CHAPTER 192: CHAPTER 192: TRUTH ABOUT WITCH MOTHER

Serena’s POV

After Vaelen left, I sat down again on the bed. The room was quiet. Only the sound of the wind touching the window.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my thoughts. I told myself not to think too much now. Not about him. Not about them.

I had chosen this path myself. I would walk it till the end. No matter how hard it became.

The brothers... I pushed them into a corner of my mind. I’d think about them later. When I was ready. For now, I had work to do.

I pulled out a small notebook from under my pillow. It was simple, with pages filled with scribbles and glued notes. I opened it and started pasting the new papers I had collected over the past few days.

On every page, there were names. Words. Symbols only I could understand.

In the center, written darker than all others, was one name... Elarliya.

My so-called fake mother.

My hand stopped for a moment when I looked at that name. My chest felt tight again, but I didn’t let it stop me.

A week ago, I finally found out the truth.

We had been attacked from all sides. Everything was going fine before that... too fine, maybe. Then suddenly, chaos. And in the middle of it, I saw the sign. The same energy, the same power signature I once knew too well.

It was her.

The witch helping the werewolves was the witch mother.

For a long time, I couldn’t even believe it. My heart refused. The woman who had raised me, taught me, lied to me, abandoned me... was the same one behind all of this.

The pain turned to anger that night. The kind that burns quietly, steady, deep.

I gripped my pen tighter as the memory came back. The smell of fire. The screams. The blood.

I had been badly injured. I remember falling, the world turning black. And when I woke up later, she was there. Smiling at me like nothing had happened. Pretending to care.

And I fell for her trick... once again.

For days, she was feeding me lies that I was her daughter, even going as far as to change my appearance... my existence.

So I could perfectly fit in her pathetic story. And I did, without even realizing it. She had completely manipulated my mind and my memories. All I remembered was only her and no one else.

I was weak then. I believed her. I almost did.

But she forgot one thing.

You cannot control a pure-blood witch. Not truly... even if you are the most powerful witch... because you are still a hybrid.

Even if my body was broken, my soul remembered what she had done. And slowly, my memories came back.

I could see her lies falling apart, one by one.

A small smile crept on my lips. "You almost had me," I whispered, writing the words down in my notebook. "Almost."

I made sure to mark everything... dates, places, spells, faces, everything I could recall. I wouldn’t let her twist my mind again.

I wrote until my fingers cramped. Until my hand started shaking. But I didn’t stop.

Then I remembered something else. That royal guard. The one who pulled me out from the ruins during the rogues’ attack. I didn’t even know his name. But he saved me.

When he put me in front of those mindless wolves, I saw flashes... of battles, magic, symbols from the old spellbooks I’d trained with. Pieces of my old self coming back.

Those memories saved me.

I realized then how much she had messed with my mind. How deeply she had planted her lies.

Never again, I told myself. Never again will I forget who I am.

I flipped another page and drew a small mark... a spiral inside a circle. A seal of remembrance.

"This time," I whispered, closing the book, "I’ll remember everything."

I sat there for a long time, staring at the closed notebook on my lap. The silence was heavy, but it didn’t scare me anymore.

Because for the first time in a long while, I knew who the real enemy was.

And it wasn’t the alphas or werewolves. It was her... all along.

After finishing my notes, I sat still for a while. The candle beside me burned low, its flame flickering softly against the wall. I leaned back, my hands resting on the closed notebook, my mind running in circles again.

I needed a plan. I couldn’t just sit and wait anymore.

The witch mother had already crossed every line. If I wanted answers, I had to go after her myself. But to do that, I needed to understand what she really wanted.

And the more I thought about it, the more one thing became clear.

That woman was obsessed.

Not with me.

But with him.

My father.

My jaw tightened as I thought about the man I had called a few days ago. I still didn’t know if he was really my father or not. His voice had been calm, low, and distant... the kind that carried power but no warmth.

When I asked him questions, he avoided them. When I asked what his past was, he went silent.

That silence told me more than any words could.

If he really was my father, then what kind of relationship did he have with my real mother... and with that woman, Elarliya?

It didn’t make sense. Nothing did.

If Elarliya knew that I was the child of the man she loved, then how could she raise me? How could she smile at me every morning, touch my hair, tell me stories, and pretend to love me like a mother would?

My throat tightened as the memory of her gentle smile came back, the way she used to hum old songs while brushing my hair, calling me "my little moon."

My chest ached at the thought. It had felt so real then.

"Was it all fake?" I whispered, my voice shaking slightly.

I bit my lip hard. The thought made me sick. How could someone stoop so low, to use a child like that, to pretend to be a mother, just to win the affection of a man who never cared in the first place?

What kind of love was that?

My eyes hardened. "Love?" I muttered. "No. That’s not love. That’s madness."

But there was still something that didn’t fit.

My real mother.

Sameera.

Just saying her name made my chest tighten. And yet, in all of father’s stories, there was always another name.

Elara.

The lover of my so-called father.

Not Sameera.

I frowned, tapping my fingers against the table. I tried to connect the dots, but nothing fit. If Elara was the lover, and Sameera was my mother, then where did my mother fit in this story?

Had Elarliya just been using me, just because I somehow resembled him? And my mother had no connection with him? So basically, I was just a pawn?

I sighed, rubbing my temple. "It’s like everything about my life is just one twisted story," I muttered.

I had even asked for Elara’s picture once. The man I thought was my father refused. Said he didn’t have one. But I knew he was lying... I could hear it in his voice.

I just wanted to see her. Maybe because I hoped Elara and Sameera were the same person. Maybe because I wanted something to make sense. But now even that small hope felt foolish.

My hand clenched around the notebook.

"What are you hiding, all of you?" I whispered under my breath.

The more I thought about it, the clearer it became... Elarliya’s game was deeper than I ever realized. Pretending to be my mother, creating false memories, even claiming I was her and that man’s child... it wasn’t love. It was obsession.

But why? What did she get out of it?

I didn’t understand. None of it made sense. Unless... maybe she wanted to keep me close not because she loved me, but because she wanted to own me. To own everything that man had once loved.

A bitter laugh escaped me. "Pathetic."

Still, another question burned in my chest.

If that man was truly my father, and if my mother was once his lover, then why did he never come for me? Why did he let me live under a lie for so long?

My chest tightened again, this time with anger.

"If he’s really my father," I whispered, "then he’s no better than her."

I could feel heat rising under my skin... that cold, quiet fury that had been sleeping inside me for years.

"Damn them both," I muttered. "I’ll find the truth. And when I do, I won’t let either of them walk away easily."

My fingers moved on their own, writing those words in the notebook... a promise, not just notes this time.

I closed the book and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

The candle flickered one last time before going out, leaving the room in complete silence.

I sat there in the dark, my face calm, my heart anything but.

Tomorrow, I would start digging. I’d find out who Elara really was. Who my real father was. And what Elarliya wanted from all of this.

Because if that woman thought she could play me again, she was wrong.

This time, I was ready.

Let’s see this time who played who...