The wind whistled through the tree, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine needles. At the edge of the clearing, Cassandra stood with her arms crossed firmly over her chest. The air was thick, almost like the ground under her feet was holding its breath. The weight of her vision still pressed down on her: the burning of the Kingdom, the turmoil, the cries. It was all far too real and too vivid. Still, as real as it seemed, Alpha Caelum's dismissive words rang louder in her head.
"Your visions are nothing if you cannot control them."
His firm, commanding tone created a combination of anger and hatred in her. The voice cut through her thoughts forcefully. She wasn't sure which one was more powerful, but she knew it wasn't the quiet acceptance she previously wished she could give him.
She hadn't wanted to be summoned. She had known it was coming. There was an unavoidable conflict between her and the Alpha, but she hoped for some space to breathe and time to organize herself. But no. From the beginning, Alpha Caelum had been clear that her visions, the unique talent distinguishing her from others, were a burden. To him, they were just a nuisance to be ignored and dismissed.
Tension hung thick in the air as she entered his office. High and forbidding, the stone walls of the Alpha's cave felt like a prison to her. The den was where she had grown up, encircled by walls that appeared to close in on her every day. Now, more than ever, they felt smothered.
By the fire, Caelum stood, his wide frame throwing lengthy shadows over the space. Tall, strong, and with the burden of his pack's past carved into his face, he appeared every inch the leader. As she came closer, his keen blue eyes sharpened. Though her heart raced, she remained unflinching. With one phrase, he could ruin her.
"Cassandra, what is it this time?" Colder than the winter air outside, his words sliced through the stillness like a knife. "Another vision of doom?"
She swallowed the words on her tongue that were about to spill out, fighting back the response. "I witnessed the Kingdom on fire. Wolves at war. Blood in the streets."
"Enough with the theatrics," he interrupted, his voice dripping with disdain. Turning to face Cassandra, he looked like a predator evaluating its victim.
"Your 'visions' are meaningless. Cassandra, you are not a prophet. You're a seer—nothing more. You are wasting your time on these fanciful notions. Our pack has real problems. You have real duties. But you are useless to anyone if you cannot control your powers."
Her breath hitched, but she stood her ground. Though Caelum's words hurt severely, the agony of his rejection and dismissal was far worse. It gnawed at her insides, eating away at the final remnants of her self-worth.
For a brief period, Caelum's expression softened; still, it was a deliberate softness devoid of compassion. "Cassandra, hear me out," he urged, moving closer to her.
"You have to quit wasting time on nonsense if you want to be helpful to this pack. Concentrate. That is what is expected of you. Control your powers. Learn to work with them rather than allowing them to control you."
She winced under his firm grip on her shoulder. The touch was more like a command than a comfort; he was trying to control her. He leaned down a little; his breath was warm against her ear.
"Stop claiming you have the answers if you wish to be useful here. Not yet, you don't."
His words were final. A sentence. A verdict.
For a time, she was speechless. The weight of Caelum's disappointment lay over her like a blanket of lead; she had always known Caelum didn't understand her, didn't understand her visions. But hearing it so bluntly and coldly made the room feel smaller. Her chest constricted as she battled the unexpected wave of feeling that sought to consume her.
She sensed his hand leave her shoulder as he moved away, but the chill remained. Caelum remarked, waving her off without a second look, "We're done here."
Cassandra hardly recalled leaving the Alpha's den. Her mind was a tornado of anger and uncertainty, and her feet had led her to the camp's edge. Sharp and relentless, the words Caelum had spoken still rang in her ears. Your dreams are nothing if you cannot control them.
But what was she meant to do? Control something that seemed so out of control? Her visions were always ambiguous and never simple. Sometimes, they came in bursts, others in a flood of fragmented images. They came when they wanted and always made her feel more adrift than before.
She had always been unique. Though strong, her powers had always seemed like a curse. A present that had never given her tranquility. Her duty as a seer had always been a silent burden she carried. But now, after Caelum's words, it seemed like that burden had become insurmountable.
As she retreated to the calm of the woods, her annoyance grew. She needed space to think, to breathe.
Sitting under a tall oak with her legs crossed securely in front of her and her hands on her knees. She attempted to focus and shut her eyes. Calm. Breathe. Focus.
It was of little use, though. The vision came crashing down on Cassandra once more when she shut her eyes: the Kingdom in flames, Damon's face in the center, his eyes full of remorse. She could smell the smoke in the air and feel the heat of the fire. Then, just like previously, he disappeared, leaving her in the ash.
Overwhelmed by the vision's intensity, she gasped as her breath came in jagged bursts. Her heart raced as the images started to warp, and her hands were sweaty. Until it seemed as though the world was closing in on her, the flames became hotter, and the noises of fighting louder.
Focus. Wishing the vision to end, Cassandra pushed her fingers to her temples; it got stronger. The energy grew unrelenting; she could sense the force swelling inside her.
It's beyond my control.
As Caelum had cautioned, her abilities were spiraling out of control. She had always been terrified of this, afraid that one day, she might lose herself to the visions and become overwhelmed by them. But now, the fear was actual and palpable. She could feel herself slipping.
The vision grew more intense, threatening to consume her whole, so her breath came quicker and more frenzied.
Later that night, under the moon's silver glow cast over the camp, Cassandra looked for comfort in her closest friend, Liora. With their backs to the stone wall of the Alpha's den, they sat on the camp's fringes, the noises of the pack's daily rituals vibrating in the background.
Liora, always the loyal companion, had seen something amiss. Following her meeting with Caelum, she had observed Cassandra's shoulders drooping and her eyes losing their normal glimmer. Now, she could feel the tension simmering under the surface.
"What transpired?" Though her voice was gentle, Liora was worried.
Her hands folded in her lap, Cassandra exhaled shakily. "He doesn't believe me. He doesn't believe in my visions."
Liora's brow furrowed in slight confusion. "But he has always dismissed them."
"No," Cassandra said, her voice growing frantic. "This time was different. This time, he said my powers are useless unless I can control them. He claimed I'm wasting my time."
Liora remained quiet for a long time, her gaze narrowing as though considering something profound.
"He's wrong," she finally murmured, her voice calm. "Cassandra, you have the power. It's just…" She trailed off, not knowing what to say.
"What exactly?" Cassandra said, her voice breaking. "What exactly am I meant to do?"
Liora hesitated before leaning in closer and lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
"You can't keep obsessing over Damon, Cassandra. He's dangerous. You don't know him like I do."
Damon's name made Cassandra feel something sharp in her chest. "I don't know him? I saw him; he is…" Unsure of how to explain it, she halted. Though he wasn't the villain, she had seen Damon in the vision. He was not the enemy.
A shout pierced the air, however, before she could continue.
"Rogue wolf sighted close to the boundary!"
Cassandra's heart skipped a beat as the camp fell into instant lockdown. Her breath caught in her throat, and her body tightened. A rogue wolf close to their territory was a far more pressing concern.
Liora's hand held Cassandra's arm fast. "This isn't over," she whispered quietly and urgently. "Stay focused. The rogue might be trouble."
But Cassandra couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.