Determination

I sit here, alone with my thoughts, the weight of everything Nana has told me sinking in. My heart swells with a deep, aching appreciation for the love my parents have for me, a love so fierce they sacrificed everything to protect me. And then there’s Nana and Lola—loyal, unwavering in their devotion. They didn’t have to stay, didn’t have to cloak their magic or forsake their lives for my sake, but they did. They chose me.

The warmth of their love fills me, but beneath it, there’s a current of anger that simmers just beneath the surface.

My eyes are wide open now, no longer clouded by the innocence of my upbringing. I understand the dangers that await me—the other fairy queens who conspired against my mother, chaining her, forcing her to endure such humiliation. I feel the blood rush in my ears, a hot surge of fury rising within me. How dare they? How dare they strip her of her freedom, her choice? I can feel my nails digging into my palms, a silent vow taking root in my heart.

I will make them pay. For every chain, for every stolen moment, for every tear my mother shed—I will bring them to their knees.

And the supernatural council… They think they’re untouchable, that they have the right to play gods over the lives of others. My parents should have been with me, should have been able to watch me grow, to hold me, to laugh with me. But the council stole those years from them, from me. The thought of it, the injustice, is like a knife twisting in my chest.

The years of parenthood they’ve stolen from my parents is unforgivable.

But it’s not just my family that they’ve destroyed. How many others have been torn apart? How many werewolves have been forced to live without their destined mates because of this twisted idea of purity and segregation? The council’s rules make me sick. If destiny, in all its power, decides to link two souls together—regardless of their species—then who are they to stand in the way of that? Who are they to decide who is worthy of love?

A bitter taste fills my mouth as my heart cries for my parents, for all the families broken by the council’s arrogance. My mind races with the faces I’ve never seen—the mother who held me in her arms, the father who shielded me from harm. They are out there, somewhere, fighting for their lives, for me.

But I will see them again.

The thought fills me with a fierce determination that burns brighter than my anger. I will get stronger—strong enough to face whatever dangers lie ahead. Strong enough to stand tall against the council, against the fairy queens. Nothing—nothing—will stand in my way.

With each breath, I can feel the fire inside me growing, a promise that I will keep. For my parents, for myself, for everyone who’s suffered because of the council’s tyranny. They will fall, and I will be the one to bring them down.

I stand, my heart pounding in my chest as I begin to ascend the stairs. Each step feels like a step toward my future, toward my destiny. Knowing that my parents lived here, in this house, with me—loved me—makes my heart flutter, a rare moment of warmth in the midst of the storm that brews within me.

As I reach the top of the stairs, the creak of the wood beneath my feet is accompanied by the sound of Nana bustling about in the attic. She’s up there, pushing boxes around, as determined as ever.

I squeeze through the narrow hatch door, dust swirling around me in the dim light. The attic is filled with old memories—boxes upon boxes of things from another time, remnants of a past I’ve only just begun to understand. And there she is, Nana, covered in dust but undeterred, her silver hair escaping from the bun she always wears, her face set in concentration as she rummages through an old, battered box.

She grumbles to herself, her movements impatient as she tosses items behind her without a second thought. Old trinkets, forgotten relics of lives once lived, scatter across the floor, but Nana is undeterred. She huffs, digging deeper, before finally, with a triumphant cry, she pulls something up from the depths of the box.

A… handbag?

I stare at it, bewildered, as Nana holds it up like some grand prize. Her eyes are shining with pride, as if she’s just uncovered a hidden treasure.

I blink, unable to hide my confusion. “Uh… Nana?”

She grins at me, a mischievous glint in her eye as she dusts off the handbag, her enthusiasm contagious despite my skepticism. “This, my dear, is no ordinary handbag,” she says, holding it out like it’s a sacred artifact.

And somehow, despite everything, I find myself smiling too.