<h4>Chapter 627: epting The Fault</h4>


    <strong>Evaline:</strong>


    For a long moment after River finished speaking, no one moved.


    The forest around us had grown eerily quiet, as if even the wind had paused to listen. The fire in the pit crackled softly, orange and blue mes licking at the ckened logs, casting long shifting shadows across the pavilion.


    My gaze stayed fixed on Morwen.


    When I first came here, I thought forcing the truth out of the witches would be like trying to pry open a locked vault with bare hands. They were too guarded, too proud, too practiced in silence.


    Even now, part of me expected Morwen to simply refuse again. To close herself off and end the meeting.


    But as River’s warning settled over the gathering like a storm cloud, something changed.


    At first it was subtle - asmall tightening around Morwen’s eyes, the faint tremor of breath leaving her lungs. Then her gaze shifted.


    Slowly, deliberately, she looked to her right... toward the only other witch in the circle who carried the same quiet authority she did.


    She was an older woman with streaks of silver braided into her dark hair. Her posture had remained straight and still throughout the entire conversation, but now she met Morwen’s look with something deeper.


    A silent exchange passed between them and itsted barely a second.


    The other elder gave a small nod - tight, barely noticeable... but unmistakable.


    My heart skipped... because I sensed their change of heart even before Morwen exhaled. It was a deep, weary breath that seemed to carry centuries of weight with it.


    And in that moment, watching the way her shoulders lowered just slightly, I realized something that sent a strange ripple through my chest.


    She had been holding this in.


    For a long time.


    And now... now she was about to let it go.


    I straightened slightly in my chair, anticipation tightening my muscles.


    River remained perfectly still beside me, but through our bond I could feel his focus sharpen.


    Kieran had leaned forward too, his gaze locked on the elder witch.


    Morwen opened her mouth.


    But before a single word could leave her lips... a sharp, angry voice cut through the pavilion.


    "This is ridiculous!"


    The younger witch shot to her feet so suddenly her chair scraped loudly against the stone floor.


    Her eyes burned with fury as she looked from Morwen to me, then to River.


    "No," she snapped, shaking her head fiercely. "I refuse to sit here and listen to this."


    The fragile shift in the atmosphere shattered instantly. Several witches looked at her in surprise, but the young witch didn’t care.


    She pointed straight at me. "Youe into our home," she said harshly, "spin theories from half-decayed records and stolen archives, and then stand here pretending you have uncovered some grand truth."


    Her lip curled.


    "As if witches need to answer to wolves."


    I felt River tense beside me. The pressure of his aura flickered for the briefest moment before he forced it back down.


    Kieran’s irritation surged through our bond too.


    But I stayed quiet and let her speak.


    She turned on River next.


    "And you Alpha Thorne," she said bitterly, "you throw around threats about the council like we should be afraid."


    Herugh was sharp and humorless.


    "Of what? Wolves stomping into our territory and demanding confessions?"


    Her gaze swept the circle. "They came here because they can’t solve their own problem," she dered.


    Her finger jabbed toward the ground usingly. "These soul deaths? It’s their mess. Their failure."


    Then her eyes snapped back to me. "And now they want to pin it on witches because it’s convenient."


    Her voice grew louder with every word. "They want to me the covens in the woods. me our ancestors. Anything but admit that the mighty wolves can’t handle their own crisis."


    My hands tightened slightly in myp.


    The witch took a step forward, ring openly at River. "And now you are trying to ckmail us," her eyes shed, "Threats about the council? Investigations?"


    She scoffed.


    "You think intimidation will make us confess to crimes we didn’tmit?"


    The other witches around her shifted uneasily, but none interrupted.


    Her anger had taken overpletely now. "You wolves have always been the same," she continued. "Arrogant. Self-righteous. Always looking for someone else to me when things go wrong."


    Her gaze returned to me, sharp and using. "And you-" her voice dripped with contempt, "You expect us to believe that your little research project somehow proves witches are responsible for soul deaths centuries ago?"


    Sheughed again. "That rune could have been carved by anyone. Even by one of your own kind."


    She folded her arms across her chest as she continued, "And now you show up here waving old maps and theories like they are evidence."


    The hostility in her voice was impossible to miss.


    "You want help?" she snapped. "Then stop ying your me game and admit the truth."


    Her eyes shed between River, Kieran, and me.


    "You don’t know what’s happening. And you are desperate."


    The fire crackled loudly.


    For a moment, it felt like the entire forest had leaned in to listen. Then...


    "Tamsin."


    Morwen’s voice cut through the tension like a de. It wasn’t loud, but it was absolute.


    The younger witch froze.


    "Mind your words," Morwen said calmly.


    Tamsin turned toward her, frustration still burning in her eyes. "Elder, they are using our ancestors-"


    "I said," Morwen repeated, sharper this time, "mind your words." The authority in her tone left no room for argument.


    Tamsin opened her mouth again. "But-"


    "That is enough." The finality in Morwen’s voice shut her downpletely.


    Tamsin clenched her jaw. For a moment, it looked like she might continue arguing, but something in Morwen’s gaze made her stop.


    The younger witch exhaled harshly and dropped back into her seat, though the anger still radiated from her like heat from a me.


    Morwen didn’t look at her again. Instead, she turned her full attention toward us. Her gaze shifted between Kieran and River... beforeing to stop at me.


    Her eyes held mine for a long moment... and then she spoke, "You are not wrong."


    The words were quiet, but theynded like thunder.


    Every witch in the pavilion stiffened.


    Tamsin’s head snapped up in disbelief.


    Morwen continued before anyone could interrupt. "Your investigation," she said slowly, "is not wrong."


    The silence that followed felt heavier than anything that hade before.


    My pulse quickened.


    River leaned forward slightly beside me.


    Kieran had gonepletely still.


    Even the fire seemed quieter now.


    Morwen sped her hands loosely in herp. Her voice carried none of the defensive edge it had earlier, only resignation.


    "The chamber beneath your academy," she said. "And the soul deaths." She paused briefly. "They are both consequences of our ancestors’ mistake."


    A collective gasp rippled through the witches. And Tamsin shot to her feet again. "No," she said sharply. "That’s not-"


    But Morwen lifted a hand, and the younger witch fell silent.


    Shock spread across the pavilion like wildfire. Several witches stared at Morwen in disbelief.


    Others looked down at the ground as if afraid to meet her gaze.


    The other elder remained quiet, though the tension in her shoulders had be visible now.


    No one spoke.


    No one rushed Morwen to continue.


    Because now that the truth had begun to surface. There was no stopping it.


    Morwen drew in a long breath. Her eyes lifted toward the dark canopy of trees above the pavilion... and when she spoke again, her voice carried the weight of centuries.


    "This began four hundred years ago." She looked back at us. "At the vige that once stood where your academy is now."