?Chapter 968:


    The air that day had shimmered with unspoken tension, punctuated by an impulsive kiss, his distinctive scent, and the fleeting warmth of his skin brushing mine.


    A flush crept up my cheeks, and I coughed lightly to veil my fluster. “So… could Antoni have acquired the aphrodisiac from the Wizard n itself?”


    Jett’s eyes narrowed, his chiseled features half-draped in shadow, lending him an aura both perilous and maic.


    “This particr aphrodisiac is exceedingly rare,” he replied, his tone cool andposed. “Even I’ve only heard whispers of it. That suggests not only did it originate with the Wizard n, but it’s likely a prized concoction, reserved solely for their elite nobility.”


    “Reserved for the Wizard n’s nobility?” I asked, piecing it together.


    I nodded, connecting the dots. “That strengthens the notion of a deep alliance between the Harrison family and the Wizard n. How else could Antoni possess something so exclusive?” I shifted my gaze to Jett, awaiting his insight.


    Jett offered a curt nod, his demeanor growing solemn, a fleeting spark in his eyes hinting at something I couldn’t quite grasp.


    His breadth of knowledge never ceased to impress me. I knew he bore the mixed blood of werewolves and the Wizard n, yet his true origins remained a mystery—a riddle that now piqued my curiosity to its core.


    Unable to resist, I asked, “Jett, are you truly just an ordinary hybrid of the Wizard n and werewolf lineage? How did you be so adept at crafting potions?”


    Jett’s frame stiffened visibly. He turned to me, his gaze briefly flicking away, a strained smile tugging at his lips.


    “Just amon hybrid,” he replied, his voice rough and evasive. “I suppose… I’ve been fortunate. A touch of natural knack, perhaps.”


    My brow furrowed, doubt prickling at me.


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    I had scarcely crossed paths with others from the Wizard n, but Evelyn—another hybrid—offered a benchmark. Her skills paled beside Jett’s; hybrids, it seemed, weren’t typically so gifted in potion crafting. And then there was his past. Jett had left the Wizard n in his youth, spending years at my mother’s side before enduring over a decade in captivity. Isted from the world, devoid of formal training, how had he honed such mastery?


    Beyond that, his familiarity with obscure potions and rare ingredients gnawed at me. Could this truly be chalked up to mere talent?


    Makenna’s POV:


    A whirlwind of thoughts swirled through my mind, long-forgotten clues now moring for attention like uninvited guests. The more I mulled it over, the more Jett’s behavior seemed cloaked in mystery.


    “Jett, who are you, really?” I demanded, my gaze piercing into his. “You’re not just some run-of-the-mill hybrid, are you?”


    At my blunt question, Jett’s eyes flickered like a candle caught in a draft. He quickly dropped his stare to the ground, dodging my scrutiny. With a strained smile, he brushed it off.


    “You’re letting your imagination run wild. If I weren’t an ordinary hybrid, why would I stick by your side like a loyal shadow? What’s in it for me?”


    His reasoning sounded smooth as silk, yet it failed to unravel the knot of doubt tightening in my chest. His response felt too polished, like a rehearsed line meant to deflect prying eyes.


    I furrowed my brow, ready to dig deeper, but Jett cut me off with a quick pat on the shoulder.


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