You can try all you like, Marinette said. Whatever she is trying to tell you is inconsequential.
I ignored the loa. I couldn’t access my magic, but I still had some scant power left. I pushed it into my eyes, forcing myself to focus. I squinted at the phone but could only make out a blur. “Make it bigger!” I yelled into the air, my vocal cords failing at the end like ice had frozen them solid. My teeth chattered hard.
I finally caught sight of one word.
TAKE
“Take what?” I whispered, barely getting the words out.
What is she talking about? I asked my wolf. What does she mean by take?
She is grasping at straws, Marinette answered before my wolf could. It will be over soon, don’t you worry.
I had to do something. I couldn’t just die here without a fight.
My body wouldn’t move any longer at my command, so I did the only thing I could think of—I tried to distract her and buy us some time to figure out what Juanita wanted us to do. If she was still reaching out to me, that meant there was a way out. Why are you doing this? I asked Marinette.
Instead of words, I began to perceive a clear image of Marinette in my mind. That’s right. I was glorious and will be again very soon.
She was in fact glorious. Long blonde hair billowed out behind her as she stood atop a rocky crag, dressed in a gown of what appeared to be spun gold. Her features were feminine and linear, her eyes the purest blue. She was beautiful.
Why were you killed? I asked groggily. I thought immortals couldn’t die.
That’s not important.
I beg to differ, I said. It’s the reason I’m lying here right now. You were an immortal goddess and you died. Because of that, you are seeking revenge. I feel your bitterness and your rage like it was my own. This involves me. You’re taking what’s mine and I have the right to know.
I felt her impersonal shrug, like it wasn’t my business, but who cared if I knew. Fate deemed I was no longer fit to be a goddess, so the Hags stripped me of my form, but try as they might, they could not take my soul.
Why weren’t you fit to be a goddess? Because you created werewolves without their permission?
No. She sniffed. Creating a race of powerful supernaturals was what I was born to do. The Earth was evolving and supernaturals who had formed in the beginning were becoming uncontrolled. Unchecked, the supernatural races would’ve taken over, each Sect trying to kill off the other in a perpetual war. Eventually all humans would have died and there would have been none left to breed or to pray to the gods and goddesses. Everything would’ve been lost. So immortals, like myself, were each tasked with creating a new, powerful race—races that would control the balance. More intelligent beings. I chose mine wisely.
Then why were you punished? I was fading fast and Marinette knew it. Her voice was filled with glee. She would answer any questions now, but only because she no longer had anything to fear. She had what she wanted. I struggled to stay coherent, to hear her answers because they were important. And as I did, something about Juanita’s word pushed at my consciousness, forcing me to listen to her carefully. TAKE.
They deemed me unfit because I veered from Fate’s path.
On purpose? I asked.
Oh yes, she positively cackled. My race was growing strong, fighting and amassing great power, taking down the weak, protecting the humans. The humans were aware that the tides had shifted and they paid me with their homage and prayers, and my power grew by unfathomable degrees. It was a wondrous time.
It couldn’t have been that wondrous if you died, I pointed out.
I did what I had to do. I have no regrets. Her voice was harsh.
You’ve got a captive audience here, and I’m dying to know what you did to piss off Fate.
Her magic was now intertwined inside every piece of me. We were one and I was hanging on by a thread. My wolf was the only reason we hadn’t succumbed just yet. She was still fighting, trying to push Marinette back with everything she had. I created you.
I gasped. Me? I was the reason you were killed?
SHE IS YOU. The knowledge of Juanita’s words dangled in front of me, needling me, begging me to understand.
Your predecessor, to be exact, Marinette spat. The very same wolf who resides inside you now, who fights me even though you have already given up. I didn’t feel like I’d given up, but I was awful sleepy. I couldn’t see my wolf in my mind any longer. Marinette had masked her from me. Do you not wonder why you—and you alone—have two souls?
I have two souls? I sputtered. I was equal parts thunderstruck and baffled by her admission. It was true, I could hold a conversation with my wolf, see her clearly in my mind as an individual. She was pushy and independent, but I’d never considered her as separate. I only had myself to go on, and I figured every wolf could communicate with their inner wolf like I could. But, come to think of it, I’d really never asked anyone.
Marinette laughed at my confusion. Yes, your wolf is separate, of her own mind, unlike your Pack mates. She was actually created with a piece of my very own soul, bred to be the most powerful wolf on the planet. Your predecessor was my greatest achievement, as well as my undoing. Once they found out what I had done, the Hags were only able to kill my living body because my soul was halved. It is also the reason why your body cannot fight me now. Inside you resides my existence, and I’ve finally come back to retrieve what’s mine, like a mother to her child.