Chapter 127 The power grows 2

Chapter 127: Chapter 127 The power grows 2

Talia’s POV

It was the chief healer.

Her gray hair was pinned back from her face, and her kind eyes were sharp as she looked at me. She carried a small leather bag in one hand and a roll of bandages in the other.

"Luna," she said. "I am here to check your wounds."

I nodded and sat up.

She sat on the edge of the bed and reached for my arm. Her fingers were gentle as she unwrapped the bandages, peeling back the layers of cloth until my skin was bare.

She stared in shock, and her eyes widened.

"This is not possible," she murmured.

"What?" I asked.

She did not answer. She reached for my shoulder, unwrapped the bandages there, and stared again. Then she checked my back, my ribs, and the scratches on my hands.

She sat back and looked at me with wide eyes.

"These wounds should not be healing this fast," she said. "You have only been resting for one day, but this looks like a week of healing."

I said nothing.

Elena frowned. She pressed her fingers against my skin, checking the wounds, and feeling for heat or swelling. But she found nothing.

"You are healing like..." She stopped herself. "I have never seen anything like this."

"Maybe I just heal fast," I said.

Elena looked at me for a long moment. Her kind eyes were sharp and searching, like she was trying to solve a puzzle.

"Maybe," she said.

She rewrapped my bandages, slower this time, and her hands were thoughtful.

"Rest," she said. "Do not push yourself. But I do not think you need to worry."

She stood up, picked up her bag, and walked to the door.

"Elena," I called.

She turned.

"Thank you," I said.

She smiled, nodded and left. Then I was alone again.

I sat on the bed for a while, thinking about what Elena had said. I was healing faster than I should, and faster than any normal wolf.

I knew it was because of my mother’s bloodline.

The Silvertongue power was not just in my voice. It was in my blood, my bones, and my whole body. It was definitely making me stronger.

I stood up and walked to the window.

My legs were shaky, and my body still ached, but I needed to move. I needed to see the world outside these walls, the world that wanted me dead, the world that had hunted my mother, and the world I would have to face someday.

Not today, but soon, and I needed to be ready for that day.

The valley stretched out before me, green and vast and endless. The sun was high in the sky, and the light was golden, and the world was quiet.

I opened the window.

Cool air rushed into the room, carrying the scent of fresh air and earth. I breathed deep, and I felt the power inside my chest move warmly, like it was waiting.

I looked at the tree outside the window. Its branches were heavy with leaves that were green and gold, and they were all swaying gently in the breeze.

I reached for the power that was moving gently in my chest, and I spoke. "Fall," I whispered.

But nothing happened.

I tried again. "Fall."

This time, a single leaf detached from the branch and drifted down to the ground.

My heart pounded, and I tried again, but louder this time. "Fall."

More leaves broke free. They spiraled down through the air, spinning and dancing, and they landed on the grass below. There were yellow and brown and red leaves, scattered across the green grass below like drops of paint.

I smiled, and I practiced for a long time after that.

I made more leaves fall from the trees. I made a bird pause in mid-flight, with its wings frozen, and its body still. I made the wind change direction with a single word.

The power flowed from me like water, like breathing, and like it had been waiting for me to wake it up.

It was easier than I expected. To be honest, it felt too easy.

I remembered my mother’s warning. "It is addictive. So use it only when you must."

I stopped.

I pulled my hands back from the window and closed my eyes. The power hummed beneath my skin, warm and hungry, like it was wanting more.

But I did not give in.

I stepped back from the window and closed it.

The silence rushed back in loud and heavy. I pressed my palm against the glass, and it was cool, steady, and unmoving.

I wished I could be that still, and that calm, but I was not. Inside, everything was spinning; the power, the fear, and the truth.

I took a breath and tried to hold on.

The rush of power in my mind and chest was quiet again. The leaves outside were still falling, and drifting down to the grass, but I was not the one making them fall anymore.

I stood there for a long time, with my hand pressed against my chest, feeling my heartbeat slow down.

I was learning, but I was also afraid.

I was afraid of what I could do, afraid of what I might become, and afraid that one day, I would not be able to stop.