ALPHA'S WITCH (Midnight Oath)

When did I first feel loneliness? Or rather, when did it sink so deep into me? I think the day we buried my grandmother, loneliness took me over completely. What's the hardest thing for an orphaned girl? Is it learning to accept death because you've lost so much already? Or is it holding on to the only person you have, so deeply it nearly destroys you? I suppose both were true for me. My grandmother was everything. Years ago, she and I left this cursed town behind. Because this town had taken my mother and father from me. Even the cause of their deaths was hidden away like some dark mystery. They only ever said: a fire. I wouldn't learn until much later that it was a witch hunt. And now, I'm carrying out my grandmother's last wish. Returning to this cursed place to spend the New Year in a lonely mountain cabin. I can hear you asking why this was her last wish. I'm surprised by it too. But my grandmother was always an extraordinary woman. So all I can say is, she must have had her reasons, and they made perfect sense to her. I also want to let myself drift for a while, let life carry me. I need to accept that she's gone. Maybe this short holiday will do me good. Three days later, I was driving along the icy road toward the town of Blackthorn. As my red pickup climbed the hill, the wind filled my ears with an ominous moan. My only goal was to reach the cabin as fast as possible. Soon, in the middle of the snow-covered forest road, I spotted a dark shape. Drawing closer, I realized it was a vehicle. "Looks like it broke down," I thought. A man stood there with the hood open, examining the engine. The closer I got, the more I wondered. Despite the bone freezing cold, he wore only a T shirt, as if he felt nothing. For a moment I thought about just driving past, not getting involved. The town's hostility had rubbed off on me, I guess. But damn it. I couldn't be as cruel as these people. My grandmother raised me with kindness. So I pulled over on the right. I reached for my coat in the passenger seat and put it on. The moment I stepped out of the car, I started shivering. It felt like my nose had frozen solid and was about to fall off. Fine, I'm the type who gets cold even in summer. But these cursed lands really put on a show with their freezing climate. I walked a little closer and called out, "Hey, looks like you're stranded?" The man lifted his eyes from the engine and looked at me. His gaze felt colder, deeper than the freezing air around us. Then I studied him a little more. Aside from this unsettling scene, he was incredibly handsome. Breathtaking, even. Jet black hair, dark silver eyes, chiseled features, tall, muscular, and those piercing looks. I think I was impressed. Only a little. Don't get carried away, ladies. He lifted his head from the hood and looked at me. A sly, flirtatious smile crossed his face. "Yeah, you could say I'm stranded," he said, and closed the hood. I was shocked by what I saw. A massive log was embedded in the windshield. Actually embedded. The strange thing was, did this man not see that? Did he really think the problem was the engine? "Wow. Like a giant came along and stuck this tree into your windshield like a giant toothpick." I couldn't hide the surprise on my face. Suddenly he burst out laughing. "Ah. I think giants went extinct a long time ago." Then his eyes fixed on me with a meaningful look. "This town's past is remembered for its wolves and witches," he murmured. "Hmm. Thanks for the interesting local history lesson. But I don't think I can find you a witch or a wolf right now." I smiled. Then I pointed to my car. "But I do have a vehicle. If you want, I can give you a ride into town." He looked at me with deep dimples appearing as he smiled. Then something strange happened. For a moment, I could have sworn I saw a silver shimmer spinning in his eyes. "If it's no trouble, I'd be grateful," he said. I nodded and walked toward the car. At the door I called back, "It's no trouble as long as you don't complain about me listening to Elwes in the car." With a deep smile, he grabbed his leather jacket from his car and came over. The moment he got in, his expression changed. I think the full blast of the heater hit him like desert heat. With a knowing look, he said, "I guess you were a little cold." What was that look? Did this man just judge me? Not everyone has to be as grumpy and cold as you. Some people like warm climates. Whatever. I couldn't project these thoughts onto a stranger. "I'm always cold," I said with a smile. And I hit the gas. From the moment the drive began, his eyes were on me. Under normal circumstances, being watched by a man this handsome might feel flattering. But the people in this town were so strange I wasn't sure it was a good thing. Finally I said, "Hey, can you cut that out?" Glancing at him briefly before focusing back on the road. He ran his fingers through his hair and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. You're just so different. I can't take my eyes off you." "Everyone in this town makes me feel so different. I'm starting to think I have 'I'm a stranger' written on my forehead." I grimaced. He let out a deep laugh. He seemed to enjoy provoking me. "Are you always this sarcastic?" he asked, still smiling. Right then, for no reason, I wanted to be honest with him, and the words just spilled out. "Let's call it my way of camouflaging pain. I lost my grandmother recently." I looked at his face. Normally when someone tells you that, you offer condolences, and your expression shows surprise. But this man's face showed neither surprise nor anything else. As if he already knew. Yet no one had attended my grandmother's funeral except the gravedigger who buried her. It was deeply unsettling. A few seconds later, he asked, "I'm sorry. Did you love her very much?" "Yes. She was my only family. I loved her more than anything." As I thought of my grandmother, I felt anger stirring in my eyes, and I didn't understand why. What was I angry about? That she left me by dying? "I understand. Then why are you still here?" he asked. Normally I would have answered all this politely. But I didn't like being interrogated. His question, "Why didn't you leave?" was just as infuriating as the townspeople who didn't want me here. I turned to him, raised an eyebrow in a mocking expression, and said, "For Christmas. I just came to celebrate Christmas." He wasn't surprised. On the contrary, he looked as if he understood I was mocking him. Then we didn't speak for the rest of the drive. Finally we reached the town center. I stopped the car. He got out and came to the window. A warm smile on his face. "My name's Joe," he said. I extended my hand. "Eva. Eva Rose." "Nice to meet you," he said. His expression changed. I could see the sly grin on his face. "Well then, Merry Christmas, Rose girl." At that, my eyebrows furrowed. The day I came to town to arrange the funeral, everyone had looked at me as if they wanted to kill me, and they'd used that same phrase. What the hell was this "Rose girl" business? Every person I ran into called me Rose's girl with a disgusted look. As if having the surname Rose wasn't just a name to these townsfolk, it was an insult. Just then, the old man who ran the town market, sitting on a wooden chair on the sidewalk, suddenly came running over, pointed his finger, and shouted, "Don't talk to her, Joe! Have you lost your mind? She brings bad luck!" Hearing that, I reached the end of the politeness my grandmother had taught me. I stuck my head out the car window and pointed my finger back at him. "I am not cursed! I'm not carrying a contagious disease. I don't even know you. Stop talking about me, you senile old man!" Then I started the engine. But my anger wasn't finished. As I drove past him, I added with a mocking smirk, "Well, I talked to you after all. I hope I really do bring you bad luck." I hit the gas furiously and drove off. In the rearview mirror I could see the man's face bright red with rage. And Joe, doubled over laughing, slapping his knee. I suppose this stubborn town was about to witness just how stubborn the Rose women could be...