The Witch and Her Four Dangerous Alphas

Chapter 68

Chapter 68: Chapter 68: Alpha of the Blackthorn Pack

Selene suddenly stepped back, her shadow peeling away from his as if she’d just lost interest. But the mutter that left her lips was low and dangerous.

"It seems you don’t open your mouth with beating..."

Before Kellan could smirk again, she raised her hand and bit into the pad of her own finger, deep enough for blood to well bright and scarlet. In the same motion, she seized his chin, forcing his head up until his neck strained painfully.

Her smile was sweet in a way that made Kellan’s skin crawl.

"Now... when you open your eyes again, be ready to tell the truth," she whispered. "Or I’ll show you a thousand more methods like this."

Kellan jerked against the chains, but she was already moving, her blood trailing in a deliberate pattern across his sweat-slick skin. A strange symbol began to form on his forehead, the lines sharp and exact, each one drawn with unshaking precision.

The moment the last stroke connected, the mark brightened faintly, glowing like a dying ember... and then sank into his skin, vanishing as though it had never been there.

Kellan’s composure broke. He thrashed violently, eyes wild.

"What the fuck are you doing, bitch?! I told you—I don’t know anything! We don’t have any witches! Let me go!" His voice cracked into something that almost sounded like fear.

Selene didn’t even look at him. "We’ll see whether you truly know nothing... or whether your lies just ran out of time."

She turned, already walking toward the doorway. "Come, Sara. Leave him here with his misery."

enough that his chains were just faint rattles

gave a

strict discipline, and yet even she had never reached the level needed to draw that symbol. It was an advanced level of witchcraft that only some old witches

in front of her was

a heartbeat later when

of a man who had thought himself untouchable. It was followed by pleading, the words tumbling over

an explanation. She

this... this was the highest tier. A spell that didn’t just twist sight and sound but turned the mind inward—forcing the victim to feel every ounce of pain they had ever inflicted on

scream they’d dragged from

lash, every bite,

someone had prayed for it

those memories weren’t something he watched from a safe distance. They became his reality. The roles reversed, and the torturer

manipulate a mind so deeply without shattering it completely. And the darker a

suffer more

names, and horrors. The things he’d done to young witches weren’t just cruel. They were... depraved. And now,

knew exactly

tightened. Her eyes misted despite herself, unbidden

wrists were nothing but raw rings of scar tissue from iron manacles. The way she had flinched at the sound of a man’s voice. How she had died within a week

now—it was just another den of

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