Molia clapped enthusiastically, cheering for you loudly as you came back down to the ground.

“That was….” You shook your head, still in a state of shock but also out of breath from the amount of concentration you had just used. “That felt like flying.”

Air wasn’t supposed to be that strong - strong enough to hold you in the air - but the things Molia had taught you over the past few days… it seemed like nothing was impossible. This was a territory you never thought to explore before. Your own imagination had been limited to mere shape manipulation. Molia was showing you so much more. She showed you how to pull water out of the plants around you. She taught you how to concentrate fire in your hands, like gloves. She helped you find the life source of the plants, using it to heal your own minor scrapes and bruises that you earned in your practices without having to go the vigorous steps taught by Soomi. 

Soomi. 

Guilt churned in your heart. You hadn’t thought about her since your first day with Molia. You disappeared without a word to her. She must have been worrying herself to death. You wondered if she was sleeping or eating properly. Her sensitive nature hadn’t been factored in when you took off through that window. You hadn’t thought about several things in that moment. 

“Was is it?” Molia asked, concerned. Your thoughts must have down casted your face, a one-eighty from the excitement only moments before. 

“I was just thinking about Soomi,” you confessed. “I left without telling her so she must be losing her mind right now.”

Instead of sympathy, Molia scoffed. “You shouldn’t focus on how she feels. I doubt you’ve ever been given the same courtesy.”

“Soomi has always looked after me!” you argued. Throughout your time here, Molia had thrown comments like that about the mothers and the coven. Mostly, you’d ignored them, knowing you’d thought the same things over your years with them. But with Soomi… you still felt protective over her. She was different from the others, different towards you. “She’s like my big sister.”

“Oh, yes,” Molia nodded, acid flicking off her tongue with each word, “I’m sure she’s always been the one next you when everyone else was against you. It’s just a ploy to make you compliant. Trust me. They did the same to me.”

“That’s all you’ve been saying this whole time!” You could feel your hands heating up, as they usually did whenever your emotions started teetering over the edge. For the most part you could control it, but the concerns of the mothers still echoed in your head, founded or not. 

How dare she judge Soomi without knowing her? All this witch ever did was give cryptic hints about her past, but when you asked for more details, she’d change the subject or act like the words had never left your mouth in the first place. You were thankful for what she’d taught you, but you needed to know more if you were going to stay. The constant riddles and guessing games were driving you insane.

But Molia didn’t fight back. She lowered her gaze, her voice no louder than the wind. “I’m trying to spare you the details of my story. It may not be the way you heard it, but it still is not a happy one.”

“But I want to understand you, Molia,” you pleaded. Inside, you were still fighting between the person in front of you and the thing that had haunted your visions. They didn’t go together. They didn’t feel like two sides of the same coin; they didn’t even feel like the same country’s currency. 

Yes, it was true that there was always fear in the unknown, but you couldn’t think of Molia – who was showing you parts of yourself that had been locked away for far too long – in a negative light. And yes, she was a vampire, but saying that all vampires were evil would make you no better than the ones who called you bad for your powers. Every group had both sides, so why should her kind be any different?

Visibly swallowing, Molia turned from you, looking out into the clearing with no real subject to focus on. Her eyes glossed over as her mind rewound to a time that most of the world had forgotten. 

“You think she’s your friend,” Molia whispered. It was almost quiet enough to hide the breaking in her voice. Almost. “But all she is doing is keeping you in line.”

You couldn’t believe that. You refused to. “No. Soomi’s not like that.”

Molia whipped her head, her eyes shining a murderous red. “How do you know? Can you read her thoughts? She’s been reporting your every move to the mothers since she was first assigned to watch over you. They did the same with me.” She closed her eyes and grimaced with a ghostly pain. “I thought I could trust Tatia. She’d been my best friend for as long as I could remember. But as we grew older… I don’t know what happened, really. One day, we were out in the fields, practicing our magic. She also had a strong connection with water so we tended to play near the river.”

As if she were projecting the images into your own mind, you saw her past happening before your eyes. The two innocent witches who knew each other so well. 

Their laughter chanted in your ears as they ran through the fields of tall grass, brushing against their arms and tickling their elbows. The water in the river was clear and flowed along at a gentle current. It was a scene that was so familiar, like a moment from a period movie. 

Splashing each other with the water, they giggled and ran around, careful not to trip over their long dresses as they played.

“That’s not fair!” the girl you didn’t recognize – who could only be Tatia – complained. Molia had sent an orb of water straight for her friend that was bigger than the former could manage. Her dark hair was soaked, clinging to her pretty face. 

“Little did I know that Tatia had harvested a jealousy,” Molia narrated. Just as her words broke through your mind, the scene shifted.

The sky darkened up above and the girls went from laughing in the sun to lying down in the dying grass, smiles absent from their faces. 

“Tatia never told me, but the other witches were fearful of my growing powers. And they’d asked her to start letting them know about what I was doing at all times. A wish she granted all too willingly.”

The field dissolved to a house made entirely of wood. Lighting was low, only the soft glow of candles gave you enough to see by. Molia was standing in front of a door that was partially cracked open. Through the open space, Tatia was leaning down to someone who could only be an elder, given their age and dress. She was whispering unintelligibly in the elder’s ear. A stern and decided expression was on the older woman’s face. When Tatia exited the room, she barely made eye contact with Molia before she hurried down the hall. 

“My closest friend in the world was no longer by my side. I was all alone. But not for long.”

Complete darkness took over the scene. The air grew cold. As the moon drifted out from behind the clouds, the mouth of a cave came into view. Two people stood close together, their body language giving off the feeling of a dance between predator and prey. 

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The man chuckled at Molia’s hiss. His eyes shined red in the night, giving away his true nature immediately. “But aren’t you the one who came to me?”

Molia turned her head downwards. “I had nowhere else to go. I don’t know what they’re planning, but I can feel them turning against me.”

The malicious nature of the vampire smoothed into one of sympathy. His shoulders dropped and he lifted Molia’s chin gently with his index finger so he could meet her eyes. “You do not owe them anything, sweet child. Come with me where they cannot touch you.”

Shaking her head, Molia pulled away. “I can’t. They’re my coven. Perhaps if I talked to them-”

“What good would that do? Do you truly think their jealousy will let them hear you?”

“I have to try.”

Screams erupted behind you and suddenly it was daylight again, in the town square. Two men held Molia captive with ropes tightly bound around her. 

“Mother, please!” Molia begged as she fell to her knees. The area was crowded with onlookers who kept their distance, children hiding behind their parents’ legs, but too curious to run away.

The elder from before stood a few feet in front of Molia, chanting as she read aloud from a book. A binding spell. The pleas that rang through the air fell on deaf ears.

Looking around desperately, Molia found the one person who had been her friend. “Tatia, help me! Please! Make them see reason! Make them stop! It was an accident! I swear!”

But she did no such thing. She didn’t even have the decency to walk away with a drop of remorse. She kept standing there, staring at Molia with a blank, unashamed expression. 

Then, the wind picked up. Lightning flashed from the sky that had been clear and blue just moments before. Several struck the thatched roofs of the houses surrounding the square, creating fires that quickly went out of control. The ropes that were wrapped around Molia burst into flames. Just before they could be burned, the men let go and jumped back. But they didn’t run away. 

Shivers ran over their bodies. Deep growls rumbled in their chests. Then the beasts burst forth. 

Strips of cloth that used to be shirts and pants flew through the air as the wolves landed on their paws. Over and over, they tried to get at Molia, who kept them at bay with her fists of fire. The witches, too, tried to close in around her, but lightning strikes stopped them each time they took a step. 

“This is exactly why the binding spell must take place!” the elder yelled over the wind. “It cannot be controlled!”

“I can control it!” Molia screamed back. 

The elder scanned the area as if pointing out the fires and mayhem that had been unleashed upon the village. People were screaming, running around to not get burned or to try and save what was left of their homes. 

Molia fell to her knees, her fire – both literally and figuratively – dying out. But still, a defiance shined in her eyes as she stared at the elder. “You will not have me,” she declared. Holding up her hand, she drew water out from the well nearby and willed it to freeze in the shape of a dagger. “But some day, I will have you.” 

Before she could be stopped, she plunged the dagger into her stomach. Water and blood mixed into the dirt as she fell down to her side. 

“NO!” 

You leapt forward as the vision dissolved away. Only Molia’s grip on your hand kept you from falling face first into the grass. 

“Its okay,” Molia comforted you, rubbing her cold hand up and down your back. “They buried me, but I’d ingested the vampire’s blood beforehand. I awoke the next night and started my immortal life.”

“How?” you asked breathlessly. “How could they do that to you?”

“Power does that to people.” Helping you down to your knees that were shaking violently, Molia adjusted so she was crouching in front of you. “Witches are the worst for it. They want to be the most powerful in the coven, the most powerful of supernatural creatures, whether they voice it or not. If anyone comes along that threatens that power, then they’ll do whatever they can to eliminate them.”

Your entire body was shaking now over what you had seen. “Th-the binding spell-”

“They’ve threatened you with it, too, haven’t they?”

You nodded, unable to confirm it out loud. 

“It’s their favorite threat,” Molia spat. “But I will never let that happen to you. As long as you stay with me, they’ll never touch you.”

“But Soomi-”

“(y/n).” With a wave of her hand, Molia took water from the grass around you and pooled in her hands. Under her breath, she whispered an incantation that you’d heard before but never had tried yourself. Divination was never a strong suit of yours, despite the visions in your head. 

In the surface of the water, you watched as Soomi observed you from around corners, a cell phone up to her ear and her lips moving quickly. The downside to this type of spell: no sound to know what was being said. She didn’t look wicked or scheming, like Tatia had, but you could still understand what was happening. The scene shifted to a meeting of the mothers and Soomi. The topic was a heated one – and you knew that it was centered around you. And your seemingly one defender sat there quietly, not speaking up once on your behalf. 

The image rippled away and Molia let the water slip through her fingers, back to the dying grass below. 

“They don’t care about us,” Molia said softly. “Those who plot against their own sisters don’t deserve to call themselves witches. They don’t deserve the gifts that have been given to them.”

You felt numb. You felt abandoned all over again. It seemed that was the theme of your life: abandonment and betrayal. 

As a child, your parents had given you up to be raised by the mothers; an old tradition that had died out long ago. But your family clung to the old ways, even sending your male cousin off to live with human relatives despite the fact that he showed signs of being gifted. They didn’t care that a child needed their parents. They tossed you away to be someone else’s problem. And you hadn’t heard from them in years. 

Now there was this. Why did everyone you leaned on step away? You could feel your fists tightening, nails biting into your skin at the tension. What you didn’t see was the triumphant smirk on Molia’s lips.

“What are you planning on doing?” you asked, looking up. 

“There’s something that we can do,” she replied cryptically. “It’s only on the blood moon that we have this ability, from what I’ve been able to discover. But I need you to keep an open mind.”

Closing your eyes, you said through gritted teeth, “Just tell me, Molia.”

“What are humans made of?” Molia laughed. “Mostly, anyway?”

You frowned, thinking back to the one human anatomy class you had long ago. “Water?” Your answer hung in the air until the obvious came to you. Snatching your hands away, you backed away. “You want to control people?”

“Not forever!” She reached for you again, but you dodged her hands. “Only long enough to show them that they can’t keep us down. I want you to take back your life. You could be head of the coven. We could be the ones who make the rules for once. Think about it, (y/n). Think about the things we could do if we were the ones in charge. For example: all the covens are divided. No one is willing to unite them. But maybe we could. We could start with yours and then another. Soon, the witches could be one again. And no one would have to fear their own powers. No one would be suppressed or scared.”

“But what you’re suggesting is exactly that.” Enforcing peace with violence was nothing but hypocritical. And you didn’t want to live your life that way. 

“It’s only temporary,” she insisted. “How many countries had to insight war to bring peace to their lands? To unite different tribes under one banner?”

That… ugh. You hated how she could make the most insane ideas sound logical. But she was right, wasn’t she? If you could really stop the infighting and bring the witches together, why would anyone need to worry? And you could make sure that no one was abandoned like you were. The more you thought about it, the more sense it made. Only one thing stopped you from fully saying yes. “Would some people get hurt?”

Molia stood up and looked down at you with soft eyes. A surprise given their permanent state. But you’d grown used to seeing kindness from such an extreme color. “(y/n), I will not turn you into a murder.”

You let out a breath of relief. 

“Good. It’s settled then. Tonight, at the height of the blood moon, we’ll face your coven and start our mission with one of success.” Her glee suddenly gave way to a more serious expression. “However, there is still something that could stand in our way.”

Pushing yourself up to your feet, you brushed the grass and dirt from your pants. “What do you mean?”

“Several years ago, your coven helped save one of the wolves’ mates. I’m sure you’re aware?” Molia waited for you to nod before continuing. “Since then, the pack has vowed to protect the coven in dire situations, should they need it. I’m afraid the pack might position themselves between us and the others.”

“I can’t do it then,” you said. “I can’t fight Sehun.”

“You still haven’t let him go?”

You scoffed, throwing your hands up in the air. “I couldn’t if I wanted to. The mate connection doesn’t just go away. It’s always there, even if I didn’t want it.”

Molia scowled. “Even if? Think about it. Do you really want to be tied to a person like that? To someone that wouldn’t listen to you? Who said that they would have preferred for you to be human like the rest?”

You wanted to argue. You wanted to say, again, that he was right about it not being Mina and that he probably saved Dana a lot of pain and heartache. But your own hurt was growing. You couldn’t explain why, only that the more you thought about it, the more your heart cried out in despair. Why did you have to live with this? Why weren’t you given a choice?

“He betrayed your trust, dismissed you. What kind of a mate is that?”

“What’s the point?” You kicked at the ground. “There’s only one spell that can severe the bond and both parties have to be willing.” If you were actually able to get to that point, you knew you would crumble. Perhaps you were holding on to that small piece of hope. That maybe if he didn’t want to let go of the bond, then maybe he’d still want you, witchiness and all.  

For the past couple of days, he’d haunted your thoughts. At night when you tried to sleep, he was there, lying next you and running his fingers down your face. He asked you to come back to him, to try again. But then you’d blink and he’d disappear in an uncatchable smoke. 

Was it just wishful thinking? Or maybe a seed of doubt about what you were doing here with Molia?

But then the sun rose and using your powers occupied your mind. Molia kept you focused, distracted almost. But you also felt the happiest, most relaxed, and confident that you’d ever felt in your whole life. And you didn’t want to give it up. 

That all too familiar look flashed in Molia’s eyes. It happened every time she was about to divulge a secret she found particularly alluring. 

“What if I told you there was another way to break the bond?

You shook your head. “That’s impossible.”

“Not for a vampire.”