Debra’s POV:
🎂🥳ミ💖 J͎o͎i͎n͎ ͎B͎e͎a͎r͎N͎o͎v͎e͎l͎s͎.͎C͎o͎m͎ ͎F͎o͎r͎ ͎L͎a͎t͎e͎s͎t͎ ͎U͎p͎a͎t͎e͎s͎ 💖彡
I approached the mixed-blood witch with haste and guided her to safety before anyone could gather their wits.
My power was mighty but unreliable. If it were to fade, we’d find ourselves in dire straits. The wisest course was to vanish posthaste.
By some stroke of fortune, whether from shock or fear of my might, Shirley and her companions made no move to follow.
Only when we had put some distance between us did Shirley regain her composure. Her voice rang out, filled with incredulity. “That was impossible! Absolutely impossible!”
Her protests were like leaves in the wind, unnoticed as I continued our flight. We did not halt until Shirley’s prying eyes were far from view.
“Debra, thank you!” The witch’s voice was a whisper of gratitude. She bowed her head, her words a fluttering heartbeat. “I’m Nora Garza, by the way. Nice to meet you.”
I gestured dismissively. “Think nothing of it. Yet caution must be your cloak. If Shirley glimpses you again, she’ll surely weave a web of woe.”
Nora nodded, her agreement silent but firm. “Understood.”
A crease formed on her forehead as a thought struck her. She voiced her concern with caution. “Debra, your stand against Shirley was for my sake. What course do we chart now? Her lineage grants her might that’s not easily matched. She’s unlikely to overlook this slight.”
I met her concern with a grin. “Ease your mind. Fear of Shirley’s wrath isn’t a shackle I bear. Our enmity isn’t new. Even had today not unfolded as it did, her sights would still find me. The blame isn’t yours to carry.”
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“Understood.” With a sigh heavy as the evening fog, Nora cautioned, “Take heed, Debra. Shirley wields more power than you might expect. Keep out of her sights.”
Curiosity piqued, I pressed for answers. “I find it peculiar. Shirley seems to harry others at her whim. Is her behavior sanctioned simply because she’s the leader’s daughter? She flaunted her spite for you without a care for watching eyes. Does she not fear her reputation tarnishing like silver in the rain? How can she expect to lead the clan with such disdain from her kin?”
A bitter smile crossed Nora’s face. “She doesn’t lash out at just anyone. I’m just a mixed-blood witch. Pureblood witches turn a blind eye when she bullies me in daylight.”
My confusion deepened. “Yet you, too, are of the clan. Why should your blood dilute your standing?”
Nora’s gaze dropped, her voice a shadow’s whisper. “Don’t you see? Those like me, we dwell at the bottom. Our pain is sport to them, a spectacle met with applause rather than aid.”
My heart skipped as surprise jolted through me.
Could this be real?
Memories of bystanders, their eyes alight with cruel mirth, flooded back. They were not just spectating; they relished the scene.
A hot wave of anger surged within me. Rage brewed within me the longer I dwelt on the injustice. “How can such bias stand? We are all witches. Why do the pure-bloods have such a big prejudice against the mixed-bloods?”
Nora’s smile held no joy as she shook her head. “Reason has no home here. This divide runs as deep as the clan’s roots. The former leader’s disdain was a sharper thorn for the mixed-blood. Once upon a time, there was…”
She caught herself, sealing her lips as if locking away secrets.
My intuition flared, sensing untold stories. “What strife has marked the history between mixed-blood and pureblood witches? I must know.”
Excitement edged Ivy’s voice. “This reeks of a hidden tale!”
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