The Witch and Her Four Dangerous Alphas

Chapter 147: Chapter 147: I Will Create Hell for You

Selene’s POV~

My heart almost stopped when I realized his gaze had landed on me. It was not the kind of glance that comes and goes, not the fleeting sweep that should have moved on after a few seconds.

His eyes did not leave me, and with every passing moment the weight of them only grew stronger, until it felt like they were digging into my skin, cutting through the act I was wearing like a thin cloak.

My heart began to flutter wildly, beating against my ribs like a trapped bird. I hated that feeling, hated that these wolves could always stir something inside me without even trying.

I had trained myself to keep calm, to play the part of the quiet innocent human girl who could not even lift her head before alphas, let alone meet their gaze.

But in that moment I forgot all of it. I forgot the mask. I forgot the act. My eyes, foolish and weak, remained on his as if caught in a snare.

Why was he looking at me with such intensity? Did he know something? Had he already guessed? Or was it just a casual glance that my mind twisted into something more dangerous?

My chest grew tight as the seconds stretched, and still he did not release me. His gaze was like fire and ice both, burning and freezing me at once, and I felt as if he was peeling back my skin to see the truth beneath.

At last, perhaps out of mercy, he looked away. The invisible chain that had held me snapped, and I let out a shaky breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding.

of the role I

wolves are

already feel the weight of two more gazes pressing on me

if I dared to meet their eyes I would only draw more suspicion. So instead I shifted my position slightly, trying to sink

I tried to hide, a different kind of satisfaction stirred inside me until it reached my lips in the faintest trace

yet. The guest they were waiting for would never arrive, and the thought alone filled me with a dark,

powerful alpha they

alpha would survive now, how he would stand tall again after being left in such

or were dragged into the mud to be trampled beneath the feet of others. Strength was everything.

taken that from

wound to his pride, the crack in his carefully built image. I had not killed him—no, I never would. Death was too easy, too merciful. I wanted more than that. I wanted

wanted him to carry the same pain my mother had carried, the pain that had carved me into

no hell after death that could punish them enough. I do not believe in it. That is why I will never

meaning to, and that was when I suddenly collided with

expression that made my chest tighten. She looked terrified, though she