<h4>Chapter 624: Not Weed By The Witches</h4>


    <strong>Evaline:</strong>


    The forest grew thicker the deeper Kieran drove.


    Tall trees leaned inward as if whispering among themselves, their branches knitting together to filter thete afternoon light into a muted green glow. The air felt heavier here... not suffocating, but aware.


    When the car finally slowed to a stop, my pulse kicked up despite my efforts to remain calm.


    Kieran stepped out first. And a secondter, he opened my door.


    I climbed out of the car, smoothing my coat instinctively before lifting my gaze to take in our surroundings.


    The first thing I noticed was River’s ck car parked a short distance away. Even from here, it felt unmistakably his - sleek, controlled, deliberate. Seeing it steadied something inside me.


    Then my attention shifted to the woman who stood under an archway woven from thick vines and pale winter roses.


    A witch.


    Her gaze flicked to Kieran first, and she bowed politely. Then her eyes moved to me... and she gave me a brief nod in acknowledgment.


    Nothing more.


    I didn’t need mind-reading abilities to understand what that meant - I wasn’t unwee exactly, but I wasn’t wee either.


    Which was fair.


    I hadn’te here to make friends.


    I felt Kieran’s hand settle at the small of my back - warm, solid, grounding. It was a silent reminder that I wasn’t walking into this ce alone.


    I let out a small breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and stepped forward.


    The witch turned without another word, motioning for us to follow.


    The dirt path beneath our feet was narrow and uneven. I couldn’t help but notice all small details, including the protection charms and warnings.


    Kieran’s hand remained at my back as we walked in silence.


    After several minutes, the trees opened into a clearing.


    And there it was.


    The house looked like something from a forgotten painting.


    The moment I stepped fully into the clearing, something brushed over my skin. It was cold, weightless, clearly magic.


    A ward.


    It slid across me like mist, probing, testing. My heartbeat stuttered, but I forced myself not to react outwardly.


    The witch didn’tment.


    She simply led us around the side of the house toward the backyard.


    Voices reached us first - low,yered, indistinct.


    Then I saw them.


    My eyes immediately found River. He sat with effortlessmand, his posture rxed yet unyielding. Jasper stood just behind him, silent and watchful.


    The second River saw me, something in his expression shifted. It was subtle but unmistakable - warmth.


    He rose halfway from his seat and extended his hand toward me.


    For a fraction of a second, I hesitated.


    Every eye was on us - assessing, measuring.


    But then I reminded myself why I was here.


    I ced my hand in his, and his fingers closed around mine, firm and reassuring. And just like that, the nerves eased.


    He guided me to the empty chair beside him.


    Kieran stepped forward, greeting one of the witches with a respectful nod. "Elder Morwen," he acknowledged.


    So this was Morwen.


    She looked no older than fifty, but her eyes held centuries.


    She inclined her head at Kieran before her gaze moved to me.


    River’s voice broke the silence.


    "This is Evaline," he said steadily. "Our mate."


    A ripple passed through the circle.


    Shock.


    Real, unfiltered shock.


    Not because I was his mate.


    But because of the word <i>our.</i>


    I felt heat crawl up my neck as the witches’ gazes sharpened.


    River continued smoothly, "She is mated to me and my brothers."


    That did it.


    Even Morwen’sposed expression flickered.


    For a brief second, I wanted to sink into the ground.


    I hadn’t expected him to introduce me that way. Not here. Not in front of witches who already viewed us with suspicion.


    But at the same time... something inside me warmed.


    He hadn’t hidden it.


    Hadn’t softened it.


    Hadn’t diminished it.


    I lifted my chin slightly and met Morwen’s gaze.


    She studied me with renewed intensity.


    "Evaline," she greeted calmly.


    "Elder Morwen," I replied, dipping my head respectfully.


    The introductions settled as the fire crackled softly.


    River’s thumb brushed lightly over the back of my hand, and then he released me and leaned back in his chair.


    I turned slightly toward him and opened the mindlink between us. It had formed the night he marked me. It was a quiet thread of connection that felt like warm light weaving through my thoughts.


    <i>Trust me</i>, I told him gently. <i>Let me handle this.</i>


    There was no hesitation from him, no questioning, no resistance.


    The weight of the room shifted almost imperceptibly as he leaned back fully, signaling the subtle transfer of control.


    My heart pounded harder, but I didn’t let it show.


    I took a slow breath and faced Morwen.


    "I got to know you have declined involvement in the soul death cases," I began evenly. "And that you have refused to examine the chamber beneath the West Tower of Silver Moon Academy."


    A witch on the far left... the youngest looking one, sharp-eyed and visibly irritated... scoffed under her breath.


    Morwen shot her a disapproving nce before returning her attention to me.


    "We have withdrawn from such matters," she said calmly. "We do not entangle ourselves in the conflicts of the outside world."


    Her tone wasn’t hostile.


    Just firm.


    I smiled.


    Not warmly.


    But knowingly.


    "I understand your reluctance regarding the investigation of soul deaths," I said. "On the surface, it appears to be a matter of wolves."


    The young witch’s lips pressed together tightly.


    "But what I don’t understand," I continued, my voice steady and measured, "is why you would refuse to even look at the chamber."


    The air shifted.


    Subtly.


    The witches straightened almost imperceptibly. Even Morwen’s gaze sharpened. "The chamber’s existence does not prove ourinvolvement," she replied.


    "No," I agreed. "But the spellwork does."


    A faint ripple moved through the circle again.


    I felt the nerves w at my stomach, but I held eye contact.


    "That chamber carriesyers of spells and magic," I said. "Complex. Intentional. Preserved."


    I leaned forward slightly.


    "And whether it was cast yesterday or centuries ago, it belongs to your kind."


    The fire crackled louder, as if punctuating my words.


    Morwen’s expression remained unreadable.


    "We are not responsible for every spell cast in history," she said quietly.


    "Of course not," I replied smoothly. "But if a spell exists - one that may connect to soul deaths - and it was crafted by witches... then it concerns you."


    Silence settled heavily around us. Even the younger witch stopped fidgeting.


    I could feel River beside me - steady, silent, supportive.


    I kept my chin lifted.


    "You say you have withdrawn from the world," I said. "That you do not involve yourselves in wolf affairs."


    My gaze moved slowly around the circle.


    "But this isn’t about wolves."


    I paused.


    "It’s about magic that shouldn’t exist."


    And I let those words hang between us.