The truth in the flames

 (Chapter 23:Mira's POV)

 The cottage smelled of dried herbs and burning wood, a comforting yet ancient scent that settled deep in my bones. The old woman sat across from me, her hands folded in her lap, her gaze steady. Lorenzo stood near the door, silent but watchful, his presence a shadow of quiet authority.

 "You knew I would come," I said, my voice breaking the tense silence. "How?"

 She smiled faintly, her eyes filled with something that felt like knowing. "Because your mother was my dearest friend. And because I have been waiting for you for a long time."

 I stiffened. "My mother? You knew her?"

 She nodded. "Not the mother of your past life—the one you still struggle to remember. I mean the woman who gave birth to the weak, human Mira. The girl whose body you now inhabit."

 My breath caught in my throat. I had spent so much time trying to untangle the mystery of my reincarnation, of who I was before, that I had never stopped to consider the woman who had carried this body into the world.

 Lorenzo shifted beside me, but he remained silent.

 The old woman—this white witch—leaned forward. "Your mother was not an ordinary woman. She may have seemed fragile, but she was strong in ways others could not see. She sensed things, knew things that others could not. And she knew, long before you came, that her daughter was never meant to keep her soul."

 I swallowed hard. "You're saying she knew I would… take over her daughter's body?"

 "Not at first," she admitted. "But as time went on, she started to understand. She would come to me, tell me of dreams she didn't understand—visions of a girl she had never met, a warrior surrounded by fire and blood. She feared for her daughter, but she also knew she could not fight fate. The moment the girl named Mira died, she understood what had happened."

 My stomach twisted. "And she just… accepted it?"

 She exhaled softly. "She grieved, of course. But she also loved you. Even though you were not the daughter she had raised, she saw the pieces of her child within you. And she hoped—prayed—that you would be strong enough to survive the dangers that were coming."

 A lump formed in my throat. "She never told me."

 "She couldn't," the old woman said gently. "She was too afraid. She feared what would happen if the wrong people learned what you truly were."

 I squeezed my eyes shut, my chest tight with emotions I didn't know how to name.

 Lorenzo finally spoke, his voice low and controlled. "And Lillian? Did she know?"

 The old woman's face darkened. "Not at first. But she suspected. Your stepmother has always been cunning, always seeking power where she does not belong. When your transformation began, she must have pieced it together."

 A bitter laugh escaped me. "And now she's working with Callidus."

 The old woman nodded. "She is playing a dangerous game. Callidus wants more than just control over you, Mira. He wants what lies dormant inside you—power he believes he can bend to his will."

 A cold shiver ran through me.

 "Then what am I supposed to do?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

 The old woman reached out and took my hand. Her grip was warm, grounding. "You must remember who you are. Not just the girl who was bullied and cast aside. Not just the soul of a fallen Lycan princess. But the person you are now. The one who still has the chance to reclaim her fate."

 I looked at her, my mind spinning.

 I had spent so long feeling like I didn't belong in this body. That I was just a shadow of someone else.

 But maybe… maybe I was something new.

 Lorenzo's hand brushed my shoulder, a silent gesture of reassurance.

 I inhaled deeply, steadying myself.

 "I won't let them take me," I said, my voice stronger this time.

 The old woman's eyes gleamed with approval. "Good. Because they're already looking for you. And this time, they will not stop until they have you."