MAGIC and All Other Deadly Affairs | COMPLETE!

ELEVEN | Snow.

ELEVEN | Snow.

People spent all their life trying to prove who they were, and who they wanted to be. That's because a person's pride was a powerful thing but so was the morals they followed. Those morals they wanted to prove were correct.

But, all through a person's life speaking of their morals, and the actions they did to prove their pride daily didn't matter. What mattered was those key moments that they'd be faced with only a few times in their life – if any.

It was those moments where death could appear right in their face, with fear gripping them so painfully they might become short of breath. Those moments they will find themselves on spot to finally decide their true morals. And they will have to decide exactly how much their morals are worth.

Cold wind blew against my face and I shivered. The previous mantra to keep away all physical notions of pain and cold seemed to melt away as fear built inside me. If that wind wasn't as cold and as fierce, I would have believed time itself had frozen this moment.

But with the cold setting in deeply into my bone and the snow melting into water against my clothing I realized I had two problems: if Crow didn't kill me here and now then surely that cold would.

"Balfer stay back little fella," I whispered lowly to my new familiar.

"Pi-ku?"

Crow paid my familiar no attention as he flicked his wrist, those two wolves behind him moved slowly. Prowling to the sides of me and I realized what they were doing – those beasts that should be dead by their slit throats were boxing me in. So I had no choice but obey whatever Crow wanted.

"What do you want?" I asked, trying to keep my voice clear and loud.

Crow's mouth twitched into a twisted grin, making me shiver this time not from the cold. My eyes briefly dropped to the red staining on his coat and I began to wonder if that was those wolves blood.

A dead robin among the grass.

"No urges to bring it back?"

My eyes widened at the memory. That's right, Norman's comment was in a joking tone but the seriousness of it wasn't lost. Did witches have that power to bring back the dead?

My eyes flickered from Crow to those wolves who had begun to growl lowly and it was like a puzzle in my mind falling into place. I gulped, feeling my jaw quiver as the realization hit me harshly.

"You didn't kill them to bring them back did you," I asked praying I was wrong.

He laughed, "Don't act like it's wrong. Why would we have been given this power if not to use it? Clearly you haven't been told the truth so I'm sure you won't mind if I tell you. Haven't you been curious why those copper eyes hate you so much? Why you're the only silver eyes, and why Haze is working so hard to keep the truth from you?"

I promised myself I wouldn't let his words affect me. Not after the darkness that he caused. How could he stand there and say murder and manipulation of the dead was ok? That wasn't just by any means. Except, his questions resonated with me because I was curious.

"It's because you're a different kind of witch. You are a witch born through darkness. Those silver eyes reflect that light that you can only watch and never have. That is why those white witches hate you. Because they are light and you are their sworn enemy," he purred.

Everything in my body froze. As if his words had the power to completely paralyze me and render me terrified and nauseous. His words...they scared me and my stomach had throbbed painfully with the urge to vomit – somehow deep down in my heart his words rang true.