The Last Spirit Wolf by Elena Norwood Novel Full Episode

Chapter 35

Vera

“Hmm……..” 1 grunt, waking up unexpectedly

I rub my eves and turn to the clock on my nightstand

Once again. 1 missed dinner

Putting a pillow over my Nemil. 1 try to fall back to sleep, bot shter a comple

clear I won’t be able to:

Stepping not of my mom, 1 tiptoe down the stairs. The pack house is entirely deserted at this hour cince mveryb*dy is asleep, I’m careful not to make any mois

Without turning any lighės, I go down to the kitchen to grab a kettle to make

tex. I know this kitchen like the back of my hand, un

the kettle on the flame, beating up the water. I turn around, going towards the cupboard to grab a mig

however, I get a sudden vition.

It ain’t dea, and 1 have to squint my eyes a little to adjust to the light of the vision,

Where am 17

1 blink several times, the vision still foggy, until 1 suddenly see a shape moving

It’s a woman, a very beautiful woman at that. She’s carrying something in one hand as she makes her way up a set of stone stairs.

1 take a look around me, 1 don’t seem to be in lycan territory, nonetheless this place

quite familiar.

I follow the woman up the winding stairs. Now being closer to her, even if I can only see her back, I can tell she’s a very elegant woman, of high birth. Her long. thick brown hair sways as she moves like a gentle wave.

Soon, we reach the top of the stairs which has led us to some sort of run down rooftop. The brightness of the night sky illuminates the entire space and I notice that the entire stone wall has been taken up by wild vegetation; it makes it seems more ite an open courtyard. From the plants alone, I know we’re in wolf territory.

The woman moves to sit on a concrete bench in the middle of the courtyard, one that is barely noticeable since the vegetation has started ta proceeds to take something out of the leather pouch she was carrying; it’s a wind flute, I haven’t seen one in several years, not since we were

over it as well

cht mune in N

She closes her eyes, delicately putting the wind flute to her l*ps and blowing on it. After a few test blows, without opening her eyes, she takes a deep breath, begins her song

It’s a haunting melody, full of sorrow and melancholy, but there’s also a sweetness to the song that I can’t understand.

The wand in bilowing pently, causing her hair and all the vegetation to dance along with it; everything in perfect synchrony with her song

The entire soone is quite wistful; quite beautiful. So much so that I find myself unable to take my eyes off of her, completely enthralled by the sight. kiti moquenta, bet nuclody is done and the places her flute on het lap

With her eyes still closed, she turns het faor ugc reveling in the gentle caress of the wild. Without opening her eyes, she opens her mouth, and begins to sing.

with tales of diona, far off in the ane, but I never thought I’d see one un land. Her visor is markodic but wanowtul, vivacious but werene. If I thought her sudy on the flute wat striking her visior is simply put

m completely captivated by her perlammator and boww everyitung around bei serosa la isect to hot, eveti me, so much so that I only heard the heavy steps coming frome below us until they’re almost at the foot of the stairs

“Ellie!” Someone yells.

I turn to the sound of the voice, vaguely noticing that the woman has stopped singing

1/3

“Coming!” she yells back, rushing past towards the stairs.

She makes her way hurriedly down the stairs as I follow her.

When we reach the bottom, there’s a large, dark figure waiting for her off to a side.

“Where were you?”

“Oh, nowhere, I was jus- I was just getting some air”

“Air where? Off in the roof? I told you to stay away from that place!” The figure yells.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to go out of the pack house without you so I went there instead.”

“You shouldn’t be going anywhere without me, not even that f**king rooftop! What do you think, that you can escape me so easily?!” he screams at her.

Coming forward with large, heavy steps, he stands right in front of the woman, lifting her arm forcefully.

“And this? What’s this?!”

He rips the little leather pouch from her hand and opens it, tossing it to the floor as he retrieves the flute.

“This shit again?! How many times do I have to tell you?!”

He grabs the woman by the hair with one hand, tossing the flute to the floor with the other, breaking it into pieces that scatter at the woman’s feet.

“I’m going to teach you what that useless family of yours never could; respect!”

“No, please!” She pleads.

He drags the woman by her hair through several corridors. The man is so much taller than her that she has to run in her tip toes to keep up and make his grip on her hair less painful.

“No, no no please. I promise, I’ll be good! I promise!”

I can tell by the thickness of her voice that she’s holding back tears.

I run after them, screaming at the man in my head. I have to remind myself that this is just a vision, something that has already passed, and there’s nothing I can do to help her; but still, I have to at least try.

Soon, we reach a door and he slams her against r, opening it by the sheer force with which he throws her at it.

She lands on the floor, chest down, as the man stomps inside, reaching for her hair again as she weakly tries to lift herself with her arms. He closes the door behind

them.

I run closer to the door, desperately banging on it.

“Leave her alone!” I yell, my heart constricting at the entire scene.

“No, please!” I hear her yell inside once again.

piece of :

I bang on the door, desperate to get inside and help her.

Tears are starting to well up in my eyes, and even if it’s just a vision, my fists hurt from banging on the door.

Then, I hear her muffled cries.

Goddess, no

“LEAVE HER ALONE!” i yell again, even if I know it’s useless.

Before long, the door to the room is opening again, the half-n*ked man stomping out, leaving the door ajar.

Inside, I see the woman, hugging the sheets to her b*dy and crying into a pillow.

She briefly opens her eyes, sadly looking at the door, making sure the man is truly gone, and that’s when it hits me.

Sorrowful, hazel eyes stare at me, almost as if she could see me. Her sadness, however, can’t hide those golden specs in her irises that I have come to know and love.

Ellie, he had said.

Ellie Goldmoon.

I try to take a step towards her but a sudden, horrid sound causes me to drop to the floor, forcing me to close my eyes and cover my ears.

It’s the tea kettle.

When I open my eyes again, I’m back at the pack house, on my knees and in the middle of the dark kitchen. The only light is the fire from the kitchen stove.

Goddess, what was that?

My heart is still racing from the vision; my eyes sting from my crying and my throat feels hoarse from all the yelling; even my knuckles feel very painful.

This had never happened before. I had never had such a visceral reaction to a vision, much less be hurt in one.

I go to turn off the kitchen as soon as I manage to stand up: 1 really hope I didn’t wake anyb*dy up because the water in the kettle has nearly evaporated at this point.

1 rub my temples with my fingers, a headache slowly settling in

1 take several deep breathes, trying to calm myself.

Clearly, I won’t be getting any sleep tonight, specially not after that vision.

Feeling defeated, I step out of the kitchen, heading towards my room again. There, I will no doubt lie awake, waiting for the time we leave for the Goldmoon Pack

This is how I officially begin day three of our journey.