Chapter 190: Chapter 190

Mira’s POV

Something felt off from the moment I opened my eyes.

I couldn’t name it, couldn’t see it—but it was there, clawing at my chest like a warning. A heaviness in my bones. A whisper in my ears that didn’t belong to the wind. I’d learned enough by now to know not to ignore that feeling.

But the witches expected me at the garden. So I forced myself out of bed and walked into the sunlit courtyard where the others were already training. The trees danced lazily, and birds chirped in rhythm, but even nature felt… distant.

“Focus on your breathing,” Nyla instructed, standing in front of me. “And let your magic rise with the wind.”

I nodded and inhaled deeply.

But I couldn’t concentrate. Not when every sentence from their mouths kept swirling back to one thing.

“I still don’t understand how anyone could trust a werewolf,” another witch muttered nearby.

“They’re just beasts. Slaves of the moon,” someone added.

“They should’ve never existed. The witches who created them broke every sacred law.”

I opened my eyes.

That was it.

I’d held it in long enough.

“Enough!” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. The wind trembled slightly around us. A few witches froze in place.

Everyone turned to stare at me.

“Not all of them are monsters,” I said, stepping forward. “You say witches were misunderstood. Hunted. Persecuted. But isn’t that exactly what you’re doing now? Judging an entire race for the sins of a few?”

“Mira—” Lyra started, but I cut her off.

“I’m not just married to werewolves,” I continued, eyes burning with emotion. “I’m mated to them. Bound by destiny. By the goddess herself. And they have shown me nothing but love.”

I walked past the others, my voice rising with conviction. “Kai, Damien, Rowan, Lucian… They’re kings. Protectors. Brothers. Leaders. They don’t kill innocents or wage wars. They care. They build. They sacrifice. For their people.”

Silence fell.

“I came here to learn about who I am,” I said. “And I know now—I wasn’t born to keep the factions divided. I was chosen by the moon goddess to end the hatred. To bridge the gaps. To bring harmony back. The way it used to be.”

My heart thundered as I looked at each face in the courtyard.

“I can’t do it alone,” I whispered. “But with your help… we can make the world whole again.”

No one spoke.

Their eyes were unreadable.

Morgana stood with her arms crossed, face stern.

I swallowed my disappointment. “Think about it,” I said, and turned away.

I didn’t expect applause. But I had hoped for something.

As I approached the manor, that eerie feeling from earlier returned—stronger now.

And then I saw her.

Shara.

The ginger-haired maid was sneaking around the back of the manor, hood drawn up, eyes darting.

Suspicion ignited instantly.

I followed her silently, barefoot on the sandy path. The manor faded behind us, and the plains opened into moonlit emptiness.

“Shara!” I called out.

She froze.

Slowly, she turned, her lips curling into a smirk.

“I knew you’d follow me,” she said.

“Who are you?” I asked. “You’re not just a maid. You used a phrase—‘The wolf howls loudest before it dies.’ Only one person ever said that to me. My father.”

Her smile widened. “Then you already know.”

My blood ran cold. “You’re working for him.”

“I was raised by him,” she replied proudly. “Anton found me when I was a girl. Taught me magic. Taught me purpose.”

“You’re not human?”

She scoffed. “Hardly. A born witch. Trained in shadow arts. Planted in this coven to watch you. Guide you to your power… and distract the others.”

“And the attacks?” I demanded. “The false lycans? Baylor?”

“All me,” she said, with twisted pride. “Baylor was my puppet. So were the beasts that attacked your lands.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s time,” she hissed. “Time for reckoning. Time for the world to remember who witches truly are. Not scavengers hiding in forests—but gods reborn in flesh. And your beloved mates?” She tilted her head. “Soon, they’ll be nothing but a memory.”

Before I could summon a spell, she stepped back.

A rift tore the air behind her—dark, jagged, like a wound in the sky.

“Goodbye, chosen one,” she mocked, and vanished into it.

I stood frozen.

But I knew.

Anton had attacked Blackwood.

I had to go.

I turned and sprinted back to the manor. Bursting into the main hall, I shouted, “I need a rift! Someone! Anyone—”

The witches all looked at me with confusion and fear.

“We’re nature witches, Mira,” Morgana said slowly. “We don’t do rift magic.”

“But I do,” I breathed.

The All Energy inside me stirred.

I didn’t know how to use it, not yet. But I didn’t need years of mastery. I needed one thing:

Will.

I knelt on the floor and focused. Every word Morgana ever said. Every lesson. Every whisper of power.

I envisioned Blackwood.

The castle. My mates. The hills. The trees.

I whispered a spell.

Lucian’s POV

The shrine had become a kind of sanctuary for me.

The moon disciples didn’t fear me. They welcomed me. Helped me. Taught me how to center my thoughts, slow my breathing, cage the beast with patience rather than potions.

For the first time, I felt hope.

That night, we were preparing dinner—laughing even. The children ran through the halls, chasing one another while the high priestess stirred a pot of stew.

Then the screaming began.

I rushed outside.

And stopped.

An army.

Hundreds of werewolves in dark armor surrounded the shrine like vultures circling prey. But these weren’t from Blackwood. Their scent was wrong. Their eyes—hungry, violent.

Then I saw him.

Anton.

He stood calmly at the front, arms behind his back like a king admiring his prize.

“Anton,” I growled. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to retrieve what belongs to me,” he said coldly. “But mostly… to end what should’ve never begun.”

“You don’t belong here.”

“Neither do you,” he replied. “A cursed beast masquerading as a prince.”

He turned to his army. “Take him.”

I didn’t wait.

I attacked first.

The beast rose in me like a storm, claws and fury tearing through the wolves closest to me. I lost myself in the rage, embraced the curse. It gave me power—until it didn’t.

Suddenly, my body trembled. My vision blurred.

Something was wrong.

A pressure heavier than the curse itself washed over me. My beast howled… and faltered.

I collapsed to my knees.

And as I fell, I saw her.

A flash of red hair beneath a black cloak.

And then everything went dark.