The four of us, that is, Lizzie, Fallyn, Noah, and myself, were all rifling through old documents, trying to find anything that could help them. There were maps that depicted the area over the years, documents showing ownerships of the land, anything Lizzie could find that might be related to, well, any of it. Witches and shifters and prophecies.

At the news of Myrus’s death, I’d tuned into Noah at an increasing rate, likely bordering on insanity. He didn’t say how he was feeling this time. He didn’t say anything at all. In fact, for roughly ten whole minutes after he heard the news, he was like a statue, frozen and not responding to anything.

I knew he didn’t have any good attachments to the man, but we all knew he’d accomplished his ultimate goal already.

I wasn’t sure how much of Myrus’s plans Noah had known about. I had no idea if he was feeling guilty or sad or broken.

All I knew for certain… was that his fingers were moving less.

He wasn’t talking as much as usual, not with his hands and not in his mind.

For the most part, he appeared unaffected by it all, especially at the current moment, diligently flipping through pages, snapping to get our attention if he found anything worth looking into. Lizzie was in and out of the room, dancing over and around the papers that were quite literally covering everything as she went in search of more old papers.

I wasn’t even on my chair anymore. I was on the floor, my former chair covered in stacks of papers in my attempt to keep things slightly organized, knowing Lizzie would have to put this all back together again, with or without help.

Each of us had found a few random things.

Lake Tarva.

I picked up the next page, skimming the words.

We’d learned that it used to be pack grounds, all the way back in the mid-1800s. But, by the time the next one-hundred years, it was nothing but unused land, empty of shifters.

There wasn’t much information on the pack that had been there. If it had been a location of one of the five original alphas, then there could be something to it. Unless… it was covered up. That was what the witches had done, right? They hid it all.

I was deep in thought, staring at the number 1868 at the top of my document, trying to read the signature that looked more like a wavy scribble than letters.

Noah snapped from a few feet away and I carefully rose and made my way over. He pointed down at the page he was holding, an old article that looked ready to fall to pieces.

I read it aloud for Fallyn and Lizzie who were staring at us intensely, blessed by a distraction from the pages in their own hands.

“News article from the town next to Lake Tarva. Dated the summer of 1870. The Black– wait. Really?” I stopped and looked back at Noah. He nodded. There was a sinking feeling in my stomach. Well, one of Jane’s ancestors needed to really work on their signatures, it seemed. That scribbled signature made a quick appearance in my mind, highlighting the letters to fit the name. “’The Blackstone family reunion was marred by a massacre of flame and wolf attacks. The attacks happened just before the fire. Leaving just two survivors of the attack and those who were on their way to the lake.’”

A familiar face looked back at me from the drawn image of the two. It was younger, but definitely the same.

The description told of a woman and her so-called aunt. As far as I knew, the two of them weren’t related at all.

The names…

Their real names.

Ashena was there when it happened.

And so was the High Witch.

Noah flipped the paper around so Fallyn and Lizzie could see it. Their eyes widened.

“Ashena?”

Lizzie clapped her hands twice, her gaze drifting away and back to her stacks.

“Wait. That year…”

She practically dropped down to the floor and looked like she was ready to give herself a dozen papercuts from the speed in which she was digging through the pages.

“What is it?” I asked hesitantly.

Stopping, she looked up at me with certainty.

“That’s the year the Pack Wars ended.” She flipped a few more pages and pulled one free, lifting it high, tapping it with a finger. “Here.”

She passed it over to Fallyn and then to us. As I held it for Noah and I to read, Fallyn shook his head slowly.

“It seems awfully odd for it not to be connected. I mean, witches on this land? As a Pack War is happening?”

“Right?” Lizzie nodded vigorously. “It’s totally strange.”

Noah, not looking up from the pages, lifted a hand and signed, slowly, restarting once with a shake of his head. Fallyn’s brows furrowed.

“You think the pack war was a ruse?”

Noah nodded and then huffed after signing a few more words. His voice crept into my head as he gave me the gist of what he was thinking. To be honest, as far-fetched as it sounded, it seemed possible that it might be the truth. After his theory came to an end, I looked to Lizzie, who was clueless and Fallyn, who had only caught a few words he’d unconsciously signed, emphasizing them.

“Witches… instigated the Pack Wars?” I asked carefully, wondering if it was possible to tread too far into this uncharted territory.

“I mean, it would explain all this weird stuff involving Blackstone wolves, right?” Lizzie piped up.

It did make sense.

If the Lake Tarva Pack was the original home of the Blackstone wolves…

If that location was the reason and epicenter of the Pack Wars…

If witches had been trying to hide something, or end… something.

We were going to be way in over our heads.

A most concerning thought filled me.

What was the High Witch doing in sending Minnie, in having a group go back to the location… and what did they do to the person they’d trapped all these years?

What if this had nothing to do with a prophecy?

What if it this was a ruse too?

I couldn’t bring myself to say the words aloud as a video call interrupted our study session. Minnie and the others chatted with Lizzie and Fallyn. Noah grabbed my hand quietly. We drew comfort from each other in that little touch, in our silence, both inside and out loud.

After a while, I heard a quiet voice in my mind, Noah’s voice.

‘A while back… you were wondering…’

‘Hm?’

‘Thinking of Myrus… makes me think of her.’

He didn’t need to explain who. I squeezed his hand gently, but I kept quiet, somehow getting the feeling he had more to say.

‘I don’t like my thoughts right now. Some unfinished business. Questions. I just – I just don’t want–’

‘Noah, it’s alright. I can’t pretend to understand what’s going on in there,’ I told him honestly. I brushed my thumb over the back of his hand. ‘But, whatever it is, I’m here to accept it. I accept you.’

He kissed the back of my hand reverently. I saw some of the tension slip from his shoulders, making them drop back down to a comfortable place.

His phone lit up after a bit, while the others were still talking. Despite not trying to look, I noticed the long paragraph, Jane’s name at the top. I sat on the arm of his chair, moving the few papers elsewhere. Leaning back against the backrest, I stared up at the ceiling, still holding his hand, playing absentmindedly with his fingers.

When he was ready to unpack whatever it was that him and Jane had learned, I’d be there. Before, during, and after. Until then, I’d just stay right here, waiting, acting as his rock.