I turned to him, and he placed his paws on top of the worn-out book.
“Your ancestors never did that.” He announced, and I frowned.
“You don’t know anything, Ash.”
“No, I don’t. But I draw from your magic, your blood, your being, your essence, and from a long line of witches dating back to our beginning. And that alone is enough to tell me all these are lies.”
I sighed. I wanted to believe that. But it could not all be lies. Who would even want to make such claims about them if there was no atom of truth? The werewolves were still scared of the witches to this day.
“Do not believe anything from that book.” He warned. But it was impossible not to. The werewolves were a peaceful people till the witches arrived, asking for a home and claiming a strange poison was killing their kids. For t
