Free Web NovelChapter 718: The Mother’s Reach
Chapter 717: The Mother’s Reach
Selith picked up the hair as she observed it. Yes, she said to herself, it was still in perfect condition, just like she had suspected.
She looked up at Victoria then.
"The girl is in our hold," Selith said. "We must not let her escape."
Victoria was quiet. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
"Perhaps you will be able to assist me," Selith continued. "You are the one who knows her best. And besides, this is tied to you."
Victoria beamed at that. Selith spoke the truth. It did not matter that her daughter was now in the North with that pathetic pack. She knew her daughter best. She knew how to control her.
She nodded.
"That is true. I know her best," she said confidently.
"A little word from me, and Sophia would go crawling, hiding beneath a shade like she always did when she was young."
Selith did not say anything to that. Her face remained still, her blackened lips pressed together, her milky eyes unreadable. But something stirred in the back of her mind. A thought she did not voice.
She knew Victoria could control the girl, but what if the girl wasn’t the same as before? What if she wasn’t that easy to control anymore?
But she said nothing, for even if she did not like Victoria personally, she trusted her words.
Victoria always made sure to achieve what she aimed to achieve, even at the cost of others.
Selith moved with purpose now.
"I will do something to help you communicate with the girl," she said. "We must not let her escape our hold."
She crouched on the floor and began to draw. The chalk moved in her crooked fingers, tracing lines that curved and connected, forming patterns that Victoria did not recognize but felt in her bones. The air grew heavier as Selith worked, the shadows in the corners of the room seeming to lean closer.
Selith chanted as she drew. The words were low and guttural, like they were not meant for ears such as theirs to hear. They curled through the air as if wrapping around the circle as it took shape beneath her hands.
When the circle was complete, she straightened and turned to Victoria.
"Take this," she said, holding out the hair. "Hold it with both hands."
Victoria nodded.
She took the hair from Selith’s outstretched fingers, holding it between her palms. It was just hair—dark, thin, unremarkable. But it was all they needed.
"Close your eyes," Selith said. "Follow the connection and you will be able to speak with her."
Victoria obeyed, closing her eyes.
She stood in the center of the circle, the hair pressed between her palms, her breathing slow and even. Selith began to murmur again, low and steady, the words weaving through the air.
Then she picked up a vial filled with red liquid that could only be blood and poured it onto the floor. The liquid spread slowly, seeping into the chalk lines, staining them dark.
Victoria’s wolf growled immediately.
The sound was low and deep, vibrating through her chest, but Victoria did not open her eyes. She felt the growl more than she heard it—a warning from somewhere deep inside her.
Then she heard it.
A soft sound. Distant at first, like an echo from somewhere far away. Then closer. A humming in her veins, a pull in her chest, a thread connecting her to something she had not felt in years.
She did not speak out loud. Selith could not hear her. This was all in her head.
"Sophia dear," she said.
---
Meanwhile, back at the Nightshade Pack, at the shrine, Sophia stood in the circle Madam Tyler had drawn. Her eyes were closed. Her breathing was slow.
Madam Tyler continued her chanting, low and steady, her voice blending with the soft crackle of the candles.
Then Sophia heard it.
A voice that sounded sickly sweet, as if dripping with honey. The kind of voice that young Sophia would have been glad to hear. The kind of voice that would have made her run to her owner’s arms, desperate for affection that never truly came.
But Sophia was not young anymore.
She was not the child who sought affection from a mother who failed to give her.
Neoma growled low in her chest, a warning.
Sophia did not respond out loud. This was all in her head.
"Mother dear," she said in the same sickly sweet voice.
There was a pause at that, and Sophia wondered if perhaps her mother was shocked by her reply. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓
But perhaps not, because her mother spoke again.
"I see you are doing well," she said.
Sophia did not reply.
There was silence, and then her mother spoke again.
"What do you think you are doing?"
Still, Sophia did not reply.
"Have you lost your tongue, child?" Victoria asked.
Sophia was quiet for a moment. Then she spoke again.
"I have not."
"Then why are you not answering me?" Victoria asked her.
Sophia ignored the question.
"How are you able to communicate with me?" she asked instead.
Victoria’s voice shifted. It took on a sob—a wet, cracking sound that might have fooled someone else.
"I missed you so much," she said. "I had to go to someone for help. Someone who could let me know if you were alive and well."
She paused, her voice trembling.
"Given that I birthed you, they told me this method would work. That I could reach you this way."
Sophia’s lips tilted up at that, and even Neoma scoffed.
Sophia knew deep down that it was a lie. Her mother had never missed her. Her mother had never wanted her. Her mother had wanted only what she could give—the visions, the power, the gift that should have been Victoria’s.
But she did not say that.
"Did... did you miss me?" Victoria asked her.
"I missed you, Mum," Sophia said.
The words tasted like ash in her mouth.
Victoria was quiet for a moment. Then she asked, softly, almost gently:
"Where are you, Sophia dear?"
