Chapter 124 The truth about her bloodline 1

Chapter 124: Chapter 124 The truth about her bloodline 1

Talia’s POV

The fire had burned low, and the room was a bit dim, but I did not light another log.

I did not want to move, because I just wanted to read.

I turned the page of my mother’s journal, and her words pulled me deeper into a world I had never known.

"The Silvertongues were once many. We were a clan, not a pack, because we did not answer to Alphas the way other wolves did. Our power came from our voices, and our voices came from our bloodline. We were respected, and we were feared, and because we were feared, we were hunted."

My eyes moved across the page, devouring every word.

"The other packs grew jealous. They did not understand our power, and what they did not understand, they wanted to destroy. They formed alliances, and they waged war. One by one, our villages burned, and one by one, my people fell."

"I was only a girl when my own mother was killed. I ran, I hid, and I survived while everyone I loved died around me. I carried their names in my heart, and I promised myself that I would never forget them."

"I wandered for years. I had no pack, no home, and no one. So I was alone in a world that wanted me dead."

"Then I met your father."

Her words softened here. The letters were smaller and tighter, like she was writing something precious and fragile.

"Edmund was not a strong Alpha, and he was not a brave wolf. But he was kind, and he looked at me like I was something beautiful. I told myself that if I married him, if I joined the Cresswood Pack, I would be safe. And no one would look for a Silvertongue hiding in a small, weak pack."

"But I was wrong."

"Vivienne saw me as a threat from the moment I arrived. She wanted Edmund for herself, and she wanted to be Luna. And she was willing to destroy anyone who stood in her way."

"By the time I realized what she was, it was too late. She had already begun to poison everything."

I stopped reading for a moment. My chest was tight, and my throat burned.

Vivienne had been destroying my mother long before she started destroying me.

I turned the page.

"And then you were born."

"I knew the moment I looked into your eyes that the mark of the Silvertongue was on your soul. I saw it in the way you cried, in the way you watched the world, and in the way your tiny voice could silence a room."

"You are the last one, my daughter. The last Silvertongue in the world."

My hands trembled.

"If they find out what you are, they will come for you. Not just Vivienne, or the rogue wolves, but everyone who fears our power will want you dead. The same wolves who hunted my mother will hunt you, and the same wolves who burned our villages will burn yours."

"So I hid you."

"I gave you the glamour charm to hide your face. I made you look plain, forgettable, and invisible. I told you never to remove it, and I prayed you would listen."

"And I left you in Cresswood because I thought you would be safe there."

Her handwriting became messier here, as the letters slanted and shook.

"I hope I made the right choice. I hope you are alive, I hope you are reading this, and I hope you know that I did not leave because I wanted to. I left because I had to, and because they were coming for me, Talia. They were coming for all of us."

"If you are reading this, then I am gone. I do not know if I am dead or alive somewhere far away. But I want you to know that I loved you. I love you, Talia. I have always loved you."

"And I am sorry for everything. I am so sorry."

I closed the journal.

My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold it. My tears had soaked the pages, blurring some of the words, but I did not care.

She did not know if I was alive.

She hoped she had made the right choice, but she did not know. And she left because she had to, not because she wanted to.

I sat there on the floor, with my mother’s journal pressed against my chest, and I let myself feel everything.

I felt the anger, the grief, and the love I had buried so deep I thought I had lost it forever.

I knew that she was not dead, because I felt it in my bones. I knew she was out there somewhere, alone and afraid, and she did not know if her daughter was alive.

I made a decision, and a promise to myself that I was going to find her, and I was going to bring her home, no matter what it takes.

I did not know how long I sat there.

The shadows had shifted, and the light had changed. I had lost track of time; maybe hours or minutes, I could not tell.

The journal had swallowed me whole, and I had let it, because I needed to know everything, even the parts that hurt.

Especially the parts that hurt.