Chapter 52 52

Chapter 52 52
"Did you miss me, Miss Jones?" she said lightly.

That voice.

Dry. Amused. Modern. 

Like she could be sipping matcha and scrolling TikTok in a café.

But sadly, there are no cafés here. Or macha, or coffee. Just this deadly witch, a dark forest, and a girl trying not to pee her pants with fear.

The wind toyed with the hem of her dark cloak, but she did not turn. 

I folded my arms to look tough. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm here for answers, not a reunion."

A soft chuckle slipped from her. "You came anyway."

"Yeah, well, congratulations. Your psychological manipulation worked." I inhaled. The words tasted like surrender. "Tell me how to get my life back. I want to return to my old life."

There. I said it.

For a split second, my chest hurt. Because saying it meant admitting this world wasn't mine. That Rygar… wasn't mine either. 

Skara chuckled like a teacher hearing the student finally say the obvious answer. "I knew you'd come to your senses soon."

"I didn't come for commentary," I muttered beneath my breath loud enough for her to hear me.

She lifted a pale hand slightly, examining her crimson nails as if I bored her. "Direct. I like that about you."

"Get to the point, Skara!"

"The annulment of your marriage to Rygar is the first step," she said calmly.

My jaw tightened. Of course, it circled back to that.

"But I love him," I said before I could stop myself.

Skara tilted her head slightly, though her back remained to me. "Love." She said it like it was a cute but stupid concept. 

"Yes, love," I insisted. "Not everything is blood and death, Skara."

"Mm." She hummed. "Do you think when you return to your old life, Rygar will come with you?"

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.

Because the image was ridiculous. Rygar, Alpha of a brutal werewolf pack, standing in Stanford campus with students on scooters and girls filming GRWM videos.

He wouldn't survive a week. Or he'd become some viral meme.

The thought of my string and mighty Alpha reduced to that made me cringe.

My silence answered for me, and Skara nodded.

"Your worlds are not compatible. You both were not meant to be together in the first place." Skara continued smoothly, 

I hated how logical she sounded.

"You don't love him," she went on. "You're just emotional,"

"And you do," I scoffed. 

"I'm fated to him. There's a difference, Eve. You know what happens when fated mates are not together," she said easily.

Her words crawled under my skin because a part of me agreed.

I swallowed. "Even if I wanted to annul it, Rygar wouldn't agree."

"Oh, he doesn't need to agree," she replied.

That made me stiff. "What does that mean?"

"In the barbarian union, you only need one person to say I don't want you anymore. And it's over. Just like that."

My chest tightened.

"And if I don't?" I asked quietly.

She finally paused.

The forest seemed to hold its breath with me.

Then she said, "Then your soul will root itself deeper into Ravena's fate. The longer you stay, the less Eve Jones exists.”

A chill ran down my spine.

"You'll forget things," she added. "Your world. Your language. Your morals. Slowly, you become her."

I tried to laugh it off. "I still remember everything."

"For now."

Her confidence scared me more than threats ever did.

I thought of how normal violence had started to feel. How quickly I adapted to the pack hierarchy. How I barely thought about my iphone anymore.

Oh.

Oh no.

"You're lying," I muttered.

"Am I?" she said gently.

Silence stretched between us.

Then she delivered the final blow:

"And what do you think Rygar will do when he discovers you're not truly Ravena, but some college kid from a different time wearing her body?"

My stomach dropped.

Skara said it plainly, without drama, "He'll kill you."

My throat went dry.

Skara continued as if we were discussing weekend plans and not the tearing apart of my existence.

"The next step," she said calmly, "is to bathe in the Blood Sea. Dip yourself in it seven times."

I blinked. "The what sea?"

"The Blood Sea."

"I don't even know where that is," I muttered.

"That," Skara replied smoothly, "is not my problem."

I frowned at her back. "You dragged me into this mess, possessed a child, haunted my dreams, and now directions are where you draw the line?"

"You must seek it yourself," she said. "The path only reveals itself to those who truly wish to leave."

Convenient and annoyingly mystical. Shut up bitch!

"The moment you dip yourself the seventh time," she went on, "your soul will return to your old life. Cleanly. As if you were never here."

As if I were never here.

Never here.

No Rygar.

No pack.

No bond.

No chaos.

No blood.

No responsibility.

Stanford. My dorm. My old clothes. My phone. My normal, painfully boring life.

My mind drifted. I pictured lecture halls, overpriced coffee, and late-night reading apps filled with werewolf novels. God, the irony. I used to fantasize about worlds like this.

Now I was desperate to escape it.

But then Rygar's face surfaced in my thoughts. His silver hair caught the light. His rare, soft smiles. The way he held me like I was something precious in this brute world.

I loved him.

That was the problem.

I loved him, but I was no longer useful to him. The seal was done. The seven moons were over. The political need for Ravena was fading. All that remained was a controversial Luna, whom his people hated.

A liability and spark for rebellion.

The logical part of me whispered: Leave before you become the reason he dies.

But my heart… my stupid heart lingered.

I clenched my fists. "If I leave, he'll be fine without me."

That was half a question and half a plea.

Silence stretched for a moment.

"If you return to your world," she broke the silence, "I promise I will stop my onslaught in the barbarian world."

Then Skara dropped the final bomb, dropping a finality in my heart. 

"I will stop hunting Rygar for good."