Chapter 122

“Interesting little thing, aren’t you?” I heard the witch’s voice behind me.

Slowly, I turned around.

And nearly sagged in relief. The witch wasnt looking at me at all She was still muttering to herself while

earching through the back room now.

“Where is that damned bucket…”

She disappeared deeper into the shadows again.

I moved instantly back to the cabinet. My eyes flew across the silver labels. Blair. Beth. Bree…Come on.

Then I finally spotted it–the vial with Beatrice’s name on it.

Relief slammed into me. I grabbed the vial and slipped it deep into the hidden pocket of my dress.

Then my eyes caught another name.

Stella.

Without thinking, I grabbed that vial too. Just in case.

Both disappeared into my dress seconds before I heard footsteps. I shoved the cabinet door shut and hurried back o my chair just as the witch limped back in.

She shoved a broom and a bucket into my hands.

“Clean it up!” she barked.

I didn’t argue. I started mopping up the mess I’d made on the flook. When I was finished, she shoved me back into he chair and began moving her hands in strange patterns around my head and chest.

My pulse thundered as she spent the next hour testing herbs, smoke, and oils. But every time, the result was the

¡ame.

Nothing. The phantom wolf remained hidden.

By the time Declan returned, the witch looked exhausted and furious.

“Well?” Declan demanded.

The witch glared at him. “I already told you. I don’t see anything dangerous.” She pointed at me irritably. “Her wolf is suppressed. Her magic is stable. Sometimes scents just change after a powerful ritual.”

Declan’s jaw flexed. He clearly hated that answer.

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1:34 pm

The witch shrugged. “Maybe you should just learn to live with it.”

Declan stared at me for a long, quiet second. He was still suspicious. Still watching. Finally, he exhaled sharply.

“…Apparently, I’ll have to.”

He sounded deeply unhappy about it. Good The less he understood, the better.

We walked back through the corridors, the atmosphere between us heavy enough to choke on. Declan’s hand tayed locked on my lower back–a possessive, constant reminder that he didn’t trust me as far as he could throw

ne.
Honestly? He shouldn’t.

“I want to go to the library,” I said, finally breaking the long stretch of silence.

Declan’s head snapped toward me. “The last time you went to the library, you tried to run.”

I gave him a bored shrug, keeping my expression flat. “You already dealt with Stella. It’s not like I have anyone eft to help me escape.”

Something dark flashed in his eyes. He studied me for a long beat before finally nodding. “Fine.”

The question left my mouth before I could think better of it. “How is Stella doing? Is she all right?”

Declan didn’t answer.

“You promised she’d stay alive if I stopped fighting you,” I reminded him, my voice tight.

A low, jagged chuckle broke out of him. “Well…” He tilted his head, his expression turning cruel. “Alive? Yes.”

A cold chill crawled down my spine.

“But whole?” His smile grew sharper, more predatory. “Probably not.

I stopped dead. Declan stopped too, turning to face me with a calm that was absolutely terrifying.

“She’s in the barracks now,” he continued, his tone conversational, as if he were talking about the weather. “With

he rest of the unwanted ones.”

My stomach twisted violently. And right then a rogue guard suddenly hurried around the corner toward us.

“My king.”

Declan turned sharply.

‘What?”

“Another captured pack has arrived,” the rogue said, keeping his head low. “They’re waiting for selection.”

1:35 pm P PTM

Selection?

Declan turned back toward the witch’s chamber and rapped his knuckles against the wood.

“Varga!” he barked, his voice echoing through the stone hall. “Get out here now. We have another pack to break.”

Then he turned his gaze to the guard

“Take her to the library. And keep your eyes on her,” Declan commanded, leaning in until the guard visibly shook. ‘If you lose sight of her, I’ll personally cut them out of your skull.”

The rogue swallowed hard.

“Yes, my King.”

I almost felt bad for him.

Almost.

The library sat in a separate stone building connected to the castle through a covered corridor. The entire walk here, the guard stayed so close behind me I could practically hear his heartbeat.

At one point, I slowed deliberately just to test him.

He slowed too. Nervous and terrified. Poor rogue really liked having eyes.

The moment we entered the library, the familiar scent of old paper and dust wrapped around me. I disappeared nto the rows of books immediately, grabbing anything connected to crystals and portals.

Hours passed.

And suddenly Ryan walked into the library. He acted like he didn’t know me.

Good.

I had no idea how he’d found me he must have been tracking me. He grabbed a random book from one of the shelves and sat several tables away without looking at me once.

But I noticed the tension in his shoulders immediately. He was waiting.

I stood up with my book, and the rogue guard immediately tensed, taking a sharp step toward me.

“I’m just putting the book back,” I snapped, my voice dripping with irritation.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

I rolled mine.

“Goddess, relax.”

The guard still followed several steps behind me anyway.

1:35 pm P P

walked calmly toward the shelf where Ryan had taken his book from earlier.

Don’t rush. Don’t panic I said to myself.

My fingers slid between the books while my other hand kept the open text raised casually in front of me. Then quickly I slipped the black vial with Beatrice blood deep between the hidden rows.

Please let Ryan understand. I hope he wasn’t an idiot and would know to check there.

I shoved my book back into place beside it, hiding the gap completely. Then slowly stepped away. My pulse hammered violently.

As I turned and I caught Ryan watching me from the corner of his eye. Only for a second, but it was enough. He new. I looked away immediately before the guard noticed.

“I’m tired,” I said coldly. “Take me back to my room.”

The rogue looked deeply relieved to hear that.

Honestly?

Same I.

As we walked out of the library, I didn’t look back at Ryan once. But deep down, I prayed that everything would

inally go right.

The second I returned to my room, I went straight to the bathroom.

I needed to wash the witch off me.

The smell of burnt herbs and smoke still clung to my skin and tangled itself through my hair like the shadows of er magic had followed me back.

I turned on the hot water and stepped beneath the spray.

And somewhere deep inside my chest, the phantom wolf still pulsed softly against my soul.

It wasn’t the water making me feel this way. It was the new power inside me.

The strange certainty that somehow I wasn’t alone anymore. By the time I crawled back into bed, my body felt heavy with exhaustion and warmth.

The blankets wrapped around me. My eyes closed. And the second my head touched the pillow, darkness ¡wallowed me whole.

At first, I thought it was just a dream. It was like I was back in the pack house.

Home.

My pulse kicked up. I moved through the dim room, but my feet didn’t seem to touch the floor. I felt light, almost

1:35 pm P P

weightless, like I was made of mist.

Then saw him.

Nathan was in the bed. My bed.

Even in sleep, his face was tight with worry. He looked like he hadn’t slept since the night I was taken. I moved closer, my hand moving on its own. Treached out, my fingers brushing the stubble on his cheek.

Nathan’s eyes snapped open.

‘Emily?”

My pulse stumbled. He could see me. He sat up, his gaze locked on mine with an intensity that made my skin hum. He looked like he was afraid to move, afraid I’d disappear if he blinked.

“Emily… are you really here?”

I looked down at my hands. I was transparent, my skin glowing with a faint, silver light.

And then it hit me.

This wasn’t just a dream.