Eleven
Iris Miller
There was a prophecy about me. Me, and an immortal werewolf. I didn’t know what to think about that. I was holding a glowing book with my name on it. A few years ago, before immortals were exposed, I never would have thought that this was a thing. “Can I read it?” I asked Malaki, looking from the book to him.
He hesitated. “I don’t know. Most of the time, humans aren’t part of prophecy. But it’s letting you touch it and nothing has happened, so that’s a good sign.”
“There’s a chance the book could do something to me?” I asked.
He nodded. “Books can be enchanted so that only certain people read them. Knowledge is power, and witches take that very seriously.”
“It seems fine.”
“Open it and see,” he said.
I tried opening the book. It refused. I tried again. Th
