MIA POV
Bryn exuded an air of solitude, often keeping to herself. She possessed a remarkable sense of organization and unyielding motivation to achieve her goals. As I struggled not being able to connect with Inara, a sense of aimlessness washed over me. Bryn attributed it to a spell she had cast, blocking my ability to shift. I felt utterly useless in this moment, longing to contribute but constantly drifting off.

Nevertheless, I managed to assist Bryn in collecting all the necessary ingredients for the spell. The palace, fortunately, boasted a well-stocked room, equipped with everything a witch would require for casting spells and brewing potions. I never knew that Lycans harbored witches among them.
Breaking the spell would take a few days, Bryn informed me, and once reversed, I would need to be restrained to prevent me from fleeing. Strangely, the process would intensify the current spell, fueling my desire to seek out the caster. Bryn explained that the entire ordeal could last up to a day, subjecting me to the same excruciating pain I had endured when Atlas tried to stop me until the spell was shattered. Her primary concern revolved around Atlas during the spell, no one could touch me as it might disrupt the process. Given that he was my mate, his Lycan nature would undoubtedly compel him to aid me, necessitating our separation. Already, his absence weighed heavily on me, leaving me feeling empty. The prospect of being kept apart from him upon his return was equally painful, even though I comprehended the reasoning behind it. Throughout my life, I had endured immense pain on my own, but the thought of facing it again without him filled me with fear.
As Bryn remained busy preparing everything, I spent a good amount of time outside, relishing the peacefulness that enveloped the surroundings. However, amidst the tranquility, occasional rogue creatures could be heard, their desperate attempts to break through Bryn's protective barrier.
Regarding Thora and Alpha Artemis Bryn was convinced that they wouldn't make any immediate moves to capture me. Thora would be confident in her spell's ability to lure me to them. A part of me yearned to confront them head-on, to showcase my unwavering confidence in my own abilities. But the involvement of an immortal witch complicated matters. I questioned whether it was even possible to kill one, but I was determined to find a way.
Throughout my life, I had always been occupied, constantly engaged in various tasks. Being confined within the palace walls, waiting for the inevitable clash, was a new experience for me. Restlessness consumed me, and I found myself going stir crazy. I roamed the grounds for hours, becoming intimately familiar with every plant and flower that adorned the landscape.
Eventually, I decided to return inside and continue exploring the palace's rooms. It was during this exploration that I stumbled upon a room untouched by time. The air was heavy with the scent of dust, and cobwebs shrouded the windows, as if this room had been intentionally forgotten. Curiosity compelled me to remove the dusty sheers, revealing old furniture and photographs that lay hidden beneath.

As I gazed at the aged photographs, my breath caught in my throat. The woman in the pictures was unmistakably my great, great, great grandmother Sara, a white wolf. She had vanished mysteriously shortly after giving birth to her pup. The circumstances surrounding her disappearance were shrouded in uncertainty, as she had never found her chosen mate, only entering into an arranged marriage. No one had ever located her, and her death was only known through the powerful energy that emanated from her, felt by the other special wolves. Those were different times, when a small pack of royal white wolves existed, and our powers weren't sought after as fervently. It seemed that this very palace was the place she went before vanishing from our world.
As I continued my search through the room, my eyes scanning every corner for answers, I stumbled upon a collection of diaries nestled in the desk. Sitting down on the bed, I opened one of them, the gentle rustle of pages filling the quiet room. Transported back in time, I immersed myself in the elegant and descriptive writing that painted vivid pictures of her past.
The inked words spoke of a dark arrangement forced upon her by her father - a pact to unite her with the Alpha's son from another pack. Her father, desperate to save their suffering pack, traded her off in exchange for crucial resources. But it wasn't a mere marriage it was about birthing a child, a white wolf, to preserve their bloodline. The diary detailed the cruelty inflicted upon her by her chosen mate, and the heart-wrenching moment when she had to abandon her precious pup, vowing to return and rescue her one day.
Amidst the struggles of survival among rogues, she encountered a Lycan who saved her from the brink of death. This Lycan, her destined mate, defied her expectations. The diary spoke of his kindness and how he provided her with this sanctuary, a room within the palace. He was not just any Lycan but a warrior of high rank, fiercely loyal to the kingdom.

As I delved deeper into the pages, the writing took a different tone. She revealed the arrival of a new witch in the palace, tasked with assisting the Lycans in their fertility issues. This witch proposed using the white wolf, Sara, for her experiments and research. Initially, Sara agreed, grateful for the kindness she had received. However, the diary chronicled her growing suspicion towards the witch's true motives.
She documented feeling sick and drained, her energy dissipating. Memories of her days became fragmented, and her connection with her wolf waned at times.
She wrote about how she brought up these issues with her mate, but he felt pressured by the King to continue. So, he asked Sara to help just a little longer. She had such faith and trust in her mate that she accepted. But as time went on, she only felt weaker and weaker, yet no real progress was being made in fertility issues.
She then wrote about how, one night, she got up from her bed to find her mate. He was usually in bed with her at that time, but he was not in the room. So, she went out of the room to find him. She sensed him a few rooms down and went to the door to hear several lycans and the witch having a conversation. She heard them talking about how the royal white wolves held a special power, one that could make the Lycans even stronger. And if there was a way to transfer it to many, she was sure the female would also no longer have issues carrying a pup.
Sara wrote how she went back to her room fast and got dressed to run away since she knew her life was at risk. The entries then ended for several days and then started back up with her talking about how her mate caught her trying to escape. So, they confined her to that room with a guard. Her mate became cold and distant, and she worried he was under the influence of some spell casted by the witch.
She detailed multiple tests and experiments done to her, and how she felt like she was dying. She claimed the witch took her to some sort of hidden room filled with ancient power. There were relics that belonged to the original white wolves, and it was clear that the witch was up to something incredibly sinister. The entries started to become hard to read. Her writing in some parts was illegible and showed she was suffering.
The last few entries talked about how she knew she was dying. She learned that the witch did find a way to steal her power, but in doing so, it also drained her of her life. Whatever was taken from her ended up being useless to the witch. Her last entry said she fears for our kind. The witch discovered the final piece to her puzzle, for it is the last remaining royal white wolf that she needs. Since the wolf must carry the power of her ancestors.
Sara trusted her mate yet he allowed her to be used, leaving a sickening feeling in my gut. This betrayal allowed the witch and the Lycans to mercilessly end Sara's life, all in the pursuit of more power. I couldn't bear to dwell on it any longer, so I set the diary down and surveyed the room.
Thora, was the immortal witch in Sara's diaries. It became evident that she had been relentlessly hunting my kind for a considerable period of time. I was determined to uncover the truth about her intentions. Whatever her motives may be, they must be significant for her to invest such immense time and effort. Perhaps, the hidden room would hold the answers I sought.
I cautiously explored the room, my hands reaching out to knock on the walls and floors in a desperate attempt to find the concealed space. Finally, my persistence paid off as I discovered a floorboard beneath a dusty rug that moved, revealing a hidden staircase. With a small lantern in hand, I ignited the flame and descended into the secret passageway.
The staircase seemed to stretch endlessly, leading me to a spacious room. I raised the lantern, casting its flickering light upon several others hanging from the walls, illuminating the space. The room exuded a palpable negative energy, hinting at its use for dark magic and the cruel experiments conducted on Sara.
Scattered papers, written in an incomprehensible language, littered the floor. Jars filled with mysterious objects and herbs lined the shelves. Curiosity led me to a table adorned with straps, and as I placed my hand upon it, a strange sensation washed over me. In an instant, the haunting sound of someone screaming invaded my mind, causing me to crumble to the ground. It was as if Sara's agonizing screams were being relieved within the depths of my own consciousness.
Four items were meticulously arranged on a polished wooden table in the room. As my eyes fixed upon them, an inexplicable connection seemed to form between us. Stepping closer, I could feel a strange, alluring energy emanating from the objects, as if they were beckoning me. Gently grazing my hand over one of them, a rush of power surged through me, distinct from the oppressive aura that permeated the room. It was a power akin to my own, and as I touched the items, Inara, stirred awake within me.
"The original royal wolves' power," Inara whispered in my mind.
Perplexed, I inquired, "What do you mean?"
"The four original white wolves possessed a might greater than any other. When they passed, instead of letting their power disperse, it was sealed within these relics, hidden away. It was a measure taken to safeguard our kind, for their untamed strength could be dangerous in the wrong hands. Much like you, these four white wolves were relentlessly hunted," Inara explained.
"So Thora must have discovered this hidden power. But what was her plan?" I pondered aloud.
"The power can only be embraced by another wolf like us. Yet, it is an overwhelming force, one that I'm uncertain we can control," Inara cautioned.
Frustration weighed heavy upon me as the throbbing ache in my head resurfaced, intensifying the urgency to unravel Thora's intentions.
Suppressing the overwhelming urge to flee, I braced myself against the searing pain. I couldn't bear the thought of Inara being silenced again, so I endured the agony. Thora had left the relics in this very room, suggesting that she had deliberately led me here. It dawned on me that she, the one who had sealed this palace, had cunningly ensnared us. Panic surged within me as I realized the urgency to warn Bryn and unravel Thora's intentions. Taking hesitant steps forward, my body suddenly grew lightheaded, disorienting me. Inara's voice echoed in my mind, her desperation evident, "Mia, we must escape this room. It refuses to release us." Overwhelmed, I collapsed to the ground, attempting to cry out for Bryn, but my voice was feeble and frail. Desperation consumed me as I fought to stay conscious. "Atlas, please, I'm in danger. Find me," I implored through our connection, but there was only silence. Though awake, my body felt as if it were encased in lead, immobilizing me completely. The room seemed alive, its grip tight like that of a prison. I had to discover a means of escape.