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Chapter 60: The Price of Mercy
Last Updated:
2025-09-11 02:01:40
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Witch Among Wolves - The Alpha's Enemy Bride Chapter 65: Whispered Ruin
Dusk comes sudden and sharp, settling over the battered village like a shroud. The fires in the hall burn low, everyone gathered close for warmth and for courage. Thalia moves between tables, checking talismans, smoothing trembling shoulders, promising that hope is not gone.Outside, the mist thickens, swallowing the line of trees, pressing against the village like a living thing. The wolves bristle, tails tucked. Witches tighten their circles. The very air aches with waiting.It comes not as a scream, but a hush. The wind drops. The last bird falls silent. Then, from the fog, a figure steps—neither beast nor man, but the shadow of something hungry, its form always shifting, face turning inside out like a mask worn too long.Thalia freezes where she stands, a cold hand wrapping around her spine. Her breath fogs in the air, heart hammering against her ribs. The Herald does not glance at Rowan or the others—it comes straight for her, as if it knows her name, her soul, her every secret s
Witch Among Wolves - The Alpha's Enemy Bride Chapter 64: Among the Shattered
The village stands hunched beneath the twisted arms of ancient yew trees, its cottages clinging together like survivors after a storm. Smoke trickles from a handful of broken chimneys. As Thalia and her companions approach, every face that peers out is lined with exhaustion and raw suspicion.At the gate, a pair of wolves step forward—thin, battered, but alert. The leader, a gray-furred she-wolf with a ragged scar down her snout, shifts effortlessly to her human form: a wiry woman, her hair hacked short, eyes flinty with resolve.“You come from Silverpine?” she asks, voice low and wary.Rowan nods, stepping forward, his authority unhidden but gentle. “Rowan, Alpha of Silverpine. These are my pack—witch and wolf, friend and guest alike.”She studies them, gaze flicking over each face. Her nose wrinkles as she catches Emyr’s scent, but she does not flinch. “I’m Catrin. Alpha, for what’s left of us.”A handful of villagers gather, watching from doorways and shadows. Among them, two witch
Witch Among Wolves - The Alpha's Enemy Bride Chapter 63: The Road South
The letter arrives at dawn, carried by a storm-battered hawk and sealed with the spiraled sigil of the southern cabal. Rowan breaks the wax with a thumb, his eyes narrowing as he reads in the half-light.The Hollowing has returned. The Herald walks openly now—too many villages gone, too many wards shattered. If hope remains, it comes from you, from Silverpine. Bring your strongest. Bring your witch.The message is signed by Elowen herself, the careful script jagged with exhaustion or fear.Thalia reads the letter twice, her heart clenching. The quiet, hopeful spring seems to slip away beneath her feet. She can almost taste the distant smoke in the words, the plea running beneath them: Help us, before we are erased.Emyr is the first to speak, voice steady. “I know these roads. I can guide us—there are places even the Hollowing fears to linger, if you know the old signs.” His eyes flicker, deep and ancient. “And I owe a debt to the cabal.”Rowan nods, resolve hardening in the lines of
Witch Among Wolves - The Alpha's Enemy Bride Chapter 62: Naming
The river ice had long since broken and drifted away, leaving behind only mud and the sweet smell of new grass. Days lengthened, birds returned in flocks, and everywhere you looked, something was being mended—fields, fences, friendships.Thalia woke to sunlight and the sound of children’s laughter. Witch and wolf pups played together in the damp garden, muddy to their knees. Bram, shirtless and already sunburned, hammered beams into a new lodge while Mara argued loudly with Agatha over the best way to make carrot soup feed thirty.Even Fyre, pale but upright, shuffled out to the orchard most mornings. She leaned on Agatha’s arm, stubbornly refusing a cane, and called advice to the gardeners. There was color in her cheeks again, and when she pressed her cheek to Thalia’s shoulder, it was with genuine warmth, not trembling need.Today, everyone gathered on the grass in front of the packhouse for a midday meal—a rare pause, the green buzzing with spring insects and the energy of a commun
Witch Among Wolves - The Alpha's Enemy Bride Chapter 61: The Solace of Shadows
The hall has settled into a kind of cautious routine: the revenant is no longer the terror at the threshold but a guest no one quite knows how to greet. There’s a ring of salt around Fyre’s cot, and the witches come and go with offerings of tea, soup, and old songs. I watch, wary but curious, as the revenant kneels beside Fyre, who lies propped up on rag-stuffed pillows, her breath thin but peaceful for the first time in days.It—he, now, perhaps—speaks in low, lilting tones, telling Fyre stories of old times and older places. Of nights when the moon was red and wolves danced in the snow, of witches who wove their hearts into stones to keep their people safe. Fyre listens, eyelids fluttering, sometimes offering a story in return: of her childhood in the wild lands, of her daughter’s laughter (Aradia, though she does not name her), of mistakes she wishes she could undo.The more they speak, the more the revenant seems to change. Shadows gather and swirl, but his form becomes clearer: t
Witch Among Wolves - The Alpha's Enemy Bride Chapter 60: The Price of Mercy
Dawn bleeds into the hall, pink and thin as a scar. The air feels raw, restless—no one has slept, not really. Lanterns still gutter, talismans flicker dull at our necks, and even the wolves sit in a tight ring around the fire, watching the revenant like it might vanish with the first shaft of sunlight.Rowan stands by the door, arms folded, face set in that particular granite he wears when something doesn’t sit right. His eyes never leave the revenant, except to glance at me—searching, worried, half-daring me to look away.He breaks the silence first. “You say you want to stay. Why should we trust you? What do you offer us in return, beyond more fear in the night?”The revenant turns its face to him, shadow swirling, the suggestion of eyes and a mouth that is more memory than flesh. For a moment, it is silent. Then, softly: “I have seen empires rise and fall. I know the old ways—forgotten magic, stories that bind wounds, cures for hurts no one remembers how to name. I have wisdom. I h
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