Fated To Not Just One, But Three

Chapter 222: New Face

Olivia’s POV

I nervously stepped into the room. Alpha Damien followed close behind and quietly shut the door behind us. The room was dimly lit, the walls lined with shelves full of jars, herbs, strange stones, and things I couldn’t name. The smell was sharp—earthy and strange, like dried plants mixed with smoke and something older.

Seated on the floor in the center of the room was the witch. She was old, with long silver hair tied back loosely. Her eyes were strange—too dark, too deep—and they watched me like they could see every part of me, even the parts I didn’t want anyone to see.

"Sit," she said, her voice low and rough like sandpaper. She didn’t raise her head, just motioned to the small cushion in front of her.

I hesitated, glancing once at Alpha Damien, but he gave me a small nod.

Slowly, I stepped forward and sat down in front of her.

She began chanting in a language I didn’t understand. Her voice was firm, loud, and the air in the room seemed to shift with each word she spoke. I could feel it—like the air was pulsing around me.

Then she stopped.

Her eyes opened and looked directly into mine.

"You must give consent," she said. "Without it, nothing I do will work. Your body must accept the spell willingly."

I stared at her, frozen. My mouth felt dry. Every part of me wanted to run, to scream, to tell her no.

But I couldn’t.

I nodded slowly. "I give my consent for a change of appearance only for a year," I whispered.

The witch didn’t say anything else. She just stood and pointed to the small bed in the corner of the room.

"Lie down," she said.

I swallowed hard and took a shaky step back.

The bed was small, plain, with faded covers and a pillow that looked ancient.

"Will it hurt?" I asked, turning to her.

"No," she said softly. "It’s only for a year. You’ll wake up with a new face, but the old one will still be there... waiting to return."

That didn’t comfort me much.

But I did as she said, walking slowly to the bed and lying down. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.

I heard her footsteps come closer.

Then, she placed something warm and thick over my face.

It was a clay pot. I could feel the heavy rim of it resting against my forehead and chin.

And then—darkness.

Total, complete darkness.

echoing in my ears. I could feel something moving... not just around

Suddenly, the chanting stopped.

felt the pot lift

she let

the witch said proudly. "It was

pounded

reached up, hesitating as I touched my face. It felt... the

I knew

My breathing quickened.

in his hand was a mirror. When he reached the bed, he stretched out

and took the mirror from Alpha Damien’s

toward my face. A thousand thoughts raced through my head—What if I didn’t recognize myself? What if I looked like a

slowly lifted

And froze.

me wasn’t mine. It was the face of an Indian

so—but

she carried a secret. Her nose was delicate, perfectly shaped. And

the most

She looked older.

Not by much—but enough.

no longer looked like an

it belonged to someone in her early twenties. An Indian woman, she looked so Indian that

I didn’t look innocent

someone who had seen the world and learned how to

some ways... maybe

the sight of her—of me—left me

began, but the words caught in

well," he said. "You look completely different. No one

I slowly lowered the mirror

your hair to its natural color... take off the blonde... remember it was only your face that was changed... nothing else," the witch instructed while I remained silent. Everything still felt

Damien turned to her. "Thank

gave a quiet, raspy laugh. "Hope you’ve kept your

and gave her my clothes. "Yes. The lands are now

smile. "Good," she said with a raspy voice. "I’ll do it quickly and hand it over to your

unable to tear my eyes

really who I

just a disguise—it

turned back to me.

looked up

That was it?

Just like that?

little shaky, and followed him toward the door. One last glance at the mirror in my hand made

me for the next year, I would