Magic Under Darkness

Ghost From The Past

CHAPTER TWENTY

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GHOST FROM THE PAST

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'... very much alive.'

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The night transformed into a somber canvas of dark grey clouds, obscuring the stars and extinguishing any glimmer of hope. It was in this oppressive gloom that Celeste awoke, her body wracked with intense pain and overwhelming agony.

She panted, her breaths coming in ragged gasps, and glanced around to find herself back in her mansion, lying in her own bedroom. Looking down, she saw the source of her torment: her body was drenched in sweat and naked beneath the covers, every inch of her skin marred by countless purplish-green burns. The wounds throbbed with excruciating pain, as though she were still being seared alive.

Celeste took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she steadied her racing heart. Gradually, dark purple smoke began to envelop her, a sign that her devilish powers had awakened. Within moments, the healing began, and soon her body was restored to its pristine state, free of any trace of the burns that had tormented her.

She stood up, shedding the covers, and made her way to the walk-in closet. With narrowed eyes, she carefully selected her clothes, preparing herself for the impending bloodshed.

A bloodshed she craved with a fierce hunger.

Without wasting any time, she hurried to the bathroom and stepped into a warm shower, letting the soothing water relax her muscles and calm her mind in preparation for the imminent battle.

Oh, she was more than ready to tear apart anything that dared to stand in her way.

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Celeste descended the stairs, clad in a simple black high-neck top and black skinny jeans, paired with black high-ankle shoes. As she moved down the staircase, a thick, dark shadowy smoke enveloped her form, and her steps grew so heavy that each one left a crack in the floor and echoed with a loud 'thud.' She continued this way into her enormous study room, fully aware that her men would be there waiting after the events in the forest. She was right—they were there, waiting, as she had just lost Alex to the vultures, she was now eager to crush beneath her feet.

However, upon entering the room, she found that no one dared to meet her gaze.

And that was precisely how she wanted it to be.

She stormed into her study room; her anger palpable. Everyone greeted her with slight bows of their heads but remained silent, their gazes averted. The atmosphere was thick with fear considering trepidation ran in their very bones, and those who dared to steal a glance at her saw only a black, shadowy form, settled into her seat at the study table, one leg draped casually over the other.

They couldn't discern the shape of a body within the shadowy form; all they could see were the piercing crimson eyes.

Crimson eyes, with both the iris and sclera glowing a deep, fiery red.

They immediately understood that they were not merely in the presence of an Alpha werewolf.

They found themselves in the presence of the most barbaric and unholy princess of their kind.