BloodMoon: Captivated by the Forbidden Lycan Alpha
Chapter 253: SPIRIT GIFT BY THE MIRA

Chapter 253: SPIRIT GIFT BY THE MIRA

{"Your spiritual gift was never meant for you alone—it was meant to flow through you to bless others."}

SIERRA’S POV

The library was too quiet, and I sat in the old sun-warmed chair by the arched window, fingers resting on a Mira tome I had read a hundred times before. The words blurred. The magic, once alive beneath my fingertips, was... still.

I closed the book and pressed my palm against the crystal in its spine. It used to respond instantly with a flicker of warmth, a gentle pulse that told me Mira was with me. That I was off it and there was nothing, but a hollow settled in my chest.

I stood, moving without thinking, guided more by instinct than thought. My footsteps echoed down the hallway, past generations of memory, until I reached the ivy-covered arch that led to the secret garden, our sanctuary, our sacred root. I slipped through. The moment I stepped into the space, I felt the hush, the soft reverence that lived in the air here. Flowers that only the Mira could grow, bloomed in defiance of the season. The crystal fountain in the centre was silent, its waters still.

I dropped to my knees before it, palms pressed flat to the basin’s edge.

"Please," I whispered. "Let me feel it again. Let me know."

At first, only silence answered. Then a low hum stirred beneath the ground, a vibration I felt in my bones. The stone warmed, not to me, but around me. The chamber doors opened, and my heart leapt to my throat. I rose and entered the hidden passage, the soft lavender glow leading me into the sacred chambers buried deep within the Kayne estate. My hands trembled as I stepped into the heart of Mira’s memory.

The sight of Ma’s spirit rose, and she stood radiant as ever, her spirit wrapped in soft silver light. She smiled when our eyes met, and my breath caught in my throat.

"Mother..."

"You feel it, child," she said gently. "The shift."

I nodded, barely able to speak. "It is gone. I cannot feel it anymore. The magic, the bondit is... not mine."

"It was never meant to remain with you forever," she said. "You were the vessel. The guardian. The one who kept the line unbroken."

Tears stung my eyes. "Then it is true. It is passed on."

"To Qadira," she said with pride, "and to Freyr Kayne. The Mira blood has chosen its heirsone of soul, the other of prophecy."

A breath left my lungs, slow and shaky. "They’re ready."

Her smile deepened. "Because you made them ready. You protected them. Taught them. And now, Sierra... Now you are free."

The ache in my chest loosened, just a little.

"I don’t know who I am without it," I whispered.

"You are Sierra Kayne," she said, stepping forward, touching her hand to my heart. "Mother. Warrior. Wisdom keeper. And always... my daughter. Mira will live on in them because it lives strongly in you."

As her light began to fade, she left me with a final whisper, warm as sunlight after the storm:

"Trust them. As I once trusted you."

And then she was gone. I stood there in the stillness, tears slipping silently down my cheeks, but I was not grieving. I was grateful. The Mira had passed beyond me. And that was right. That was good. Because magic was not meant to be held forever. It was meant to be passed on . The lavender light still shimmered faintly against the stone walls, casting soft ripples across the chamber floor. I had not moved, and even after her spirit faded, I stayed kneeling there beside the Pool of Echoes, my hand resting on the edge of the water, still warm where she had stood. I had thought I would weep that grief would tear through me like a storm, ripping out the roots of everything I had known. But there were no tears.

Only silence and within that silence... stillness. Not emptiness. Not loss, just stillness. The Mira had left me. Or, I had finally let it go. Either way, I knew the truth now; it lived in Qadira and Freyr. And the ancient pulse that had guided my every breath for decades now belonged to them.

The magic had chosen its path. And it was no longer mine to carry. My hand drifted across the glowing surface of the water. It did not react to me. No ripple of light. No surge of memory. The bond had shifted, fully, finally. And still... I smiled. Because what a gift it had been to serve and carry it. I thought of my mother, her voice still echoing in the chamber walls: You were the bridge. I thought of Qadira’s fire, of Freyr’s quiet strength. On the way, their souls had begun to shine brighter in the wake of Blood Stone Mountain.

They were not children anymore but heirs. And I was no longer a wielder of magic as I was simply... their mother. And that, I realized, might be the most powerful role I had ever played. I stood slowly, running one last hand over the sacred carvings lining the chamber walls. Each vigil, each etched name, ancestors, sisters, daughters, and now, I would leave this place with my name among them, not as a bearer of power, but as a part of the living memory.

My footsteps echoed softly as I made my way to the door. The lavender glow faded behind me. I had turned away from the altar, steps slow but sure, when the air in the chamber shifted. The temperature dropped,d not cold, but cool like a night breeze off the ocean. A hush fell deeper than before, wrapping around me like a familiar embrace.

Then came the scent of smoke and sandalwood. My breath caught, and I turned back. There, rising from the heart of the chamber, where the Pool of Echoes still shimmered faintly with ancestral light, was a figure I knew better than my reflection.

"Dunco," I whispered.

He stood tall, as I remembered him, broad-shouldered, with eyes like twilight storm clouds and a mouth that always softened when he looked at me. The spirit of Dunco Kayne, my husband. My beloved. The Lord of the Coven, once. And still.

"Sierra," he said, his voice full of warmth, the kind that anchored me even now. "You’ve done more than I ever asked of you."

Tears welled instantly. I wanted to run to him, to wrap my arms around him, but I stayed rooted in place, afraid the moment would vanish like mist.

"You held everything together," he continued. "The coven. The children. Our legacy. Even when grief nearly swallowed you whole."

A single tear slid down my cheek. I had not realized how much I needed to hear those words until they landed softly and sharply against my heart.

"I tried," I said hoarsely. "I tried so hard, Dunco."

He stepped closer, his spirit aglow with gentle power. "You did more than try, my love. You endured. You protected them. You loved them with strength. And now... they are ready because of you."

My lip trembled. "The Mira has passed on."

He nodded. "As it should. The torch has been carried. And now, it burns in their hands."

A long silence passed between us, one soul and the echo of another.

"I miss you," I finally whispered.

"I never left," he said, with that half-smile I had once lived for. "And I never will."

The chamber shimmered again, the walls pulsing with ancient energy as he lifted a hand not to me, but as though to the stars. "And now, I give my blessing," he said, voice ringing with power. "To you, Sierra Kayne. My heart, even in death. And to the man who stands beside you now. Dante."

My breath caught, and He smiled wider now, eyes full of knowing. "He loves you. I see it. And I thank him for walking beside you where I could not."

I covered my mouth, sobs slipping through my fingers as my knees weakened beneath the weight of his blessing.

"I needed your permission," I whispered, broken.

He chuckled. "No, Sierra. You just needed to forgive yourself for loving again."

And that did it, and the dam broke. Tears fell freely as his light began to fade, not rushed, not sudden, just soft, like the final note of a lullaby.

"I love you," I said.

"As I love you. Always," he whispered.

And then he was gone. I sank to the chamber floor, alone and not alone, weeping but not from sorrow.

From release. Because love never dies. It only changes form. And finally... I could let go.

The door to the sacred chamber whispered shut behind me, sealing the echoes of the past within.

But something stayed with me: his warmth, his blessing, the peace I had not known I was still seeking until it had been offered freely. My eyes were still damp, my breath shaky, but the heaviness I had carried for so many years... was lighter now.

I stepped into the passageway, the cool stone walls embracing me like old friends. My fingers brushed the smooth surface, and for the first time in what felt like centuries, I was not searching for reassurance. I was simply... present.

When I reached the final bend of the corridor, I paused.

I spotted Dante, leaning against the arched stone entrance, arms crossed, head bowed, and he looked up the second my footsteps softened into earshot. His eyes met mine, and in them I saw the same question I always saw when he looked at me: Are you okay? Can I come closer? Will you let me?

I did not say anything, and I just walked to him and pressed my forehead to his chest.

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