The Witch and Her Four Dangerous Alphas

Chapter 192: Chapter 192: Truth about Witch Mother

Serena’s POV

After Vaelen left, I sat down again on the bed. The room was quiet. Only the sound of the wind touching the window.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my thoughts. I told myself not to think too much now. Not about him. Not about them.

I had chosen this path myself. I would walk it till the end. No matter how hard it became.

The brothers... I pushed them into a corner of my mind. I’d think about them later. When I was ready. For now, I had work to do.

I pulled out a small notebook from under my pillow. It was simple, with pages filled with scribbles and glued notes. I opened it and started pasting the new papers I had collected over the past few days.

On every page, there were names. Words. Symbols only I could understand.

In the center, written darker than all others, was one name... Elarliya.

My so-called fake mother.

My hand stopped for a moment when I looked at that name. My chest felt tight again, but I didn’t let it stop me.

A week ago, I finally found out the truth.

We had been attacked from all sides. Everything was going fine before that... too fine, maybe. Then suddenly, chaos. And in the middle of it, I saw the sign. The same energy, the same power signature I once knew too well.

It was her.

The witch helping the werewolves was the witch mother.

For a long time, I couldn’t even believe it. My heart refused. The woman who had raised me, taught me, lied to me, abandoned me... was the same one behind all of this.

The pain turned to anger that night. The kind that burns quietly, steady, deep.

I gripped my pen tighter as the memory came back. The smell of fire. The screams. The blood.

I had been badly injured. I remember falling, the world turning black. And when I woke up later, she was there. Smiling at me like nothing had happened. Pretending to care.

And I fell for her trick... once again.

For days, she was feeding me lies that I was her daughter, even going as far as to change my appearance... my existence.

So I could perfectly fit in her pathetic story. And I did, without even realizing it. She had completely manipulated my mind and my memories. All I remembered was only her and no one else.

I was weak then. I believed her. I almost did.

But she forgot one thing.

truly... even if you are the most powerful witch... because you are still

soul remembered what she had done.

see her lies falling apart,

almost had me," I whispered, writing the words

mark everything... dates, places, spells, faces, everything

fingers cramped. Until my hand started shaking. But I

one who pulled me out from the ruins during the rogues’ attack. I didn’t even

wolves, I saw flashes... of battles, magic, symbols from the old spellbooks I’d trained with. Pieces of my old self coming

Those memories saved me.

then how much she had messed with my mind. How deeply she had planted her

Never again will I

and drew a small mark... a spiral inside

I whispered, closing the book, "I’ll remember

on my lap. The silence

long while, I knew

alphas or

beside me burned low, its flame flickering softly against the wall. I leaned back, my hands resting on the closed notebook, my

needed a plan. I couldn’t just sit and wait

to go after her myself. But to do that, I needed to understand what she really

thought about it, the

That woman was obsessed.

Not with me.

But with him.

My father.

know if he was really my father

he avoided them. When I asked

more than

my father, then what kind of relationship did he have with my real

make

the child of the man she loved, then how could she raise me? How could she smile at me every morning, touch

came back, the way she used to hum old songs while brushing my hair, calling me

ached at the thought. It had felt

I whispered, my

low, to use a child like that, to pretend to be a mother, just to win the affection of a man who never cared in

kind of love was

I muttered. "No. That’s not

still something that

My real mother.

Sameera.

tighten. And yet, in all of

Elara.

of my so-called

Not Sameera.