Chapter 191 Chapter 191

Chapter 191 Chapter 191
Mira’s POV

Darkness.

Thick, cold, suffocating darkness.

It wrapped around me like a shroud, pulling me into its depths. My breath caught in my throat as I drifted—weightless, lost. Had I failed? Had I destroyed myself trying to save them?

I tried to move. To speak. Nothing.

Until—

A gust of wind slammed into my face. Heat. Light. Sound.

And then—

My feet landed.

The shift was so sudden I stumbled forward. I opened my eyes—and my breath caught.

The castle.

The familiar stone walls, the ancient torches burning against the night. I stood in the main corridor of Blackwood Castle.

I had made it.

Tears filled my eyes as the tension inside me snapped. The rift magic had worked. I had returned.

Without hesitation, I turned and sprinted toward the east wing. Guards moved aside when they saw me. Gasps followed in my wake. I didn’t stop.

The moment I reached the war chamber, the heavy doors slammed open.

Kai, Damien, and Rowan stood around the table, mid-discussion. Their heads whipped around—and their eyes widened.

“Mira!” Kai was the first to move.

He reached me in three strides and pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly. “You’re here… you’re alive.”

Rowan wrapped one arm around me from the side. Damien’s hand was on my back, grounding me.

I closed my eyes for a heartbeat, soaking in their warmth.

“I’m here,” I whispered. “But we don’t have time.”

Damien pulled back slightly. “We know. Anton has—”

“Where is he?” I asked, cutting him off. “Tell me. Now.”

Rowan frowned. “He’s fortified the moon shrine. It’s crawling with his soldiers. You can’t—”

“I’m not asking,” I said firmly. “I didn’t come back empty-handed.”

They exchanged glances.

“We were planning a counterstrike,” Damien admitted. “Take back the banks and supply routes. But Anton has the shrine, and now the streets are swarming with wolves who don’t carry any clan scent. He’s building something.”

“Then I’ll end it,” I said.

And I turned.

They didn’t stop me this time.

The streets of Blackwood had never looked like this.

Shadows moved between the buildings, carrying blades and torches. Wolves of every size and color paced through the alleys. None of them bore the markings of Blackwood. My heart clenched at the sight.

This wasn’t just about power anymore.

Anton was trying to erase Blackwood from the inside out.

When I arrived at the Moon Shrine, the guards stepped aside—either too shocked to stop me, or too smart to try.

The inside was eerily quiet.

At the center of the shrine, inside the high priestess’s altar room, I saw him.

Anton.

My father.

He stood with his back to me, staring at the glowing moonstone altar. Like he belonged there. Like this was his place.

I stepped forward. “Turn around.”

He did.

And he smirked.

“Well,” he drawled. “You found your way back. How convenient.”

I clenched my fists. “You lied to me. You manipulated me. You killed my mother.”

“She was a traitor.”

“She was your wife!”

He scoffed. “A filthy witch who birthed an even filthier daughter. I should’ve drowned you when I had the chance.”

Pain surged in my chest. But I stood my ground.

“You raised another as your own,” I said. “That girl—Shara. You gave her what you never gave me.”

“She earned it,” he said. “You were weak. Pathetic. Crying over orphans. Begging for love. You were nothing.”

I trembled. Rage coiled inside me like a beast waiting to pounce.

“She gave me purpose,” Anton continued. “And when I kill you tonight, the world will thank me.”

He shifted.

I didn’t even see the full transformation—just a blur of fur and muscle and snarling teeth.

Then he lunged.

I barely had time to react. Instinct surged.

Magic exploded from my palms.

The blast sent him flying across the altar room. He crashed into the stone wall and growled as he rose again, stunned.

“You think I came back without training?” I asked, stepping forward. “You really thought I’d leave my witch side untouched?”

I raised both hands—and the room lit with white-blue energy.

He lunged again.

I met him with wave after wave. Fire, wind, light, shadow—I didn’t know what I was summoning. I just knew it was mine.

He tried to claw at me, but I sent him skidding across the floor again.

Then—

A flash of movement behind me.

I turned.

And my heart stopped.

Lucian.

He was being dragged forward by Anton’s guards—weak, bloody, barely conscious. His arms hung limp at his sides, and his head dropped forward.

“No!” I cried, moving toward him.

“Stop,” one of the men growled. “One more step and he dies.”

Anton stood again, blood staining his fur. He shifted back to human, breathing heavily. His nose bled, his hands shook.

He laughed.

“Let’s see,” he said. “Your mate… or yourself? Who dies tonight, Mira?”

Lucian lifted his head slightly, his gaze locking on mine.

“Do it,” he rasped. “End him. Don’t let me stop you.”

My eyes burned. I could barely breathe.

Baylor stepped forward from the shadows, smirking. “You don’t have the strength.”

I screamed.

The power erupted from me like a tidal wave.

Everything shattered—walls, altar stones, the ground beneath us. The room became a whirlwind of energy and chaos.

The guards flew backward, lifeless. Lucian dropped to the ground.

I collapsed to my knees, dizzy, vision spinning. My head felt like it would burst open.

Then Anton—still standing—charged at me.

My magic was drained. My body trembled. I couldn’t move.

He leapt.

And then—

A blast of emerald light.

Anton flew backward, crashing into the shattered altar.

And Morgana stepped between us.

Her eyes glowed with fury. Her cloak billowed with magic. “Touch her again,” she said coldly, “and I’ll rip your soul from your bones.”

Anton tried to stand.

Morgana raised her hand—and chains of green fire wrapped around him, pinning him to the stone.

I gasped, my body trembling. The magic inside me was burning… unraveling. I couldn’t hold it.

I dropped.

The last thing I saw was Morgana’s eyes flicking toward me.

“You did well,” she whispered.

Then everything went black.