"My mother was not a werewolf. She wasn't even an Omega," Emira said slowly, turning her face away from him. "But she lived like one. She took every bit of pain and humiliation just to keep me safe. And all of it… every part of it… was because of a Seer."
She drew in a deep breath before continuing.
"You know the history. After the First War, the White witches sacrificed themselves to bind the Dark witches' master. They did it so he wouldn't rise again. And the Dark witches who were left died protecting him. When it ended, the White witches didn't want another war, so they went to the Werewolves for help. Together, they hunted down the remaining Dark witches."
Her hands tightened on her knees.
"Only a few survived," she said quietly. "The ones who had some White witch blood mixed in. But even then, they weren't accepted. They were kept outside everything. Not part of the covens. Not part of the White line. Just… tolerated because killing them all would have been worse."
