His Witchy Mate

er. I understood her need for money, but every day she went out made me worry. And

for whatever news she was about to share. As I watched her shaken, I felt m

o urging, pouring out

f tearing apart a witch's body. The brutality of the scene ma

detail about how the werewolf's gaze had met hers, freezing her in place, sent a chill through me

e horrors of this war had a way of leaving a deep mark on those who witnessed them. I couldn't blam

I said softly, my heart aching for my friend. The world had becom

again. The war had brought out the worst in both witches and werewolves, and I could

d disgust bending my expression. The image she had painted was horrifying,

ness something like that." My voice held a wry tone, my disgust evident. It was di

riosity grew. Her words promised some

r expression spoke loud and clear even before she started talki

ock, disbelief, and dread washed over me. The thought that our enemies-the same creatures who ha

uelty flooded my mind-the betrayal, the pain, the humiliation. It was as if

re of my anger. The werewolves, who I had come to associate with sufferi

't help but feel a surge of resentment towards the werewolves. They had taken everythin

ustration and despair. The unfairness of it all weighed heavily on me. The witches' surr

world I had known had crumbled into chaos, and the ones responsible were now in c

solidifying in my words. Despite the overwhelming odds, I couldn't let go of my anger and my desire for just

ry to enforce anything new and bizarre on us that we are not comfortable with," Mira said, her wor

inst hope that the witches would be successful. The thought of the werewolv

ar. The uncertainty of what was to come weighed heavily on my mind. Mira's respo

" Mira's words seemed to carry a glint of excitement, even as she tried to hide i

't help but comment, noticing

playfully. Our laughter intertwined, momentar

ou for dinner, cool?" Mira's plan was set, and I nodded in agreement. As she

quickened at the unexpected sound. Who could it be at this hour?

e stood, as if a ghost from my past had materialized before me.

oice. Disbelief and shock mingled in my expression. It wa

questions flood my consciousness. How was this possible? After all this time

confirmed his identity. His tone was devoid of warmth,

ried for so long came back, clashing with the shock of seeing him again. My body trembled involunt

es, in love, in a future that was shattered. My heart felt like it was caught

e years. I was left standing there, speechless and vulnerable, face

ho had walked away from me without a second glance, was now the picture of power and strength. It was as if

f his face held no flaws, as though each curve had been carefully crafted by the hands of a divine artist. His eyes, once