Academy Of Mates novel Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I remember it like a bad dream, but unlike dreams, this one stuck to me like glue, making me remember every terrible detail. Because it wasn’t a bad dream. It was the truth… my past.

Three. I had just turned three years old.

My mom took me to the woods that day. I remember the way the trees seemed too tall, their branches stretching over us like crooked arms. I was holding her hand tight, afraid of losing it even for a second. Her palm was cold and damp, trembling slightly in mine. I didn’t understand why she was shaking, only that it made my chest feel tight,

like I needed to hold on harder.

The ground beneath my shoes was uneven, roots poking up through the dirt, leaves crunching with every step. I stumbled more than once, and each time she tightened her grip, pulling me along as if she were in a hurry. I tried to keep up, my little legs working as fast as they could.

Deep in the woods, where the mist hung low and thick, where the cold slipped through my clothes and made me shiver, she stopped. The air smelled damp and rotten, like something had died and been forgotten. She guided me to the base of a large tree and made me sit between its roots, the wood rough against my back.

Even to this day, the sound of her voice still brings me to tears… whenever I’m too weak to push the memories away.

It was soft. Quiet. Sad.

She told me to wait. That she would be right back. That I was not to move an inch.

I nodded eagerly, because waiting was something I was good at. I waited for meals. I waited for bedtime. I waited for her to finish talking to adults who never seemed to notice me. I thought this was the same kind of waiting. I thought there would be something at the end of it-a smile, a hug, maybe even praise for being good.

Being the obedient child that I was, I stayed exactly where she put me. I felt nervous about being left alone, but I smiled anyway, watching her walk away. I expected her to turn back. To wave. To smile at me.

She didn’t.

I remember the look on her face clearly. Guilty. Tight. And she did not smile back.

I didn’t think much of it then. I was too young to understand what guilt looked like. So I waited. And waited. And waited… and then I waited some more.

The sun was still out when she left, warm light filtering through the trees. Eventually, it wasn’t anymore.

The shadows grew longer. The forest grew quieter, then louder in strange ways. The cold crept in slowly, settling into my bones. When night fell completely, it was so dark I couldn’t even see my hands in front of my face. I hugged myself tightly, trying to keep warm, my small body shaking.

Owls hooted somewhere above me. In the distance, wolves howled.

“Mom?” I whispered, my lips trembling. “Mommy? Is that you?”

No answer came.

So I stayed.

I waited some more.

I felt sleepy, but I forced my eyes open. I was afraid that if I closed them, she would come back and not be able to find me in the dark. I didn’t want her to be mad. Looking back now, it was foolish. Werewolves can see in the dark. She would have found me easily.

If she wanted to.

But she didn’t.

When the darkness faded into a pale morning light, I felt a rush of hope so strong it hurt. She would come now. She had to. Maybe she had gotten lost. Maybe something had delayed her. That had to be it.

Any time now.

I didn’t know what I was feeling anymore. Fear tangled with hunger. My stomach hurt, a deep, aching pain I didn’t know how to describe. My mouth was dry, my lips cracked. I felt tired in a way that sleep couldn’t fix.

But I stayed.

I told myself stories in my head. That she had simply forgotten. That she was coming back with food. With water. That this was some kind of test, and if I passed; she would be proud of me.

Maybe.

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