Chapter 77. Not a Werewolf

Mia’s POV

I cling to my mother. I can feel that our time is coming to an end.

“Don’t leave,” I say.

“I have to. You have to continue to be strong,” My mother calms me.

“I don’t understand. I don’t know what I am supposed to do with this information,” I say.

“You will in due time. Just trust yourself and trust Thomas,” My mother says. Her voice is now just a faint whisper, and she begins to feel as if she is dissolving within my hands.

Before I can respond, my eyes flutter open, and I see that I am lying in a bed. I cannot help but feel the grief consume me as I think about my mother.

I stare at the ceiling for what seems like an eternity thinking about what I saw. But was it real or just a figment of my imagination? When I think back to the meadow and my mother, I can still feel her arms around me and the cool breeze that blew through the massive weeping willow. It felt real. All of it felt real except for the part about me being a ly