CHAPTER 64: CHAPTER 64: PURE-BLOODED WITCH

Sara looked outside from the car, scanning the shadows for any sign of her. When she finally caught sight of Selene walking towards her, her chest loosened. She let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding.

Her eyes flicked over Selene from head to toe. Not because she doubted her but because instinct demanded it. A cut. A bruise. Something. Anything. But as always, there was nothing. Selene looked exactly as she had when she’d left. Untouched and Untouchable.

Sara couldn’t help the question that flickered in her mind for the thousandth time—how?

After all, werewolves only had one real advantage over the rest of them—brute strength. And witches... witches like them were the weakest when it came to physical strength. That was why they were easy prey. That was why these bastards hunted them like sport.

But Selene... Selene was different. She had never seen a man, wolf, or any other race that could beat her in a fight. Not once.

Is it because she’s pure-blooded? Sara thought. But even as the idea passed her mind, she dismissed it. She had met pure-blooded witches before. None of them had this kind of power. None of them could take down an Alpha with their bare hands and walk away without a scratch.

She’d asked before. Too many times. And every time, Selene’s answer had been the same.

"Life has a way of teaching you the very things you’re weakest in."

Sara had never pushed further. She knew that tone—flat, closed, final. But it didn’t stop the curiosity from gnawing at her.

The passenger door opened. Selene slid in without a word, the faint scent of wolf blood still clinging to her.

"Drive," she said quietly, her voice like steel wrapped in silk.

She didn’t even look behind her. Didn’t even acknowledge the presence of the Alpha wedged into the back seat.

Sara’s gaze flicked to the rearview mirror, taking in the sight of him. Massive shoulders hunched, neck bent at an unnatural angle, knees shoved up so high they nearly pressed against his chest. The narrow back seat of the old sedan had him twisted and folded in a way that would have been funny... if the air inside the car wasn’t so heavy.

But Sara did not give a fuck about how this bastard was or was not comfortable. If she could, she would have tied his worthless body with a rope to the back of the car and dragged him through the mud, over the stones, until his flesh peeled and bones cracked. But ahh... her fantasy would have to wait. After all, they had a mission to do.

Soon they drove for almost an hour, leaving the reeking territories of the werewolves far behind. The trees thinned, the air shifted, and the scent of pine and earth slowly faded into the neutral blandness of human land. It was quieter here... too quiet.

Sara pulled the car in front of a simple two-story house. A plain place. Nothing to look at twice. The paint is a little chipped, the windows are ordinary—just another middle-tier home tucked into a human neighborhood. But Selene knew better. Oh, she knew exactly what breathed under that skin of simplicity.

Sara shoved open her door, glancing over at Selene.

"You can rest," Sara said, her tone clipped. "I’ll deal with him."

Selene didn’t argue. She didn’t even look at the bastard again. Somewhere deep inside, just the presence of a werewolf made her stomach twist. Made her skin crawl. It would be better if Sara dragged him far, far away from her sight.

Selene stepped out into the cool air, ignoring the faint sound of chains rattling inside the car as the Alpha shifted his position. She didn’t care. She walked straight to the front door, her boots thudding softly against the concrete steps.

The moment she crossed the threshold, the smell changed—less human, more stone and metal hidden beneath. Because under this plain little home, there was a basement.

A very big basement. Bigger than the house itself—almost triple in size. A secret place carved deep and far, where they kept Alphas chained like the mutts they were.

That was her idea.

Now, they had decided to play the same game as them. Turn their own tactics back on them. Hold one of theirs to get back one of their own. Because the arrogant Alphas had witches locked up in their filthy dens, feeding on their magic like leeches to prolong their lives.

Her lips curled in disgust at the thought. The urge to rip each of them apart burned in her chest, but it was useless. They would heal. Regenerate like pathetic undead.

Copying the ability of vampires. But at least vampires are still better than them—they have the ability to live long on their own. Unlike these mutts, these wolves were living like immortals only because of the young witches they had chained in their packs.

Selene rubbed her brows, a sigh slipping from her lips. The memories clawed their way up her mind, and she hated it. She turned and walked to the narrow staircase, heading to the second floor. Sara could deal with the bastard however she liked. She wouldn’t interfere. Her only task had been to capture him. Now he was here. The rest... wasn’t her concern.

The walls upstairs were plain. The door to her room creaked softly when she pushed it open. She crossed to the bathroom without thinking, peeling her clothes from her skin. The scent of wolf clung to her like filth. She stepped under the water, hot and heavy as it poured down her body, steam curling around her face.

For a moment, she let her eyes close. Let the pounding of the water drown everything else out. It was the only thing that could pull the fatigue from her bones right now.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, letting her mind drift. But when she finally stepped out, it was late. The light outside her window had gone from dull gold to deep night.

She dried herself and pulled on fresh clothes, and that was when her gaze caught on the mark on her arm. Still there.