Episode 4

—Gabriel’s POV—

I scanned the surroundings, searching for the source of the magical attacks. That's when my gaze locked with the most breathtaking woman I had ever laid eyes on. I had anticipated coming face-to-face with the coven queen due to the sheer intensity of the magic unleashed upon us. However, the lady before me bore no resemblance to the images of the coven queen plastered across the walls of our wolf pack.

Her beauty left me speechless, and I yearned for a closer look at her.

Back at the alpha's den, the hatred toward witches went deep. Though I couldn't recall the exact reason for our deep-seated hatred, I had been raised to despise them and trained to combat their kind, with the ultimate goal of killing their coven queen.

"But I thought the coven queen was dead!" I exclaimed, directing my question at my elder brother, Aiden, as we skillfully dodged the barrage of fireballs hurled at us. According to legends, a witch's fireball would turn us to chalk upon impact, while their ice balls would transform us into solid ice.

"I thought so too, brother! These powers definitely belong to someone else. But who could possess such immense power?" Aiden asked, avoiding the attacks alongside me. It was at that moment our eyes met.

…………….

"You seriously believe the words of a fragile girl?" My brother questioned, a tinge of annoyance evident in his voice. We had returned to our den, a grand mansion shared by my brother, me, and our father, who served as the pack's leader. Once our father passed, Aiden would assume the leadership role.

"That frail girl possesses the powers of a Coven Queen," I asserted.

"She could be her daughter, for all I know," he retorted, dismissing my observation.

"Nevertheless, she was remarkably attractive, brother. It's a sentiment I've never held for witches before," I remarked, patting Aiden's shoulder as he sat in a chair, tending to his wounds.

"That's because they are ugly. It is forbidden to find a witch attractive, Gabriel. You're aware of that," he stated, causing me to roll my eyes.

"I still don’t get it. I never have, and I doubt I ever will," I scoffed, to which he merely stared at me.

"You don't need to understand it. None of us do. We're simply bred to hate each other, and that's the way it has been for centuries," he replied, wincing slightly as he attempted to extract a splinter from his shoulder.

"I do hope to see her face again," I murmured. Before my brother could respond, we were interrupted by a servant, assigned to our father's personal quarters.

"Sir Gabriel, your father requests your presence," he informed, prompting a silent exchange of glances between my brother and me. I wondered why our old man had called on me this time. It was usually when he needed assistance with his business matters.

I walked through the corridors until I reached my father's room, where he sat, enveloped in a cloud of smoke from his usual substance.

"You called on me, Father," I announced, causing him to swivel his chair, facing me.

"My company requires attention," he declared, and inwardly, I groaned. I detested the thought of having to deal with the affairs of that place. It meant interacting with humans who struggled to accept the fact that I was a billionaire Alpha werewolf.

"I need you to oversee the staff, sign important documents, and initiate legal proceedings against rival companies. Things have fallen out of order due to the incompetence of the person I hired. Typical of a human," he grumbled.

"Ugh... humans," I inwardly groaned at the mere thought of it.

—Serena’s POV—

"Hello, sister," Amanda's laughter filled the room as she stood by my bed, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

"I thought I had locked that door," I mumbled, realizing that I had forgotten to secure it the previous night. I had been avoiding my sister lately, lacking the strength and time to deal with her drama or endure a pointless reunion.

Grace, the palace healer, had been diligently working on my legs, employing a week's worth of herbs, concoctions, and therapies. Finally, I was able to stand on my own feet again.

"I've been waiting for you to come out of your hiding place so we can finally talk," she said, strolling over to the corner of my room and taking a seat on my chair.

I sat up, snapping my fingers to illuminate the room, eager to get a proper look at her. I couldn't help but notice the blood staining her clothes, covering her from head to toe. Her lips were also smeared with crimson.

"What have you done, Amanda?" I asked, my anger rising at the thought that she might have resumed terrorizing her own people.

"What I do best," she smirked, casually licking her fingers. Frustration surged through me, and I instinctively attempted to strike her with a bolt of lightning using my magic. However, she swiftly employed her own magic, creating an invisible shield to protect herself until I released my attack.

"You've become stronger, sis. And angrier," she commented, clearly taken aback but still wearing a smirk.

"And I'll ensure you face the consequences if you don't leave my people alone," I retorted, my voice dripping with determination. She burst into wicked laughter.

"My people?" she mocked, staring at me with a contemptuous expression.

"Honey, I'm here to stay, and by extension, these people are now mine," she flashed me a wide grin, her presence grating on my nerves.

"Not while I'm around," I spat, but she only laughed and vanished into thin air.

Days went by without a word from her. Rumors started circulating in the community about missing children of witches, yet no one had seen or heard from Amanda. However, she left me a note that carried a chilling message: "Come for me with all your might and fight me. If you want to protect your people, you must eliminate me. Oh, and I have the children. Kisses." Anger surged through me as I read her words, and I couldn't help but wonder where to begin.

There was only one place that came to mind where I could potentially find her. She had always been drawn to parties, humans, clubs, and, above all, mischief.

"Ugh... humans," I muttered, shuddering at the mere thought of venturing into the complicated yet fragile world of humankind.