The New Family

"Anna, how often do you tumble down the stairs in a day? About 10 or 12 times?" Adam teased the girl with a grin. The more time I spent with Adam, the more it seemed like he enjoyed teasing people, and considering his sister's attitude, it might just run in the family.

At the new voice, Anna abruptly got up and shot Adam an irritated look.

Maybe they aren't as friendly as they seem?

"What do you want, Wolfie?" she asked. Her look suggested she was ready to tease Adam mercilessly, but before she could say more, her focus shifted to me.

Her brown eyes shone brightly as if speaking a language known only to a chosen few. In that moment, we shared an unspoken understanding as her gaze scanned me from head to toe.

I felt completely exposed, like a book with all its pages laid bare before her keen eyes, which moved with almost mystical precision. It was as if she knew me on a deeper level, understanding me completely.

The flicker of realization sparked in her eyes, and a subtle smile played on her lips. It was as if she knew me on a deeper level, understanding me completely. In our short but meaningful exchange, we recognized our common essence, connected by the old magic that runs through our souls.

It seemed like she was trying to read my thoughts, to determine if I was a threat. Witches can usually sense when they're in the presence of someone like themselves and often times we can perceive an indication of emotions that the person in front of us has. This is especially helpful while meeting new people. You could say we have a radar to recognize one another.

"You're not a werewolf. Nice to meet you," she smiled at me but gave Adam another disapproving glance.

My first impression was that she seemed like a nice, quiet person. Maybe I judged her unfairly because I have a bias against people who wear glasses. Also, her appearance seemed to say "nice, quiet girl," and her long, curly brown hair only reinforced that impression.

I wonder how her glasses didn't break when she fell down the stairs. That must have been a rough fall.

"Likewise."

"Adam, you still haven't told me why you're here. How does the future Alpha manage to enter our coven without even knocking?" Anna stood up, dusting off her blue jeans and flowered blouse.

"Well, Francis is a witch looking for a new coven. He helped me get home, so I'm trying to return the favour. Is Lysandra home? I need to speak with her," Adam replied, his smile wavering under the constant teasing. It seemed like he was struggling to control his frustration.

This is new. An irritated Adam, or maybe even an angry one. Wow.

"Yes, she's home. Come, she's in her office," Anna led the way further into the mansion, checking to ensure we followed. As we trailed after her, a sense of antiquity and enchantment enveloped me. The entire property exuded a rustic charm, adorned with rich wood textures and an abundance of vibrant, green plants cascading along the corridors and walls. The fusion of nature and architecture created a sanctuary that felt both timeless and alive.

Sunlight streamed through the oversized windows, casting a warm orange hue that bathed the mansion in a soothing glow. The play of light and shadow created a captivating dance, revealing the intricate details of the wooden furniture and columns. Each piece, masterfully engraved with magical runes and symbols, radiated a powerful energy-welcoming, yet with an unmistakable warning.

The magical etchings seemed to pulse with life, their presence weaving through the air like an invisible current. As I walked through the corridors, the enchanting decorations whispered tales of an ancient power that resonated within the very foundation of the mansion. It was a place where the earthly and the mystical came together, creating an ambiance that both beckoned guests and warned them of the mystical forces at play.

The air carried the faint scent of aged wood, blending seamlessly with the natural aroma of the lush greenery that adorned every corner. The mansion felt like a living being, breathing and resonating with the essence of magic. Every step revealed a new facet of its charm, a testament to the timeless elegance and power that lay within its walls.

I'll definitely need to inquire about these symbols and their meanings later. Seeing such symbols, especially in a witch's house, typically serves a magical purpose.

Just seconds later I found myself in front of the entrance to the office, flanked by towering double doors of solid oak. The colossal wood, aged and weathered, bore intricate carvings that hinted at the ancient magic hidden within. Vibrant greens adorned the edges, hiding additional runes and engravings beneath their green veneer.

The sheer weight of the doors was palpable, an unspoken testament to the centuries they had stood guard. Their surface bore the marks of countless stories, a textured tapestry that echoed with the whispers of past enchantments. I couldn't help but marvel at the craftsmanship, a fusion of nature's grace and mystical artistry.

At the centre, a majestic lynx, its regal face carved in exquisite detail, commanded attention. The creature's eyes seemed to hold a wisdom that transcended time, and its presence radiated a quiet power. The Lynx, a guardian spirit eternally embedded in the heart of the door, served as both protector and gatekeeper to what lay beyond.

As I approached the doors, I could feel the latent energy vibrating through the wood, as if the very fibres were charged with ancient secrets. When I reached out to touch the textured surface, a faint hum echoed beneath my fingertips. The doors, though inviting, exuded an air of formidable strength, a challenge to those seeking passage.

The heaviness of the doors loomed over me, suggesting that I alone would not be able to open it with sheer strength.

Anna knocked on the door, and after a moment, a strong female voice called out, "Come in!". At the command of the voice the eyes of the Lynx emitted a light that dissipated within a second. As if the wood didn't weight a ton the doors opened themselves elegantly, flying open as if a soft breeze was enough to move those giants.

As we entered the office, we saw a woman reading a book on a couch. She rose abruptly and locked eyes with me in shock. She had long, jet-black hair, deep blue eyes, and a mole under her left eye. She wore a necklace with a large green stone emitting a powerful energy. Her modern red dress didn't quite fit the Victorian style of the room.

"This can't be?" she mumbled, seemingly baffled by my presence.

The seconds she stared at me, motionless, felt like hours until she returned to reality and addressed the other two in the room.

"Lysandra, this is Francis. He's interested in joining our coven. He also helped this fool of a wolf to get back home, yet again," Anna said, her voice carrying a tone of constant teasing. It appeared she needed to insult Adam with every comment she made to keep herself from bursting or something.

Lysandra began to smile, and her eyes reflected relief, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

"Oh, really? Well, Francis, let's talk over a cup of tea. Would you be so kind, Anna, and prepare some for us?" she said, approaching me with grace. Knowing she was a high-ranking witch in the coven with immense power, her presence felt imposing.

I suppose that means I can stay? At least for the talk. What if they decide I can't join? Where would I go then? Back to Adam and his horny brother? No thanks.

Lysandra took my hand and guided me to a table in the centre of her office. I sat down in one of the chairs, and Lysandra took the seat across from me. She didn't speak for quite a while, just scrutinizing my face. It started to get on my nerves. It was as though she was witnessing a miracle. I felt like an animal in a zoo.

Is there something on my face? Why is she looking at me like that?

"So, Francis, if you want to join our coven, you must share your story. Don't attempt to deceive me, because I'll know. Trust me," Lysandra said after her intense scrutiny. Just looking at her and making eye contact with that sly calculating and serious gaze made it clear that she wasn't lying. She would know if I lied within the moment the lie would come out of my mouth. If I had any chance of being part of this coven, they needed to know about my past. It was better to tell her everything.

I hesitated, looking at Lysandra with a mixture of fear and determination. My troubled past loomed over us, demanding acknowledgement. I took a deep breath and decided it was time to tell my story, to reveal the events that made me who I am.

I told her the painful truth and recounted the moments that defined my life. My upbringing and the murder of my parents were probably the most important parts. The story changed to when I found out that I was a Spirit Guardian. This was a big deal because it meant that I had a special destiny that involved balancing the supernatural and normal worlds. It put a big target on my back and on the coven, I would be joining.

I waited, feeling vulnerable, but hoping that my honest story would make her trust me.

"Have you revealed everything to me, Francis? It's essential that I know everything," Lysandra said with a stern face. It took nearly two hours and three cups of tea to divulge everything I'd experienced.

"Yes," I replied.

"Good. I'll consider your application to join our coven," she said, taking a sip of the tea Anna had prepared. She looked at her watch and offered me a smile.

"It's quite late, and you must be exhausted. You probably haven't had proper rest since your escape. Anna, show Francis to his room for the night." I was greeted by a smiling Anna waiting by the door.

Had she been standing at the door the entire time I was talking to Lysandra?

Anna led me up the same stairs she had fallen down, and after navigating a few more corridors, she opened a door.

"This is your room for tonight. Sleep well," she said, with a small smile.

I entered the room and thanked her. But just before she closed the door, she added:

"Don't worry, I think we'll have a new member in our coven soon." She winked and shut the door.

As I was left alone, I was finally able to look at my new sleeping place. It wasn't just a room; it was like a cozy apartment amidst the extensive mansion. The charming and rustic feel of the hallways flowed into this space, providing a warm and welcoming atmosphere.

The walls, with their rich wooden textures, told stories of tradition and craftsmanship. The air carried the natural scent of aged timber, highlighting the room's connection to nature. Every corner had lively green plants with leaves stretching out.

A huge bed was in the centre of the room. It could fit three people comfortably. The sheets had complex designs, indicating careful attention to detail.

A gentle glow came from the lamps, casting a soft light that created shadows on the walls. The combination of light and shadow made the room feel comfortable and enigmatic.

I admired the way natural materials and skilled workmanship blended seamlessly.

It's certainly a change from my usual accommodations.

I took a shower and changed into the clothes they'd given me. I lay down on the bed and hugged the oversized pillow beside me like a koala.

Finally, the bed gently welcomed me, offering a brief break from the constant pursuit of vampires that tormented my days. The initial serenity of the silent room soothed my tired self. However, I couldn't avoid the haunting memories and thoughts that grasped the corners of my mind, even in stillness.

During those peaceful moments, a thick fog of overwhelming depression, regret, and deep sorrow overwhelmed me. I recalled that fateful night, the night I discovered my parents brutally murdered and the remnants of my once-thriving coven obliterated. The scene plays over and over in my head, each moment filled with pain and sadness.

I feel so alone as I face the reality of my situation. I could try to join another coven and rebuild what I've lost, but I know deep down that a part of me died that night. It wasn't only about discovering a new group of people. It was about mourning the irreplaceable love and intimacy that had defined my home.

As I rested in the room's silent space, I couldn't escape the truth that a chapter of my life had closed, leaving behind an unfillable void. The possibility of a fresh start seemed intimidating, overshadowed by the haunting echoes of what once was. The bed, which used to be my shelter, became a vessel for my loneliness, a space where the silence amplified the pain of loss and the uncertainty of the road ahead. At that time, the bed's comfort wasn't sufficient, as it could only give me a bit of comfort amidst the deep grief that had joined me along the way.

After some time, it happened: I couldn't hold back the tears, and my eyes began to hurt. I cried myself to sleep, thinking about my parents' deaths and the stark reality that I was entirely alone.