Chapter 1164
Chapter 1164:
Pausing at the entrance, I stared up at the rusted iron gates, an unexpected pang of sorrow gripping me. The courtyard, choked with weeds and untamed growth, was lashed by a sharp, cold wind that sent brittle leaves swirling in an eerie dance, as though restless spirits lingered. The air was thick with the stench of rot, laced with a biting, coppery hint of blood that twisted my stomach.
Instinctively, I pulled my cloak tighter, my fingers quivering faintly. For reasons I couldn’t pinpoint, the scene before us stirred a deep, unsettling dread, as if we were walking into a carefully laid snare.
“Makenna, are you prepared?” Jett’s voice, steady and low, broke the silence, grounding me like a lifeline.
I turned to face him. Though his expression appeared calm, his eyes held a soft warmth as they rested on me.
“Yes,” I replied, keeping my answer short.
Jett stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Whatever happens, stay sharp. Keep yourself safe.”
I intertwined my fingers with his, clutching tightly as if that grip could tether him to me. He glanced at our clasped hands, a brief flicker of resignation in his gaze, before gently slipping free.
“Have faith in me, Makenna.”
As I met his eyes, a wave of grief tightened my chest, but I could only manage a somber nod. Jett moved forward, his hand grasping the gates’ latch. They screeched open with a jarring wail that cut through the quiet.
With a trembling breath, I trailed him into the castle’s depths.
Inside, darkness swallowed everything, pierced only by faint moonlight streaming through broken windows. The fragile rays cast long, distorted shadows across a floor blanketed in dust and strewn with debris.
Our footsteps reverberated like a pulse in the cavernous, empty hall. Suddenly, a harsh laugh shattered the stillness, so sharp it stung my ears.
Lᴀtєst ϲh𝓪ρtєrs ιn g𝒶l𝑛ovєls.𝓬0𝓶
I whipped my head up as a towering figure stepped from the shadows.
His face was severe, exuding a malevolent presence, with a taunting smirk curling his lips. His eyes glinted with haughty contempt. Behind him stood a group of figures draped in black, poised and waiting.
At the sight, Jett’s face paled, his hand twitching faintly at his side. My heart sank—I guessed the man’s identity immediately. Colt Bates, the eldest prince of the Wizard Clan.
Colt’s gaze locked onto Jett, his smirk broadening. His voice oozed mockery. “My dear brother, it’s been a while. Not even a greeting for me?”
Jett’s body stiffened, his eyes blazing with raw hatred.
His fist clenched, knuckles cracking, as he snapped, “Colt, shut up! You’re no brother of mine! Do you think I won’t kill you?”
I had never seen Jett so consumed by rage. His eyes glowed like coals as if they could reduce Colt to cinders.
Worried he would lose himself, I hurried to murmur, “Jett, stay calm.” He glanced at me, the inferno in his gaze dimming slightly.
With a deep breath, he nodded, though his fist stayed tight, his inner battle evident.
I turned a piercing stare on Colt, my eyes cutting like steel, and demanded, “Colt Bates, where are Alice and Winfred? What have you done with them?”
Makenna’s POV:
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