Chapter 382


    382-Waking Up The Dead.


    Enya’s POV:


    “Let me go!” I tried to fight it, but the restraints were pretty tightly wrapped


    around my wrist.


    “I cannot. You have to make a decision. Listen to me carefully,” she let out a


    sigh when I demanded to be set free. It was as if she wanted me to willingly


    listen to her, even after the fact that she had kidnapped me.


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    “If you want your mates to be free of this curse, you need to be a good person


    and give back all the powers. Everything will be sorted out by itself.” She rubbed


    her palms together, preparing to grab something from the table on her left side.


    “This! It is your blood. If I want, I can do worse things with you. But I am giving


    you a chance to do the right thing and let go of these powers.” She was starting


    to sound rushed. She would constantly turn around to look outside the window


    and then look at me.


    “Fine. But I will speak to Mother Witch myself.” I stopped struggling and


    demanded to have a word with Mother Witch. Hearing her name made Moana’s


    face take on an expression of disappointment.


    “You said I needed to give the powers back, so I am ready to do it for the sake


    of my mates. But I will only give them back until shees and talks to me,” I


    repeated my demand, watching her click her tongue and let out a sigh of


    disapproval.


    “You cannot. Just give me all your powers, and you and your mates will be set


    free.” She straightened her posture again and mumbled, this time with much


    confidence. It surprised me that I had not heard from anyone else except her.


    “You are not nning to give the powers back to anyone, are you? You are


    keeping these powers for yourself,” I said, calcting her n quickly. It might


    have taken me a few hours to understand, but I realized she was ying with


    me.


    “It’s not your business. You are not a witch from our coven, so you better not


    judge me. I have lived a miserable life with a handful of magic because your


    mom took away all the magic that we were supposed to get. Now I want the


    magic back.” Her voice was heavy when talking about how my mom stole the


    powers from them.


    “And how are you any better than my mom? Wanting all the powers for yourself


    instead of giving them back to the mother witch so that she can distribute them


    evenly? You are not any better. So no! I am not giving you the magic. You can


    do whatever you want to do,” I raised my voice as I realized she wasn’t a victim,


    but another greedy witch like my mother.


    “I am nothing like your mother,” she yelled at me, raising her voice.


    “You are. Whether you like it or not. And what did you say about Thiago leaving


    me? He didn’t leave me because he couldn’t stand me. He left because I told


    him that the witch who cast the curse would have to sacrifice herself in order to


    save him. He isn’t stupid. He left because he didn’t want me to sacrifice myself


    for him. He left because he still loves me!” I shouted, anger bubbling in my


    veins.


    “No! He hates you!” she shouted, covering her ears to avoid me. The arrival of


    the storm seemed suspicious. The candles surviving the storm were a simple


    sign that it was something she had done.


    “What have you done?” I growled angrily, slowly feeling my powerse back.


    “What needs to be done? If you do not give me the powers willingly, the entire


    world will suffer the consequences.” Her voice became bitter as she opened the


    bottle containing my blood.


    “I would love to see you try,” I said, closing my eyes and resting my head on the


    pillow. My body turned hot, the energy spiked through my body, and soon my


    hands were free.


    I think she estimated it all wrong. Because when I got out of bed, her jaw met


    the floor. She was already in the process of pouring my blood onto the burning


    candles when I lunged at her and grabbed her by her neck. The bottle tripped


    out of her hands while I tackled her to the ground. I was going to hit her, but


    then my eyes followed her stare.


    A few drops of my blood had already spilled on the floor, and a candle had


    tripped over it. I was staring at it in silence, thinking, what could possibly go


    wrong with my blood being set on fire?


    It wasn’t until I turned to look at her that I found her smirking. She had evil


    sparkling in her eyes. I was still holding her by her neck while on top of her.


    “Say wee to the dead monsters,” she whispered. “They areing for you


    and for everyone you have ever loved.” Her smirk faded, and her eyes locked


    on mine.


    “What does that mean? What did you do?” I asked in fear, my breathing turning


    irrational.


    “I have used your blood to cast a spell. The dead monsters, the white witches,


    areing here to feed on your soul. I brought them back using a powerful


    witch’s blood. Let’s see how you will survive now,” she startedughing


    maniacally, making my heart tremble in fear when the building started shaking.


    “They are here,” she whispered, notughing anymore. Suddenly, the wind blew


    out all the candles, and silence engulfed the room.


    I was no longer applying any pressure on her neck. My eyes were wandering


    around in the dark to search for some light.


    A handlike sensation grasped the hair on the back of my head, and I was


    yanked away from her.


    “Arghh!” A scream left my lips when I tried to free myself, but there was nothing I


    could touch. They were made of mist