The Unknown POV :
A low, furious groan tore out of my throat as consciousness returned—slow and cruel, like waking from a nightmare only to realize the nightmare wasn't over.
My eyes snapped open.
And I froze.
I was in my apartment.
My apartment.
I shot up in bed so fast my pulse exploded in my ears.
"What the hell…?" I whispered, breath sharp. "How did I get here?"
The air still smelled wrong—like burnt ash and broken spells. My head pounded as if someone had cracked my skull and poured fire inside.
Then I sensed him.
A presence near the corner.
I turned sharply.
My boyfriend stood there—tense, worried, human.
He walked toward me, his footsteps soft, careful… like he could calm me with gentleness.
"Hey," he said, voice trembling. "Are you okay?"
He sat beside me and reached for my hand.
I jerked away instantly, like his touch was poison.
"What are you doing here?" I snapped, irritation cutting through my voice like a blade.
He flinched.
"My love… your assistant called me," he explained quickly. "She said you fainted. So I came to check on you."
I clenched my jaw so hard my teeth hurt.
Fainted?
Pathetic word.
I hadn't fainted.
I'd been humiliated.
I'd been struck down like a helpless novice.
By her.
I swallowed my rage, forcing a fake calm into my face—because humans were fragile things, and he didn't deserve the truth.
"I'm fine," I lied smoothly, forcing a smile. "I have to go to work. We'll talk later."
He nodded, relieved.
He stood up, walked toward the door… and paused.
"If you need anything," he said softly, "just call me."
Then he left.
The door clicked shut.
And the moment I was alone—
my control shattered.
I groaned, shoulders trembling with the effort of restraint… but rage was too hungry.
Too alive.
I inhaled.
Then screamed.
Not a normal scream.
A witch scream—pure power ripping out of my throat.
The living room erupted.
Furniture flew back like they were weightless.
Picture frames exploded off the walls.
Glass shattered violently—
windows bursting outward like the apartment itself couldn't survive my anger.
"I AM GOING TO KILL THAT BITCH!" I roared.
The air pulsed black.
Shadows curled against the ceiling like snakes.
My magic thundered through the apartment, choking it, claiming it, bending reality until it screamed.
Footsteps entered behind me.
But I didn't care.
"Enough!" my assistant shouted, voice shaking. "STOP!"
I turned toward her slowly.
She stood near the doorway, terrified but trying to be brave.
Her hands trembled.
Her eyes widened when she saw the destruction.
My lips curled in a smile that wasn't human.
"I'm going to kill them both," I hissed. "She attacked me."
My voice deepened, vibrating unnaturally—rage twisting it into something monstrous.
"She attacked me." I spat, stepping closer. "ME. The Black Witch."
To release the burning fury inside me, I screamed again.
The walls shook.
The ceiling cracked.
Magic slammed into the furniture like invisible fists.
My assistant finally lost patience.
"CALM THE HELL DOWN!" she yelled—then lifted both hands.
She began chanting.
Not sweet magic.
Not gentle.
A hard, cold spell.
The air vibrated as her words cut through the chaos like chains.
The scattered furniture snapped back to its place.
Broken glass reformed.
Windows healed.
Within seconds, my apartment returned to normal—
too normal.
Too clean.
Too quiet.
But I wasn't.
I grabbed my hair with both hands and paced like a wild animal trapped in a cage.
My mind replayed fragments of what happened—
blurred, broken flashes…
but two things were clear as blood:
The Gifted Witch was alive.
Her sister was with her.
And worse—
they were in New York.
I would never forget their faces.
Never.
They had made my life hell once.
Now I would return the favor tenfold.
I walked toward the study room.
Pushed the door open.
And went straight to the bookshelf.
There was a specific shelf… the one no human would notice.
I pressed my palm against the spine of an ancient book.
The shelf shifted with a soft click.
Hidden behind it—
a biometric lock.
Cold metal.
Black runes carved into the edges.
I placed my thumb against it.
Beep.
The lock recognized me.
And the wall opened.
My secret room.
My witch room.
The heart of my darkness.
Inside, the air smelled like wax, dried herbs, blood ink, and old spells. Candles lined the walls—black, red, violet. Bones hung from hooks. Spell jars. Sigil scrolls.
Everything I had ever stolen from forbidden covens…
stored here.
Waiting.
I stepped in.
And the door sealed itself behind me.
I moved straight to the ritual table and pulled out a large map—unfolding it with reverence.
New York.
My hands tightened into fists.
"Let's see where you're hiding," I whispered.
I grabbed a black candle—the locator candle, used for tracking bloodline energy.
My favorite kind of magic.
The cruel kind.
I lit it.
The flame rose instantly—unnatural, sharp, black at the edges.
I placed it in the center of the table.
Then I drew a circle around it with salt and ash.
I leaned forward, whispering:
"Blood calls blood… power calls power…
Show me the Gifted Witch."
The candle flame flickered.
Then bent.
Pointing.
Searching.
And as the flame began to dance wildly, an evil grin stretched across my lips.
I stormed toward the study table, my footsteps sharp against the floor.
My hands were still trembling—rage, humiliation, hunger.
Without hesitation, I yanked open the top drawer and grabbed the knife.
Cold metal.
Sharp.
Familiar.
As I turned back to the ritual table, I felt it—
A presence.
I paused.
My assistant stood a few feet away, watching me with wary eyes.
"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice tense.
I didn't answer.
I flipped the knife open.
And with one swift motion, I slit my right palm.
Pain flashed bright—then turned into satisfaction.
"I need to locate them now," I groaned.
Blood spilled instantly, thick and hot, dripping onto the map I'd carefully arranged in a circle around the candle. The ink soaked it like a curse.
The candle's black flame flickered.
As if it recognized the offering.
I began to chant, pouring every ounce of my power into the room.
Words older than language.
Words that tasted like bones and smoke.
My blood shivered.
Then—
It moved.
Like it was alive.
A smile spread across my lips.
"There you are," I whispered.
The blood trails began crawling over the map, forming lines—routes—roads—symbols. Faster and faster…
But then my smile faltered.
The lines weren't becoming clear.
They weren't pointing toward a location.
They were…
scribbling.
Snarling.
As if something unseen was fighting my spell, corrupting it, twisting it into nonsense.
My brows furrowed deeply.
"What…?"
Suddenly—
The candle burst into a blinding red glow.
Not normal fire.
Not witchfire.
A terrifying, sacred heat.
Then the flame twisted—shaping itself into wings…
A PHOENIX rose from the fire.
My breath caught violently.
I stumbled back.
"No…"
My voice shrank into disbelief.
"How is this possible…?"
The phoenix screeched without sound.
The fire swelled—
Then exploded.
A blast of raw energy tore through the room.
The map disintegrated into ash in seconds.
The candle shattered into dust.
And the shockwave slammed into me like a truck.
I flew backward—
crashing into the corner of the room.
Pain exploded down my spine.
"Shit!" I cursed, coughing.
I pushed myself up, trembling with rage—and saw my assistant standing untouched.
Protected.
Her eyes glowed faintly with magic.
"Stop your obsession over them!" she yelled.
I snarled.
"I am going to kill them all!"
I surged forward.
My assistant stepped closer, her expression tightening.
Then her voice dropped—dangerous and calm.
"Will you listen to me?"
I shot her a dagger-like glare.
Her brows lifted slightly.
And then she snapped her fingers.
In one instant—
my body froze.
No movement. No control.
Not even my breath felt like mine.
"No… no… don't do it—" I hissed, trying to fight the spell.
But it was useless.
I couldn't move a muscle.
The worst spell in existence.
The kind that stripped power from witches like me.
I hated it.
I hated her for using it.
She sighed, like she was exhausted.
"Can you listen to me now?" she asked.
I glared with every ounce of fury my frozen body could hold.
"I don't have an option," I hissed through gritted teeth. "Speak."
She walked slowly, voice sharp and logical.
"Your rage, anger, and obsession are ruining you," she said. "Yes, those sisters are driving you insane. But locating them won't work right now."
My nostrils flared.
"They cloaked themselves," she continued. "After the attack… they placed a veil. Strong wards. Cloaking magic over the sisters and their families."
Then she snapped her fingers again.
The spell released.
My body jerked back to life like breath returned to my lungs.
I stood tall, furious, folding my arms across my chest.
"So what?" I spat. "What do you want me to do?"
She held my gaze.
"Wait," she said. "Wait for the right time."
I laughed.
Not joy.
Not humor.
A broken, furious laugh.
"WAIT?!" I screamed.
My voice echoed off the walls.
"I have waited for a year to get back into his life!"
My chest heaved.
"And now that bitch… that gifted witch… she took him from me!"
My eyes burned with hatred.
"I won't let that happen," I hissed.
Then my voice dropped into something darker.
Something lethal.
"He is the True Alpha," I whispered.
My assistant's eyes widened slightly.
"Yes," I continued, smiling slowly. "And he has no idea."
I licked the blood from my palm.
"Which makes him vulnerable."
I stepped closer, my voice shaking with excitement.
"Once I get back into his life, I will take my revenge."
My hands clenched.
"For rejecting me."
"For humiliating me."
I leaned forward like a serpent ready to strike.
"I will kill him with my bare hands."
"And I will take his power."
The words tasted sweet.
Then my smile twisted wider.
"And that gifted witch?" I whispered. "She will suffer too."
My eyes narrowed into slits.
"For taking my place."
I looked at my assistant, voice dripping venom.
"I promise the Goddess," I said, "I will make her suffer… while she watches her beloved true mate die in front of her eyes."
My assistant stared at me.
Then she nodded once.
Quiet. Controlled.
"Wait for the right moment," she repeated.
And then she left.
The moment the door shut, my breathing slowed.
I moved toward the left corner of the room and grabbed the woollen sheet covering an easel.
I ripped it off—
Revealing my collection.
A board filled with photos.
The sisters.
Their family.
Their friends.
Their loved ones.
And at the center—
him.
Vasudevan Prabakaran.
The True Alpha.
And beside him—
the gifted witch.
I picked up a red marker.
My hands were steady now.
Not shaking.
Not angry.
Focused.
I drew a thick red cross over his photo.
Then another over hers.
My lips curved slowly.
My eyes gleamed.
"I will take away everything you love, Mr. Vasudevan Prabakaran," I whispered.
I leaned closer to the board like it was an altar.
"I am going to kill your beloved sweetheart…"
My smile widened.
"But before that—"
I traced the cross again.
"She will watch you die."
I inhaled, satisfied.
"I promise you that."