Defy The Alpha(s)

Chapter 201: Power Like This

Ivy let out a distressed cry, "Goddess help me, my roommates have lost their minds!"

But Lila only grinned wolfishly, replying, "At least you still recognize us as your roommates."

Ivy shot her a glare, but it wasn’t half as fierce as it should have been; her defenses were already crumbling.

Daisy said, "Defeating Elsie won’t be easy, but it’s not impossible."

"How?" Ivy demanded. "Have you forgotten who Elsie is? She’s basically the mate for one of the cardinal alphas. She’s got the Alpha King’s backing. You? Us? We’ve all got none. She won’t even need to lift a finger; she’s got power, influence, and people to do her bidding."

Violet’s eyes flashed with determination. "Then we’ll cut off that backing. We’ll dismantle those influences one by one. Without them, she’s nothing."

Ivy scoffed. "And the Alpha King?"

"We’ll figure that out as we go," Daisy said with forced optimism.

"Thought as much," Ivy shook her head, unimpressed.

But Daisy persisted, "We won’t achieve this in a single day, but this is our plan for now, and we’ll work toward it. For the moment, we’ve got bigger worries, like finding a place to actually live." She glanced up at the rotting ceiling just as a drip of nasty water landed on her cheek, making Ivy recoil with disgust.

Daisy wiped it off, grimacing.

outside. "It’s still pouring out there. Even if we manage to hire workers, they can’t do repairs in this weather.

Lila piped up, "I

three startled voices echoed in unison, their

throat. "My magic can

Ivy’s eyes lit up. "So you can

place? I’m not some witch about to chant ’bibbidi-bobbidi-boo’ while waving brooms and mops. I work with the elements, Ivy. Nature

lowered herself, resting her palm on

were once strong here. I’ll call upon them to reinforce what was lost so that

The wood beneath her hand gave a

decay began to reverse. The splintered planks smoothed out, their brittle, discolored surfaces darkening into a rich oak. It spread like creeping frost, the weak, termite-infested wood seemingly consumed by something

swallowed up. But all they felt was a soft tingling, like

on, securing the rest

sign of the gaping cracks that once tried

only the beginning

changed. The stale, heavy scent of mold and decay gave way to something fresher, as if the house

like thread being reeled back into an invisible spindle. Dust motes danced in

peeled away and withered before dissolving into fine powder. Thin lines of new growth traced over the rotted beams, merging with the decayed wood. As the layers fused, crumbling plaster filled in, cracks sealing until

floor. With