Callista had barely set foot in the witches' clan when the hostility hit her like a cold wave. The moment Sabrina stepped aside, revealing her to the rest of the witches, their eyes bore into her with judgment and distrust. Whispers filled the air, and Callista could feel the weight of their contempt pressing down on her.
"You chose a werewolf," one of them spat, her voice dripping with disdain. She was tall, with jet-black hair and cold, calculating eyes. She stepped forward, her hands crackling with magical energy. "You disgrace your kind, joining with the enemy. Do you think the witches will accept you, traitor?"
Before Callista could respond, Sabrina stepped in, her voice smooth and commanding. "Enough, Aria," she said, her tone unwavering. "Callista is here on my order. She has a role to play. No one will harm her."
Aria didn't look pleased, but she backed off, her eyes lingering on Callista with clear disdain.
As Sabrina guided her deeper into the clan's stronghold, Callista couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this than just her being a traitor. She had always known the witches would be skeptical, but the venom in their words, the challenge to her very presence, felt personal.
Later that evening, as Callista rested in a room provided to her, she overheard hushed voices coming from a nearby chamber. Her heart skipped as she recognized the tones—sharp, tense, plotting. Quietly, she crept closer, straining to hear.
"She'll be useful... until we get what we need," one voice said—smooth, calm, and familiar.
"I don't trust her," another responded. "She's one of them now. We shouldn't be playing nice. If the werewolves are so powerful, we should eliminate her now before she grows stronger."
Callista's pulse quickened as she realized the conversation was about her. It wasn't just that the witches wanted to use her—some of them wanted to eliminate her entirely. They were planning something sinister, something she wasn't ready for.
But what exactly were they planning? And what role did Sabrina play in all this?
Unable to listen further, Callista backed away, her mind racing with possibilities.
The next day, the tension between her and the witches continued to grow. As if it wasn't enough that they saw her as a disgrace, the pull of her bond to Lucien, the mate bond that she couldn't escape, was becoming unbearable. His emotions radiated through her, tugging at her heart and mind. She couldn't block him out, no matter how hard she tried.
It hit hardest when she was alone, sitting in a quiet garden within the clan's grounds. For a moment, she could feel Lucien's pain. A sharp, wrenching pain that tore through her, causing her chest to tighten. Her hand instinctively went to her heart, and she gasped, wondering what was happening to him.
"Lucien," she whispered, but there was no response. Her bond with him was so strong, yet in that moment, she felt utterly powerless.
But even through the pain, she couldn't ignore the growing connection between them. Deep down, she knew she was doing the right thing by staying here. But the question loomed—was it worth it? Was this the destiny she was meant to follow? Or was she walking into a trap?
As if the universe wanted to test her loyalty further, the witches presented her with an unexpected challenge the next day. Sabrina had arranged a duel, a test of her magical prowess, in front of the clan's leaders. Callista wasn't sure what to expect, but the glint in Sabrina's eyes told her it was a challenge meant to prove more than just her skill—it was meant to break her.
Her opponent was a tall, dark-haired witch with silver eyes that seemed to pierce through her soul. His presence was commanding, powerful. He looked at Callista as if she were nothing more than an obstacle to be removed.
"Defend yourself, hybrid," he sneered, his voice filled with venom.
The duel began, and Callista barely had time to react before the first wave of magic hit her. She stumbled, but her reflexes kicked in, remembering the survival spells her mother had taught her. The magic she wielded was wild, unrefined, but she could feel it surging within her.
But it wasn't enough. Her opponent was stronger, faster, and more experienced. Every spell she cast was countered with ease. Callista could feel her energy draining with each passing second, the strain of the magic she was forced to use sapping her strength.
She remembered Lucien, and the weight of the bond—the pull of his love, the yearning for him. But it wasn't enough to save her in this moment. Her vision blurred as the last of her magic was exhausted, and she collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily.
The crowd gasped, some witches looking disappointed, others just watching with cold detachment.
Sabrina stepped forward, her eyes glinting with something unreadable. "You fail," she said. "You are not strong enough yet. Perhaps you are not ready to be one of us."
Before Callista could respond, a deep, familiar voice filled her ears. "That's enough."
Her wolf screamed out loud that it shook the entire coven.Callista huffed and was about to make her way out when Sabrina's voice stopped her.
"There are somethings you still don't know"