Scaring tales and whispers from the past filled her mind. Ancient lullabies and words of magic had filled her childhood. She had seen her mother's wounded arms, and every time she would ask about them. Her father would kiss his mate's arms and would tell his daughter how brave her mother was.

Young Laurel couldn't comprehend that outside her house, her little garden, and that forest, wicked people lived. Her father trained her every single day, and her mother taught her about herbs that could heal but also cause infections and bleedings. At first, it was all a game to her, and later, a way to protect her family.

It wasn't until she learned the truth behind those marks that she understood how great her duty was. The Huntress woke up the night she heard of an old story. The night she learned that monsters roamed on the earth.

Laurel's mother was born in a small village where humans and witches lived peacefully. She had a troubled childhood, and she was the youngest of eight children. Both of her parents possessed powers, but none of their children could do the simplest spell. When she turned 15, she felt something sharp and hungry rising inside her soul, desperate for release and hungry for power.

Her parents tried to tame the power that terrified them. They saw how their daughter changed in the way she spoke and her denial to live among humans. She believed that her powers were a gift given by the gods, meant only for her, the chosen one.

One day a few months after her fifteenth birthday, she went to the woods to collect herbs. Out of a sudden, a few farm boys appeared and started teasing her for her difference and her fearless manners.

She, afraid of no one, didn't hesitate to use her powers against them. They beat her and harassed her, always laughing. Her attacks and screams only made them attack her fiercer. Until all her scruples dissolved, and she let the magic to burn her veins. Strong vortexes encircled them, and the dark, grey clouds covered the previously crystal blue sky.

The pleads of the farmer boys, and the terror in their eyes fed the power inside her, and she didn't stop until it was pleased. The villagers found her sitting on the ground, inside a circle of blood and dismemberment limbs. A wicked grin was on her face, and her bloody eyelashes stared in bliss.

No one could save her from what followed. Not her mother's cries, and not her father's pleading. The brother that stood in front of her to protect her from the stones fell dead among the rest of the bodies.

Part of her watched the scene as if it was a bird passing by that village. A part of her was screaming inside, understanding the madness that had taken over, but a third part, the stronger one, was feeding on the pain and sorrow.

The verdict was clear: death in the pyre.

She felt the fire closing her, licking her torn dress and playing with her hair. She saw distorted faces falling on the ground, shouting things she couldn't hear. Her skin started getting hot while the flames were traveling across her tied wrists.

The last thing she saw before she found the strength to beam out of that scalding prison was her mother, running toward the pyre to die with her youngest child.

''We'll be there in ten minutes,'' a voice said and brought Laurel back to reality.

Burning someone was the worst punishment her mother would give. Every time she wanted to avenge, she would burn that person, as if taking revenge for the fire that once burned her. That meant that these witches had done something terrible, according to her mother.

She hadn't had enough time to explain those thoughts to James. After Thomas' call, they dressed up and took some weapons, while James mind-linked some of the warriors to come with them. They drove, hoping to save someone. Thomas was there along with Alan, the werewolf that assisted in the cave, and the two men tried to rescue the witches.

However, the young woman knew that there would hardly be any survivors. Sadly, the innocent ones weren't immune, and once the fire started, no one was indestructible.

The moment the wheels stopped spinning and before James could turn off the vehicle's engine, Laurel had opened her door and jumped out of the car. With a sword in her right arm, in case her mother's followers were there, she marched fast and carefully. Werewolves from the few cars that followed them got out and started spreading according to James' orders.

She heard people screaming in agony and traced the muffled sound to a burning cave. The malevolent flames had circled the wooden house, and Laurel understood that its owners were trapped inside, unable to escape through the door. Seconds were passing, and she couldn't find a safe way to get inside. As drops of sweat licked her forehead, she took a deep breath and focused on the ruddy blazes.

''Water,'' she thought and directed her left palm toward the door.

Soon, water appeared and extinguished little flames.

''That would do for now,'' she murmured and walked fast.

With a kick, she broke the door, and dark grey smoke rushed to her, clouding her vision. The pleading cries intensified, and with a light blow, she cleared the air enough to see around.

Maybe Sara was partially right. She was the Supergirl.

She noticed first a woman around her age a couple of meters to her left, and through the fire, she walked and helped her stand.

''Run,'' Laurel screamed and cleared the blazing path until the door.

''Help!''

''I got you,'' she said as she neared a young girl and an older woman. She must have been five years old, and yet, she didn't look terrified.

She put her sword to its scabbard, picked up the girl with one arm, and lifted the older one, who seemed to limp.

''Come on, you are safe now,'' Laurel encouraged them as they were walking outside. ''Stay away from the fire. Go to the cars. There are people there who will help you. '' She showed them the direction of the cars, and after making sure that the three women understood her, she went on.

James had informed her through their mind link that his men had found another five women, and he had saved a woman with her baby.

Thomas rushed to her, unable to breathe.

''It's hell! I'm sorry, Laurel. I couldn't stop her. She came fast and left. Your mother had planned it precisely and wasted no time,'' the young man explained.

''No, it's not the time for this conversation. We must save as many people as we can.'' Her face was hard and stern, while her eyes scanned the fires and her eyes tried to pick up a heartbeat.

He nodded in understanding.

''I'm going in that direction,'' he informed her and left to the west side of the village.

Laurel kept walking, watching the burned houses when she smelled it. Burned flesh. The smell was becoming stronger than anything else, and a feeling of nausea made her stop. She placed her hand on her stomach and suppressed the urge to throw up.

''Laurel!''

The sound of her name startled her. Some werewolves were calling for her.

''We need water,'' one of them said.

She swallowed and made her nausea go away. Half an hour passed, and they couldn't extinguish the fire. Laurel was trying, but it was very challenging to create such amounts of water. The village was huge, and the fire had spread to the woods. The men tried to limit the fire, while others, along with the survivors, brought water from the river that flowed nearby in bowls, bottles, or anything they could find. Desperate times need desperate measures. The tiniest quantity of water was necessary. They knew that the houses were gone, but they had to protect the forest.

Some of the witches assisted Laurel, and together they created more water.

She caught a glimpse of James and Alan as they tried to clean the ground to stop that burning hell. Suddenly, a low heartbeat made her pause. Someone was alive but barely breathing.

She let her instincts lead her, and she found herself in front of the elder's cave. Amid the madness, she had forgotten of the old woman.

Using her powers, she cleared the path and entered the once imposing house. Burned bodies were scattered, and she proceeded carefully.

The elder witch was kneeling on the ground, trying to block every sound by covering her ears. She was chanting ancient prayers. The fire was only a meter away, and the end was near. Laurel grabbed her arm, and the old woman finally looked up.

''I don't need you to save me, '' she sputtered.

''If that's how you want to play, fine,'' a cold voice that not even Laurel could recognize answered. ''Why did my mother cause this? What did you do?''

''I've known your mother for a very long time. I was there when they tried to burn her.''

A wave of shock showered her, but she kept a silent face.

''You knew her. How-'' she stopped as the realization hit her. ''I always wondered if it was the right thing to come to you. And then, I started wondering how could my mother know that I was coming for her. It was all you, wasn't it? You told her about my plan. You!'' she realized with a hoarse voice.

The elder witch laughed with an ugly, piercing sound.

''You should have never trusted me, Huntress!''

Fury and rage filled her mind, and with a move of her hand, she stopped the fire that was dangerously nearing them.

With a clenched jaw and an icy stare, she grabbed the witch and pinned her to the wall. Her nails were piercing her skin, and her legs couldn't touch the ground.

''What are you going to do to an old lady?'' She smiled playfully.

''Nothing, if you play nice. You can't escape. Now, break the curse.''

It was Laurel's turn to smile. The witch hadn't expected that. She thought that the Huntress would torture her, try to scare her, or yell, but not this.

''I-''

''Stop it. I know you lied to me multiple times. Break the curse, witch!'' she ordered and hit the woman on the wall.

''You are only proving what a monster you are,'' she spitted, flinching.

''Do it, or I'll make sure that you will live long enough to be tortured every single day for everything you have done!'' Her eyes were dark and ominous, and her tone implied that she meant every single word.

In a swift move, the elder managed to grab her enemy's hands and started whispering the words she had long learned. The two women, interlocked in a strange way, stayed focused as a breeze moved across the house, and the fire seemed to stop, only for the flames to rise hungrier than before.

Searing pain filled Laurel's body, and her first reaction was to let the witch go, but the elder's arms were holding her too tight.

''Let her free.''

Those were the last words, and Laurel felt an immense amount of power exploding inside her. She felt as if she could see the world again, more clearly this time. Everything seemed more hopeful, and for the first time in years, the future wasn't dressed in black.

''Now, one last thing. Break the bond between James and me. This craziness must end.''

''I can't. No one can, except for you.''

''Is this another trick?''

''No. It's the truth. You are the only one who can end this, but there is a price you must pay.''

Laurel laughed bitterly.

''Of course. There is always a price. What is it this time? Do I have to die afterward? Do I have to run away? Do I have to give up everything? What?'' she roared.

''It's very simple.'' The old woman smiled. Her death was coming, but, at least, she would have the pleasure to destroy the Huntress one more time. ''You must kill an innocent soul. Someone who has never killed or intentionally hurt another person. For the spell to be stronger, you must sacrifice because that person must be someone you hold in your heart.''