The Witch and Her Four Dangerous Alphas

Chapter 69: Chapter 69: Slowly Losing themsleves

Alpha Blackthorn’s face sank, the shadows on his features deepening until his expression carried the weight of both anger and dread.

"It has to do with you too, Alpha Aeron," he said, his voice dropping into something cold and deliberate. "Today it is my son... tomorrow it will be yours. If we don’t act now, it will be us who are hunted. These witches think they can toy with us, take from us, and walk away without fear—someone needs to remind them of their place. I will find Kellan. And when I do, we—all of us—will have to come together to teach them a lesson they will never forget."

His hands curled into fists on the polished surface between them. "Do not forget, Alpha Aeron—because of these witches, our entire kind suffers. We can’t find our mates. Not one of the new generation has been able to... even my own son..." His voice cracked with restrained frustration. "If this continues, the werewolf race itself will..."

"Enough."

The word was a whipcrack, sharp enough to slice through the air. Aeron’s gaze, cold and cutting, locked onto him with sudden precision. "Shut up, Alpha Blackthorn. Get out of my sight... before I decide to take measures of my own."

The word "mate" was already triggering for him, but the man in front of him had made it even worse.

But the older Alpha didn’t rise. His jaw tightened, defiance flickering in his eyes. He couldn’t go back empty-handed—not while Kellan was still in enemy hands. "Aeron... you don’t understand. I can’t walk out of here without..."

Another presence shifted in the room, heavy and deliberate. A shadow moved behind him, and a firm hand landed on his shoulder—not a gesture of comfort, but of quiet threat.

"If you can’t move," a voice drawled near his ear, "should I personally escort you back?"

The older Alpha’s expression faltered, his shoulders stiffening as he turned just enough to see who stood behind him.

was as sharp as a

Blackthorn muttered, the stiffness

strode toward the door, he tossed one last line over his shoulder. "We will have to do something about these witches, Aeron...

door shut behind him, leaving his warning hanging in the air

Aeron’s gaze slid to

witch. The one who

bastard dies or not, Luca, it has nothing to do with us. Let Blackthorn cry to the winds if he

should see how far they’ve fallen, how much they’ve ruined themselves. Instead of facing their own filth, they point their fingers at someone else. Maybe it’s the Moon Goddess herself who refuses to grant them mates... and I wouldn’t

heavier. He lowered his voice. "Brother... I don’t care about anyone else. I only care about her." His jaw tightened. "I’ve

words carried a quiet ache, one Aeron rarely heard from

year has passed," Luca went on, his voice edged with both hope and pain. "A year without a single trace from her.

the table, forgotten. His eyes shadowed, the weight of an old grief pressing into every

His mate. Their mate.

the Moon Goddess had taken pity on them—granting them what most wolves would die for—they had lost her. And not because fate was cruel,

the hollow ache of regret... and the knowledge that somewhere in this vast, unforgiving

kind of power that could make lesser packs bow without a single drop of blood spilled. But that was the

knew the

was gone had