**Rory – POV**
> "I am your mother," she said.
I gasped.
And for a moment, all I could do was stare.
The room felt too still—like it was holding its breath with me. My lungs refused to fill, my chest tightening as if invisible hands were wrapping around it. I blinked once, then again, expecting the image of her—this woman with my hair and haunted eyes—to vanish. But she didn't.
I had grown up with my mom, dad, and sisters—River and Anna—who never really liked me. They were always kind of hostile, and I figured maybe it was just a teenage phase. My dad was always too busy with work to care. The only one I actually liked being around was my mom.
And now, the only thing I remembered was that blonde woman and the man from the mall restroom, claiming I wasn't from this world—and that my *real* mother was waiting for me in the werewolf realm.
And here she was. A woman who looked like a carbon copy of me, telling me she was my mother.
She stayed still.
Her hand had slipped from mine. Now it trembled in her lap.
"I…" My voice cracked. "You can't be. That's not—my mom's at home. She's waiting for me."
Her face twisted, like I'd struck her. Her orange hair—so much like mine—was tangled at her shoulders, her freckled cheeks pale. But it was her eyes that got me. They were the same shade as mine, down to the flecks of gold in the green.
It felt like staring into a reflection of someone I might become—if I ever made it past all this.
"She's the one who raised you," the woman said softly. "She cared for you. Protected you. I owe her more than I can ever repay. But Rory…" She hesitated, like the words would shatter in her mouth. "She's not your birth mother. I am."
I didn't realize I was shaking until I tried to sit up straighter. My hands gripped the silk sheets, slick with sweat. The luxurious bedding felt alien against my skin. The room was huge—too huge. Warm, glowing with soft candlelight, its carved walls dripping with elegance.
Everything screamed royalty. Power.
But I didn't feel powerful.
I felt like a scared girl who'd just been told her whole life was a lie.
"You're lying," I said, voice low and raw. "You *have* to be. I don't know you. I've never seen you before in my life."
She stood slowly. "You wouldn't remember. You were only a baby when I had to let you go."
*Let me go.*
The words stabbed through the fog of confusion, sharp and hot.
"So you just gave me away?" I spat. "You handed me off to strangers like I was some... some object?"
Her expression crumpled. She crossed the room in two steps but didn't touch me.
"It wasn't like that. I didn't want to. I—I had to. If I hadn't, they would've killed you."
I stared. "Who?"
"The Council.The same ones who executed Aerie."
My breath caught at the name.
Aerie.
She knew the name of my wolf spirit.
The dream—the memory—came rushing back: the snow, the frozen trees, his eyes. The way he'd looked at me. The way he'd said I was the last hope.
"You knew him," I whispered.
"Yes. He was once Alpha of one of the biggest packs in the werewolf realm."
My throat closed.
She didn't say more. She didn't have to.
I looked at her again. *Really* looked. She wasn't just some woman claiming to be my mother. There was grief carved into the lines of her face, a thousand silent apologies slumped in her shoulders. This wasn't new pain. This was old—worn like armor.
"I don't understand," I said after a long silence. "Why didn't anyone tell me? Why wait until now?"
She sat on the edge of the bed, careful to keep her distance. "Because you weren't ready. Your powers were dormant. We didn't know if the bond with Aerie had survived the transfer. If you had stayed in the human world, it might've faded completely."
"But it didn't," I said.
She nodded. "It didn't."
I swallowed hard. "He said I'm the vessel. That I'm some kind of... last chance. What does that even mean?"
The woman—my mother?—looked away, as if steadying herself.
"It means you're the key to finishing what he started. The monarchy has twisted our kind into something it was never meant to be. They rule through fear. Through blood and silence. Aerie fought to change that. He died for it. But his soul found a way to survive—in you."
A strange sensation bloomed in my chest. Not pain. Not fear. But *weight*. Like something vast and ancient had just settled into place inside me.
"I didn't ask for this," I said quietly.
"I know."
"I don't *want* to be part of some rebellion or prophecy or whatever this is."
"I know."
I stared at the wall, at the flickering chandelier above. Shadows danced across ornate moldings like ghosts waiting to be seen.
"I just wanted to go home," I whispered. "To celebrate my birthday with my family in peace."
Silence fell between us. She didn't try to fix it. Didn't offer promises she couldn't keep. Somehow, that made the ache in my chest a little easier to sit with.
Finally, she spoke again. "You're not a prisoner here, Rory. But you *are* in danger. There are people who would rather see you dead than see the truth come out. And now that you're awake—now that Aerie's presence is fully returned—"
She didn't finish.
I looked at her sharply. "Now what?"
Before she could answer, a knock came at the door. Sharp. Measured. Calm in a way that was anything *but* comforting.
She stood immediately, her hand hovering over the doorknob like she could *feel* what waited on the other side.
Her voice turned to ice.
"What is it Linda?"
A smooth, female voice replied, muffled but clear. It sounded like the blonde woman from the restroom.
"Rory is awake. They have requested her presence."
I didn't know much about this world. But I knew enough to recognize that tone.
It wasn't a request. It was a command.
She turned to me, face pale, jaw clenched tight.
"Rory, I know you don't understand much about yourself—about your wolf spirit, about werewolves, about *me*—and maybe you don't believe I'm your mother. But I have no choice." Her voice trembled. "I wanted to protect you—as any mother would."
A tear slid down her cheek as her eyes met mine.
I didn't understand anything. I was overwhelmed and confused.
"What's going on?" I asked, heart pounding. "Who are they? Are they going to kill me?"
She hesitated.
Then she looked me straight in the eyes, her voice low and cold.
> "They're going to test you."