will protect them, mama bear. Can I heal your wound?”
She hesitated but rolled over once she realized she had no choice but to trust me, exposing the deep wound on her side.
My blood turned to ice as I gawked at it. Her brown fur had been ripped away, along with a massive chunk of flesh. I would have to use a lot of power to heal her. I wasn’t sure how she was still alive, but I knew no regular wolf around these parts could cause that kind of damage.
It had to be a werewolf, and if that were the case—none of us were safe here. I glanced around the area and sensed nothing.
We seemed to be alone for now.
“It’ll be okay. I’ll work fast.” I pressed my hands over her wound, seeping into the warm, sticky flesh. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the magical energy from my core into her injury, and a golden hue emanated from my hands as I focused on healing her.
Healing was a gift not all witches had, and I had kept it a secret from the coven, just as my grandma and parents told me to. They had me hide many of my affinities from the coven for fear that they would extort my powers, something child-me never understood.
I grew up thinking of the coven as a family and thought my parents and grandma were over-cautious. Until the coven proved them right when a pack of werewolves killed my parents in the most gruesome way imaginable, and they did nothing to avenge them. Even worse, when Grandma tried to leave and go after the werewolves responsible, the coven elders killed her.
They stole her life essence and banished me in front of the entire coven as a warning; Don’t challenge the elders. Their actions were incomprehensible and utterly unforgivable.
It was soul-crushing. I trusted those corrupt witches with my life, and they betrayed me in the worst way possible. I learned the hard way I couldn’t trust anyone; the people I could trust were dead and gone.
Being on my own wasn’t terrible. I was free to use my gifts how I wanted without hiding them. I could be my authentic self among the creatures of the forest.
A few moments passed, and the bear’s skin was intact again. My hands smoothed over her bare skin. My magic reached its limit, so I wasn't able to regenerate her fur.
She climbed to her feet and wiggled around. Thank you, Witch of the Forest. If I can repay this debt to you, I will be around these parts. All you need to do is call for me.
I smiled. “Go protect your cubs. Be well.”
She nodded and took off to the east at a sprint.
I stretched out my limbs and winced from the soreness of my muscles. I hadn’t done a healing spell like that in a long time. Tapping out magical energy was the equivalent of tapping out physical energy but with a higher price.
I had to recharge quickly to put up another ward tonight. I ran a hand through my silky black hair and sighed. Having a werewolf around these parts made my skin crawl. They were atrocities. I squeezed my eyes shut, and the vision of my mutilated parents flashed in my mind. I’d been the one to find them, and the demonic auras of the werewolves that killed them lingered.
I’d never been able to scrub the memory from my brain.
My eyes shot open. I had to double-up the ward as soon as possible.
As I hastened up the path to my cottage, the tree spirits sent warning omens my way, but with my magic depleted, I couldn’t explicitly communicate with them to ask what was wrong. Still, their message was clear.
Something wasn’t right.
My breath caught in my lungs as goosebumps pebbled on my arms before I swung open the door to my cottage. Everything seemed to be in place. A tiny wood stove in the corner beside a small wooden chair and a circular table. A twin mattress laid in the middle of the room. I didn’t bother with a bathroom because I lived off the land, and there was a river roughly half a mile away for me to gather water and bathe. I’d also built an outhouse of sorts outside. Life was plain, simple, and at times it was hard—but quaint and comfortable too.
I stepped inside and pushed the door shut
