The Witch and Her Four Dangerous Alphas

Chapter 202: Chapter 202: My Lady...

Serena’s POV~

Lira’s words completely froze me.

The smile dropped right off my face, and | nearly choked on air.

"What...what do you mean?" | stammered, trying to sound casual.

Lira tilted her head, the grin never fading.

"Oh, princess, you can tell me. Did the Alphas of Silver Dawn do something to make you blush like that?"

My eyes went wide, and | coughed, hard. "W-what? Lira!"

She only giggled, covering her mouth.

"No need to be shy, Princess. It’s only natural. Those Alphas are dangerously handsome. Every girl in the palace

is half in love with them already."

| groaned. "Lira, stop..."

But she didn’t.

She clasped her hands tically and sighed, "Oh, especially Alpha Aeron... he’s so tall, so strong. Can you

imagine being held by him? Those arms could crush me, and I'd still thank him."

She squealed softly, and | could only stare at her with embarrassment and amusement.

"Lira!" | tried to sound stern, but it cout more like a laugh.

"Oh, con," she teased, stepping closer with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Don’t tellyou never

thought about it... about being in his arms... or maybe..." she leaned in closer, voice dropping to a

whisper..."maybe it wasn’t Alpha Aeron who made you blush like that."

My breath caught.

For a second, Lucian’s face flashed in my mind... his hands on me, his lips, the sound of my nbreaking from

his throat.

Heat rushed up my neck before | could stop it.

"l...I don’t know what you're talking about," | muttered, turning away quickly.

"Oh, you so do," Lira laughed, clapping her hands. "The way you just turned red says everything."

| grabbed a comb and pretended to be busy with my hair, though my fingers trembled slightly. My heart wouldn't

calm down.

| hated that she was right.

| hated that | was blushing over him.

Lucian’s nlingered in my mind like a forbidden word, and the memory of how it felt to be in his arms made

my stomach twist.

| was a mess.

A stupid, blushing, guilty mess.

And as | glanced at my reflection in the mirror...

the flushed cheeks, slightly swollen lips, and a faint mark on my neck hidden by my hair, and all | wanted to do

was scream.

| was no better than a lovesick teenager.

| pressed my palms against my cheeks and whispered under my breath, "Get a grip, Selene... stop being such a

horny, pathetic idiot."

But the warmth that spread throughwhen | remembered how he’d said my name... made it impossible to

believe my own words.

ork

Author’s POV~

The corridor was silent.

Not the kind of silence that comes from peace, but the kind that feels like someone is watching from the dark.

The long passage stretched into darkness, lined with unlit lights and cold walls that swallowed every sound.

A faint echo of footsteps broke that stillness. Slow, deliberate, and graceful.

A figure moved through the corridor, completely veiled from head to toe. The black fabric draped over her form

left no trace of skin visible...not even her hands.

Yet, her figure, light and fluid, betrayed her gender. There was something unmistakably feminine about the way

she walked, the soft sway of her lean silhouette beneath the heavy folds of her cloak.

When she finally reached the end of the corridor, she stopped before a large wooden door. Her gloved hand rose

slowly, pressing against the door. With one firm push, the door pushed open, revealing a dimly lit room beyond.

Inside, a man sat behind a table, the flicker of a single light casting uneven light across his face. He was tall and

well-dressed, his dark hair slicked neatly back, but there was something sharp and serpentine about his smile.

The moment he saw her, he stood up abruptly, a spark of delight flashing in his eyes.

"My lady is here," he said, voice smooth as silk and dripping with flattery.

He moved forward quickly, bowing with exaggerated grace before taking her gloved hand. He bent down,

pressing his lips lightly to it in a mock gesture of reverence.

But before his lips could linger, she pulled her hand back with quiet authority.

"Why did you callhere?" Her voice was low, steady, and strangely cold beneath the veil. "What more do you

want?"

The man chuckled softly, straightening his back. His eyes, though polite on the surface, gleamed with something

darker...something that lingered too long on the curves hidden beneath her cloak.

"My lady," he murmured, his tone both charming and dangerous, "what is the rush?"

He gestured toward the chair across from his. "Sit down. You must be tired from your long journey."

The lady hesitated for a moment, then moved forward, the soft rustle of her robes filling the room. She sat

gracefully in the offered chair.

Then, with unhurried calm, she reached up and removed her veil.

The heavy fabric fell away, revealing a face both beautiful and commanding...pale skin, sharp eyes that seemed

to glow faintly in the dim light, and lips that curved in an expression too calm to be kind.

If Selene had been there, she would have recognized her in an instant.

It was none other than the Witch Mother.

The man’s breath hitched slightly, his composure cracking for the briefest second. His eyes drank her in with

thinly veiled hunger, yet his smile never faltered.

"My lady," he said smoothly, pouring himself a glass of wine, "you grow more radiant with every passing year.

One might even think you've found a way to cheat titself."

The Witch Mother tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable.

"Flattery doesn’t suit you," she said quietly.

He laughed, soft and low, swirling the glass in his hand. "Oh, but honesty does. And | am only being honest."

His tone was light, but his gaze was heavy. He looked at her as a man looks at something both sacred and

forbidden.

The Witch Mother said nothing for a long while. The light between them flickered, stretching their shadows

against the walls. Finally, she leaned back in her chair, her calm voice cutting through the thick air.

"Speak, Merek," she said. "You didn’t summonhere just to stare."

The man’s smile deepened.

"Oh, | have much to say," he replied, setting the wine glass down with a quiet clink. "But first... | want you to

know...it is Alpha Merek, my lady."

Her eyes flickered once, a glint of cold warning in them.

"Careful," she said softly. "You forget who you're speaking to."

For a heartbeat, the air seemed to shiver. The only burning candle fltrembled violently before steadying

again.

Merek only smiled wider, bowing his head slightly as if in apology...but his gaze never left her face.

"My lady," he began, the words sliding off his tongue slowly, "the pure-blooded witch has already died."

"There is no one left to threaten your position now," he added, watching her carefully.

But she did not move. There was not a flicker of surprise; not a hint of emotion crossed her face.

The Witch Mother simply stared at

him with those geeky

oni) stydying@ } ol who did not yet

realize how close he stood to death.

Merek swallowed, his confidence faltering for the briefest moment. Then he smiled again, a little too wide.

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He leaned closer, his grin turning sharper.

"Then nothing could stop us."

His voice grew darker, thick with

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The Witch Mother tilted her head slightly, her gaze sharpening. Still, she said nothing.

Encouraged by her silence, Merek went on.

"We just need to remove the few who could stand in our way," he said. "One by one."

He took another slow sip of wine, his tongue tracing the edge of his teeth. "First... the elder Lycan. He's the only

real threat left."

He smirked, eyes glinting with wicked amusement.

"Lord Maximus."

He leaned back in his chair, completely sure of himself now. "And after him...the prince. We could take him down

easily."

He chuckled lowly, his laughter echoing faintly against the stone walls.

"The king is already useless," he said with a sneer. "A rotting relic sitting on a crumbling throne."

Then he looked at her again, his expression softening...pretending to be gentle, though his eyes still glimmered

with hunger.

"All we need is your word, my lady," he whispered.

"You just have to help us kill Lord Maximus."

For the first time, the Witch Mother's expression changed.

Not much...just the faintest curve of her lips. A smile that wasn’t truly a smile. A cold, knowing thing.

Merek’s smirk faltered. His voice caught slightly.

"My lady...?" he said cautiously.

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