The Witch and Her Four Dangerous Alphas

Chapter 66: Chapter 66: Ever Heard of Silver Dawn Pack

The morning light filtered weakly through the thin curtains. The room smelled faintly of a calm scent that was diffused in the air. Selene was still deep in the warmth of her blanket, her breathing slow, her dreams untroubled.

That peace shattered with the pounding of fists against the door.

"Selene!" The voice was sharp and frantic; it was Sara’s. "Selene, wake up!"

Selene’s eyes cracked open, her body reluctant to move. "If you’re not dying," she muttered into the pillow, "you’d better have breakfast in your hands."

But Sara’s voice cut any thought of laziness short. "Something’s wrong...something really bad!"

Selene sat up slowly, stretching like a cat. "What is it this time?"

Sara didn’t wait to be invited. She rushed in, hair a tangled mess, breathless from running. "The pack...Kellan’s pack...they’ve gone mad. His father....he’s furious. He’s calling on every wolf in the city to find us. He’s... he’s hunting witches, Selene. Every single one."

Selene’s head tilted. "Hunting witches?"

"Yes! After last night, you beat his son’s friends half to death, and we kidnapped his precious heir he’s demanding we return Kellan immediately. And if we don’t..." Sara’s voice faltered. "He says he’ll kill two witches before the day ends."

Selene’s expression didn’t change. For a heartbeat, silence stretched, heavy as a blade before the swing. Then she scoffed. "They really can’t wait, can they? At least let their darling boy rot for one day."

Sara’s hands clenched at her sides. "Selene, he’s serious. You know what he’s capable of."

"And what about what they’ve been doing to us for years?" Selene’s voice dropped, sharp as steel. "They’ve kept witches caged, bled us for our magic, and treated witches like currency. What does he take us for? Toys?"

her lip, unsure if she

over the bed and stood, the morning chill brushing against her bare skin. "If that old bastard of an

no heat—just a

emerged from the washroom, silver hair still damp, clinging to

slowness. The knife in her hand caught the morning

low, almost

slice, chewing slowly. "We’ll move when I decide. Not when

paced, wringing her hands, every sound from the street making her flinch. But Selene just kept eating, calm in

in the trash with a lazy flick of Selene’s wrist. She

worrying the edge of her sleeve. "Where are you

the chair legs scraping softly against the floor. "To check

the house, the damp stone sweating under the low, swaying lightbulb. Wolfsbane hung heavy in the air, its acrid sting sharp enough

was still

Barely.

the chair, and binding his legs so tightly that

heavily drugged him, but

with

chair rattled against the

up," she said, her voice quiet enough to make it worse. "I know you’re not

lifted slowly. His eyes were sharp, calculating, and far too smug for

voice was thick