Chapter 163

Mitchell POV:

I seethed with anger as I stood outside Ashir's room, dismissed like a mere servant. But my indignation quickly turned to curiosity as I heard Smith's voice inside, speaking in hushed tones.

I pressed my ear against the door, listening intently as Smith expressed his doubts about Malachi's true intentions. Ashir's laughter was like a slap in the face, dismissing Smith's concerns without a second thought.

"Bring me proof, Smith," Ashir said, his voice dripping with skepticism. "I won't believe it without concrete evidence."

Smith's response was firm. "I'll find it, Ashir. Mark my words, Malachi is not what he seems."

I felt a shiver run down my spine as I realized the depth of Smith's suspicions. What did he know that I didn't? And why was Ashir so blind to the truth? I made a mental note to keep a close eye on the situation, my anger momentarily forgotten in the face of this new intrigue.

I quickly walked away from the door, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping. As I entered my room, I couldn't shake off the thoughts of Ashir and his conversation with Smith. My mind was filled with Ashir's laughter, his smile, and his piercing eyes. I felt a flutter in my chest, and my heart raced with a strange excitement.

I lay on my bed, trying to calm my thoughts, but they only grew stronger. I couldn't believe it - I, Mitchell, was developing feelings for Alpha Ashir! It was absurd, ridiculous, and yet...I couldn't deny the way my heart skipped a beat whenever he was near.

I tossed and turned, my mind a jumble of emotions. What was happening to me? I was a strong, independent wolf, not some lovesick pup. And yet...Ashir's face lingered in my mind, his eyes gleaming with a warmth and kindness that I couldn't ignore.

I finally fell into a restless sleep, my dreams filled with visions of Ashir and me, running together under the full moon, our hearts beating as one.

I woke up with a start, my heart racing and my mind foggy. But as I sat up and rubbed my eyes, I realized that the dream had been just that - a dream. But the feelings lingered, refusing to be shaken off.

I was falling deeper and deeper in love with Alpha Ashir, and I didn't know what to do. I knew it was foolish, that he wasn't my mate, that he didn't feel the same way. But my heart refused to listen.

And then there was the danger. Malachi's warning echoed in my mind   remember my mission. I thought on how he would react if he was aware of my situation. “Stay away from Ashir, Mitchell. He's not what he seems." But I couldn't help myself. I was drawn to Ashir like a moth to flame.

I knew that if Malachi found out, he would be furious. He would see it as a betrayal, a weakness. And yet...I couldn't help the way I felt.

I was trapped in a web of my own making, torn between my loyalty to Malachi and my love for Ashir. And I didn't know how to escape.

I stood outside Ashir's room, my heart pounding in my chest. I knocked once, and before he could respond, I pushed open the door and slipped inside. Ashir was standing by his bed, changing into a new set of clothes. He spun around, his eyes narrowing as he shouted, "Out!"

But I didn't budge. Instead, I approached him, my eyes locked on his. "Why did you send me away the other day, Ashir?" I asked, my voice husky.

Ashir's expression turned cold, his eyes flashing with annoyance. "Mitchell, I told you to leave. Now, please, respect my privacy."

But I didn't listen. I took a step closer, my hands reaching for the hem of my shirt. I pulled it off, revealing my bare skin underneath. Ashir's eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't move, didn't react.

I continued to undress, my clothes falling to the floor in a heap. I stood before him, naked and vulnerable, trying to tempt him, to seduce him. But Ashir's expression remained unchanged, his eyes cold and unyielding.

"Mitchell, stop this," he growled, his voice firm. "I'm not interested."

I felt a stinging sensation in my eyes as tears pricked at the corners. I had never felt so rejected, so unwanted. I quickly gathered my clothes and fled the room, my heart heavy with shame and disappointment.

Malachi's POV:

I  tossed and turned in my bed, unable to shake off the feeling of unease. I finally gave up on sleep and made my way back to the prison, my mind racing with thoughts of Vill and the secrets she held.

As I entered the prison, I saw Gorthok still interrogating Vill, his face twisted in a snarl. I approached them, my eyes fixed on Vill's battered form.

"Gorthok, what have you gotten from her so far?" I demanded, my voice low and menacing.

Gorthok turned to me, his eyes gleaming with frustration. "Nothing, Malachi. She refuses to speak. It's as if she's made of stone."

I narrowed my eyes, my anger simmering. "Continue the interrogation," I growled. "I want to know what she's hiding."

Gorthok nodded, his smile cruel. "With pleasure, Malachi."

I watched as Gorthok resumed his questioning, his methods growing more brutal by the minute. But Vill remained silent, her eyes fixed on me with a defiance that only fueled my anger.

I slammed my fist on the table, my patience worn thin. "Enough, Gorthok! She's not going to crack."

Gorthok paused, his chest heaving with exertion. "As you wish, Malachi."

I glared at Vill, my mind racing with frustration. I needed to know what she knew, and I needed to know it now. But she seemed determined to keep her secrets buried.

"Leave us," I barked at Gorthok.

As he departed, I paced the room, my thoughts turning to Emma, the witch who had helped me capture Vill in the first place. She had a talent for extraction, for digging secrets out of even the most reluctant minds.

I decided to call upon her services once again. I sent a messenger to fetch her, my mind set on uncovering the truth, no matter the cost.

As I waited for Emma's arrival, I gazed at Vill, my eyes burning with intensity. Soon, she would crack. Soon, she would tell me everything. And when she did, I would finally have the upper hand.

Not quite long Emma arrived. I watched her as she  entered the room, her eyes fixed on Vill with a confident gaze. She began to weave her magic, her hands dancing in intricate patterns as she chanted in a language I didn't understand.

But as her magic washed over Vill, something unexpected happened. Vill's eyes flashed with a fierce light, and she laughed, a cold, mirthless sound. Emma's magic seemed to bounce off her, like water off a stone.

Emma's eyes widened in surprise, and she tried again, her magic growing stronger. But Vill remained unmoved, her eyes fixed on Emma with a challenging glare.

And then, in a shocking turn of events, Emma collapsed, her body crumpling to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. I rushed to her side, my heart racing with surprise.

"Emma! What's wrong?" I demanded, shaking her shoulder.

But she didn't respond, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. I glared at Vill, my anger and frustration boiling over.

"What did you do to her?" I snarled, my hands clenched into fists.

But Vill just smiled, her eyes gleaming with a knowing light. And I realized, with a jolt of fear, that I had underestimated her. She was more powerful than I had thought, and I was in over my head.

The game continues between the two witches. Emma seems weak and she fell.

I watched in amazement as Emma struggled to her feet, her eyes fixed on Vill with a fierce determination. She raised her hand, pointing at Vill, and began to chant once more.

But this time, she faltered, her voice weak and shaky. She glanced at me, her eyes pleading. "Malachi, help me. Mix the powder, blow it on her."

I hesitated, but Emma's urgency was infectious. I mixed the powder, my hands shaking, and blew it on Vill.

Vill's eyes widened, her face contorting in pain. But still, she refused to speak. Emma's face twisted in anger, her eyes blazing with a fierce light.

"You will talk," she hissed, her voice low and menacing. "Even if I have to kill you."

I tried to intervene, grabbing Emma's arm. "Emma, stop. We won't get anything if she's dead."

But Emma shook me off, her eyes fixed on Vill. "I don't care. She will talk."

Outside the prison, George watched with narrowed eyes, his face expressionless. But he didn't intervene, despite Vill's obvious pain.

The scene before me was chaotic, Emma's magic swirling around Vill like a vortex of pain. I knew I had to act, but I was frozen in place, unsure of what to do next.