CHAPTER 66: CHAPTER 66: EVER HEARD OF SILVER DAWN PACK

The morning light filtered weakly through the thin curtains. The room smelled faintly of a calm scent that was diffused in the air. Selene was still deep in the warmth of her blanket, her breathing slow, her dreams untroubled.

That peace shattered with the pounding of fists against the door.

"Selene!" The voice was sharp and frantic; it was Sara’s. "Selene, wake up!"

Selene’s eyes cracked open, her body reluctant to move. "If you’re not dying," she muttered into the pillow, "you’d better have breakfast in your hands."

But Sara’s voice cut any thought of laziness short. "Something’s wrong...something really bad!"

Selene sat up slowly, stretching like a cat. "What is it this time?"

Sara didn’t wait to be invited. She rushed in, hair a tangled mess, breathless from running. "The pack...Kellan’s pack...they’ve gone mad. His father....he’s furious. He’s calling on every wolf in the city to find us. He’s... he’s hunting witches, Selene. Every single one."

Selene’s head tilted. "Hunting witches?"

"Yes! After last night, you beat his son’s friends half to death, and we kidnapped his precious heir he’s demanding we return Kellan immediately. And if we don’t..." Sara’s voice faltered. "He says he’ll kill two witches before the day ends."

Selene’s expression didn’t change. For a heartbeat, silence stretched, heavy as a blade before the swing. Then she scoffed. "They really can’t wait, can they? At least let their darling boy rot for one day."

Sara’s hands clenched at her sides. "Selene, he’s serious. You know what he’s capable of."

"And what about what they’ve been doing to us for years?" Selene’s voice dropped, sharp as steel. "They’ve kept witches caged, bled us for our magic, and treated witches like currency. What does he take us for? Toys?"

Sara bit her lip, unsure if she should push further.

Selene swung her legs over the bed and stood, the morning chill brushing against her bare skin. "If that old bastard of an Alpha dares to harm even one witch, then he’d better be ready to receive his precious son back... piece by piece."

She said it with no heat—just a calm, cold promise.

A quick rinse and change later, she emerged from the washroom, silver hair still damp, clinging to the curve of her neck. She wasn’t rushing. She didn’t even look tense.

She sat at the small table, peeling an apple with deliberate slowness. The knife in her hand caught the morning light, glinting in a way that made Sara shift uncomfortably.

"Selene..." Sara’s voice was low, almost pleading. "We can’t just sit here."

Selene bit into a slice, chewing slowly. "We’ll move when I decide. Not when they bark."

Sara paced, wringing her hands, every sound from the street making her flinch. But Selene just kept eating, calm in the storm, like she already had the game decided.

The apple core landed in the trash with a lazy flick of Selene’s wrist. She dabbed at her lips with a napkin, her movements unhurried and precise.

Sara’s knee bounced under the table, her fingers worrying the edge of her sleeve. "Where are you going?"

Selene rose, the chair legs scraping softly against the floor. "To check on the dog downstairs."

The basement was colder than the rest of the house, the damp stone sweating under the low, swaying lightbulb. Wolfsbane hung heavy in the air, its acrid sting sharp enough to make most wolves gag.

But Kellan was still conscious.

Barely.

Silver chains wrapped him like a predator’s coils—across his chest, locking his wrists behind the chair, and binding his legs so tightly that the metal bit into his skin.

His head lolled forward, but Selene could see the steady rhythm of his breathing. They had heavily drugged him, but still this bastard became conscious, a perk of a high bloodline even in werewolves.

Her boot connected with his shin. Hard.

The chair rattled against the stone floor.

"Wake up," she said, her voice quiet enough to make it worse. "I know you’re not unconscious. Don’t waste my time pretending."

Kellan’s head lifted slowly. His eyes were sharp, calculating, and far too smug for someone chained like livestock.

A smirk tugged at his mouth. "So... you must’ve gotten my father’s little warning." His voice was thick with mockery. "And just like a bitch, you’ve come to release me so I might... consider forgiving you."

The sentence was barely finished before her boot slammed into his ribs. The crack of impact was sharp, followed by a hiss of air through his clenched teeth.

Selene straightened slowly, her eyes cold. "Big mouth for a dog in a cage."

She didn’t even look away from him when she called, "Sara. Phone. Now."

Sara appeared in the doorway, wide-eyed. "You... want me to...?"

"Record," Selene ordered.

Sara hesitated, then raised her phone directly, aiming at his pathetic state and completely blocking Selene’s profile.

Kellan’s smirk faltered for just a moment, but his pride burned too bright to keep him quiet. "You’re recording this? To brag? To show you managed to touch me while I was chained? Pathetic."

Selene didn’t respond. She drove her knee upward into his gut. The air left him in a strangled sound, his body jerking forward against the restraints.

"You..." His voice cracked with pain before hardening again. "If you lay another hand on me, I will make you die a horrible death."

Selene tilted her head, studying him like one might a bug. "Then I’d better make every hit worth it."

Her fist came down this time, smashing across his jaw. His head snapped sideways, blood painting the corner of his mouth.

"You filthy...bitch!" He spat, eyes flashing gold. "You don’t know who my sworn brother is! If you touch me again, he’ll..."

Her fist landed again before he could finish.

But this time, he roared through the pain. "Alpha Aeron of the Silver Dawn Pack. Heard of him? And his brothers?" His voice swelled with ugly pride. "If you beat me again, I’m certain they’ll skin you alive, bitch."