The Witch and Her Four Dangerous Alphas

Chapter 67: Chapter 67: Brain-Dead Alphas

Selene’s movement stilled at the mention of the name, Alpha Aeron. It was really absurd that someone was asking whether she had heard it or not. She did not only hear but...

She had never thought she would hear that name again, especially not like this, after a year, and from the mouth of her enemy.

For a fraction of a second, her eyes changed just enough for Sara, watching from the corner, to notice. But almost immediately, they returned to their usual calm, like the stillness of a lake after a ripple.

Kellan’s smirk widened, certain he had just found her weak point. He was always right—if anyone didn’t fear his father, then they definitely feared them, the Dusk Draven alphas.

"Ah... so you have heard of them. Good. Then you know you’re not just in trouble... you’re already dead."

Selene stepped closer until her shadow drowned his. The faint shimmer of silver bled into her irises, making him flinch before he could stop himself.

"If they’re so dangerous, then they’d better hurry," she murmured.

Then came the smile—cold, sharp, and promising pain. "Because if they take too long... there won’t be enough of you left for them to save."

Her fist struck him, again and again. Each blow was a solid, merciless crack against flesh and bone, the sound echoing through the damp stone walls.

Sara’s stomach churned at the wet thud of impact, at the way blood pattered against the floor like rain. Chains rattled violently with every strike, and Kellan’s smug laughter bled into low snarls, then into the guttural, broken sound of a man losing his arrogance.

for mercy. His lips was split open, his skin blooming with purples and reds from head

day’s work... the fastest way to pry out the

hair and yanked his head back until his neck strained. "How many witches does your father

"Witches... What

dawned, and for the first time, there was a shadow of unease in his gaze. Yet his lips curved in a

witch." He laughed, the sound jagged and wet,

despite the chains biting into his wrists. "A witch? But how? I thought your kind were nothing but pathetic little rats... hiding in your holes, too scared to even fight back. Or did you finally hire some other race to do

witch. But you... silver hair and eyes like a blade—what the fuck are you?

mind, witches weren’t

magic they could barely keep safe.

were broken first. Stripped of their magic drop by drop, forced to live long enough to watch

was nothing but scar tissue, fed only enough to keep them alive so their

night as young alphas learned to "play" with them the way hunters toy with cornered

He made games out of it. He would whisper promises

them barely conscious, forcing them to heal so he could start all over again. And when they were too broken to fight back, he

across Kellan’s cheek, jerking his head sideways. If he hadn’t been an

you gone deaf?