Chapter 216

Olivia

The weight of Ryan’s letter settled heavily between Nathan and me.

The looming threat of losing Elliot clenched at my heart, and I could see the tension reflected in Nathan's eyes as well. The room was thick with a tension I wished we could banish, but reality was unyielding.

After a few moments of heart-pounding silence, an idea sparked in my mind. Untimely, yes, but perhaps our only hope.

“The witch,” I murmured, meeting Nathan’s gaze. “We should consult her. Tonight.”

He immediately frowned, a mix of concern and doubt shadowing his features. “Tonight?” he asked. “You really want to do this now?”

I nodded slowly, my heart pounding with anticipation. “It’s the only way,” I said. “Ryan has given us three days… three days to hand over our son, or else we’ll face war. But the witch can help us. She helped us with Alvin’s hand, and I think she’ll help us now. It can’t wait any longer.”

Nathan was silent for a moment, pondering. Finally, with a firm nod, he pulled out his phone. “You’re right; we should go. I’ll have Clint and Levi watch the twins.”

…

As the evening shadows deepened, I couldn’t help but think about the challenges that awaited.

Going to the witch now, in the middle of the night, was a desperate move—one that held just as much peril as promise. But with the future of our family at stake, it was a risk I was willing to take.

The thought of facing the witch’s unpredictable nature filled me with trepidation, but deep down, I felt it was the right move. If only I could be sure that the choices we were making would lead to safety and not further danger.

The night was thick with an eerie mist, swirling around us as Nathan and I made our way to the witch’s hut, nestled deep within the forest's embrace.

As we approached, I could see faint tendrils of smoke escaping through the cracks in her makeshift chimney, the glow from inside casting eerie silhouettes onto the mist.

I hesitated for a moment, a knot of anxiety coiling within me. Nathan gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, though I could feel the tension in his grip.

“Ready?” he whispered.

I nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The door to the hut opened before we could knock, revealing the witch, her eyes peering intently at us, twinkling like stars against her wrinkled skin.

“You come at a desperate hour,” she remarked, her voice like wind rustling through dried leaves.

“We need your help,” I began, my voice quivering slightly. The air inside the hut was dense with a myriad of scents—herbs, burnt wood, and something more arcane. It was no different than the last time, but somehow, it felt stranger now. More urgent.

“The last time you came to me, you wanted to restore your friend’s hand,” the witch said slowly, deliberately. “Folly, really. But now, you come to me with something more grave.”

I nodded, swallowing. “My son—our son—”

“Come inside first,” the witch murmured, guiding us in through the open door as she looked around with suspicion. “The trees have ears.”

Shooting each other an apprehensive look, Nathan and I followed the witch inside. Once the heavy oak door was shut behind us, the air felt overwhelming and thick with the scent of sage and patchouli. A kettle of tea sat on the stove, whistling.

“Tea?” the witch asked.

“Um—Sure,” I said, nodding, not wanting to put her off by refusing her hospitality. “Thank you.”

While the witch carefully prepared three cups of tea with dried tea leaves, Nathan and I sat at her cluttered little table. Within a few minutes, the steaming cups were placed in front of us, and the witch was sitting across from us.

“Now… tell me everything,” she said, her striking gaze meeting mine through the steam billowing over her teacup. Something in me told me that she already knew everything, but was waiting for us to admit to it. All of it.

Taking a deep breath, I shared our predicament, from Ryan’s ultimatum to our fear of losing Elliot. She listened intently, occasionally nodding, her fingers stroking the intricate tattoos on her arm.

Once I finished, she seemed to contemplate for a moment before nodding and speaking in a soft voice, as though someone could be listening.

“There is one possibility… a fae changeling. I can summon one to take the form of Elliot. Hand the changeling over to Ryan and after a certain period, it’ll disappear, buying you more time.”

Nathan immediately stiffened beside me. “Messing with the fae?” he asked. “That’s dangerous. Their tricks often come with dire consequences.”

The witch fixed him with a piercing gaze. “Would you rather hand your real son over to the Redclaws?”

Nathan’s jaw tightened, his eyes reflecting a storm of emotions. “Of course not,” he admitted. “But there’s always a price when dealing with the fae. We can’t be sure of the consequences.”

She leaned back, her fingers playing with the vials and trinkets hanging around her neck.

“Life itself is a game of risks and prices, young Alpha. Sometimes we must choose the lesser of two evils.”

There was a heavy silence, the weight of our decision pressing down on us. I glanced at Nathan, seeing the battle of indecision in his eyes. He finally spoke, his voice low and strained.

“What do you need for the changeling?” he asked.

“A piece of Elliot’s clothing and a lock of his hair is all it will take,” the witch replied, her voice betraying no emotion. “And my payment, of course.”

“What sort of payment?” I asked, feeling my tensions rise.

The witch smirked, leveling her gaze with mine. There it was again: that same knowing look, two piercing eyes peering out at me from behind all of the wrinkles and snarled gray hair. Her face betrayed a woman of great age, but her eyes looked all too fresh.

“For this? A simple monetary payment will suffice,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “I quite like sapphires, too, if you have any. But even witches need money, you know.”

At the witch’s words, I let out a small, almost inaudible, sigh of relief. So she didn’t want anything too great; it was a comfort.

Nathan hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Alright. We'll bring everything you need.”

“Good.” The witch nodded slowly, taking a large sip of her tea. It was then that I looked down at my cup, only to realize that it was gripped tightly in my hands—and it was empty, although I didn’t recall drinking any of it.

The black tea leaves were stuck to the bottom of the cup, damp from the water. They were in the form of a serpent.

I swallowed, slowly raising my gaze to meet the witch’s unnerving stare. She seemed to be looking at me, into me. There was that knowing look again. The ghost of a smirk tugging at the corners of her thin lips. A serpent dancing in the depths of her eyes.

“What of your wolf, Olivia? Do you wish to free her from her chains? To lift the spell binding her?”

I paused, feeling a flutter of nervousness settle in my belly as my eyes widened.

“How… How did you know?”