Aurora’s P.O.V

    My breath hitches as their words unraveled before me like a twisted prophecy written in blood. They spoke of it so casually, as if they weren’t describing the systematic ughter of entire covens, the brutal harvesting of magic from the dying screams of innocent witches. I could feel the bile rise in my throat, my fingers curling into fists on the stone, but I forced myself to listen. Because I had to know. I had to understand exactly what kind of monsters I was dealing with.

    “We would wait for a sr eclipse,” Harmona continued, her voice eerily calm, as if she was reciting a bedtime story rather than recounting centuries of horror. “But the eclipses are extremely rare.”

    I swallowed hard, my mind racing. Sr eclipses were rare, spaced too far apart to be a reliable means of sustaining their unnatural existence. But that wasn’t the worst part. That wasn’t what made my skin crawl and my stomach twist in knots.

    “We realized the power of a single coven wasn’t enough,” she went on, her eyes dark with something I couldn’t name–was it regret? Fear? Or was it simply eptance of the horrors that had already been done? “We needed more. That’s when we turned to the dark arts, searching for a way to break free from the cycle of temporary youth, of stolen years that always ran out. And we finally found it. A way to achieve true immortality.”

    My heart pounded in my chest as she spoke the words I already knew wereing. “Five hybrids. Five beings of mixed blood, each one abination of different supernatural races, each one carrying a unique kind of power. They need to be sacrificed together, along with an entire coven’s magic, toplete the ritual. That will be enough. That will finally grant us what we want–the ability to live forever, never aging, never dying, never needing to kill again.”

    My stomach clenched at the twisted irony of it all. They had spent centuries killing to extend their lives, only to reach a point where they could end the cycle with one final act of mass ughter. And the worst part? They weren’t just seeking immortality. They wanted power. Unmatched, absolute power. If they seeded, they wouldn’t just be eternal–they would be unstoppable.

    I exhaled shakily, my nails digging into my palms. The weight of their words settled over me like a suffocating fog. Five hybrids. A full coven. An entire generation of magic, wiped from existence, just

    so they could reign as the most powerful witches the world had ever seen.

    I knew thenb, /bwith chilling certainty, that I couldn’t let it happen. Even if it meant putting myself in their crosshairs. Even if it meant running, hiding, fighting against forces far beyond my own strength. Because if they seeded, if they got what they wanted–there would be no one left to

    stop them.

    “And you see, hybrids are incredibly rare too,” Lucas continued, his smile turning sinister. “So I made. my own. The perfect hybrids, and better yet, with my own blood running through your veins. The

    perfect sacrifices.”

    I stared at them, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it would burst from my chest. The air in the room felt thick, suffocating, as if the walls themselves were closing in. Lucas and Harmona stood before me, their expressions eerily serene despite the madness that swirled in their eyes. I finally understood—these two weren’t just cruel, they weren’t just

    onsters. They were maniacs. They had

    lost their minds, and soon, we were all going to lose our lives to them.

    My throat was dry, but I forced the words out, each syble dripping with a mixture of anger and desperation. “If you already had Harmona, then why did you create so many other offspring?” My voice trembled, but I refused to back down. “Why did you im to love my mother?b” /b

    Lucas chuckled, a deep, mocking sound that sent a chill down my spine. His eyes glowed with amusement, as if I were nothing more than a foolish child asking pointless questions. “Love?” he echoed, tilting his head slightly.

    “Oh, Aurora… You were all so na?ve.” He stepped closer, his presence suffocatingb, /bhis smirk widening. “Did you really think I ever loved your mother? That any of you mean something to me?”

    My breath hitched. I felt the weight of his words settle deep in my chest, crushing what little hope I

    had left.

    Lucas turned his gaze to Harmona, his expression shifting into something almost reverent. “My real love,” he murmured, reaching out to touch her cheek with an almost sickening tenderness.

    “Has always been Harmona. My wife.”

    Harmona smiled at him, her lips curling in satisfaction, her dark eyes flickering with something ancient and powerful. My stomach twisted.

    Then, as if the universe itself responded to the darkness in the room, the skies outside darkened. Thick, rolling clouds swallowed the light, plunging everything into an unnatural gloom. A sudden gust of wind rattled the windows, the air growing colder, heavier. My skin prickled with unease.

    Lucas turned to Harmona, his voice calm but filled with purpose. “It’s time,” he said, his fingers tightening around hers. “Let’s start the ritual.”

    My pulse spiked, my body tensing. I wanted to run, to scream, to fight–but the look in their eyes told me it was already toote.

    imed by My Bully Alpha