364 The Only Way

“And that is why you will pay for your wrongdoings.” My chest rose and fell heavily, my wolf pacing inside me, her growl vibrating with satisfaction.

With that thought burning in my chest, I teleported to the witch hunt. She was already seated on the ground, her head bowed low, lips moving in heavy incantations.

The witch tilted her head, studying me like I was a puzzle she’d already solved. “He has threatened you with the blood vow. Three days until you will be struck with a strange illness no one, not even you, can heal yourself.”

Olivia’s POV

I stared at Anita’s frail body slumped in chains, my chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. For a fleeting second, I wondered if I should tell my brother, if I should grant her request for mercy. But the thought twisted in me like a blade. Mercy for her? After everything?

I stepped forward until I stood right before her. “I need your help.”

“Sit.” She gestured toward a single couch.

“I was waiting for your visit,” she said calmly the moment I landed, without looking up at me.

I stepped closer to the bars, letting her see the hate burning in my eyes. “Anita, your death would be too easy. Too quick. Too merciful. But keeping you alive?” My voice dropped into a low whisper. “That means you will feel what I felt. The helplessness. The shame. The endless days where every breath is a curse.”

Anita’s cries filled the dungeon, echoing off the walls. But I didn’t flinch. I didn’t let my heart soften.

No.

Because for once, I wasn’t the broken one. She was. And I wasn’t going to let her escape so easily.

I sat back, my hands curling tight in my lap. My wolf growled, uneasy, but a spark of hope lit in my chest. If what she said was true… then Frederick wasn’t invincible. He could be killed.

The witch leaned forward, her voice dropping low. “Power as old as his can only be broken by one thing—the origin of his bond. To fight Frederick, you must first uncover the secret of his immortality. Somewhere, hidden, he has hidden his soul. Destroy that, and his body will follow.”

“Good girl,” my wolf purred, her voice fierce and pleased. “Don’t forget who she is. Don’t forget what she’s done.”

My lips twisted into a bitter smile. “Everything. I will gain everything.”

Her face crumpled as she shook her head, tears streaking down her hollow cheeks. “No, please… don’t do this. I was wrong. I know I was wrong!”

“Do you hear that?” I whispered, leaning closer to the bars. “That’s my wolf. And she’s not begging for your death. She’s savoring your suffering.”

Pity. That was the first thing I felt watching Anita beg for death. But as quickly as it came, pity was replaced with anger. Hot, sharp, bone-deep anger. It was as if my wolf was replaying every wound Anita had carved into me. Every humiliation. Every betrayal. If she had been given the chance to drive a dagger through my heart, she would’ve done it without hesitation. I knew that. She would not have pitied me. So why should I pity her?

Her words sent a chill down my spine. “Then what do I do?”

She smiled faintly. “Defeating Frederick is no small task, Olivia. He is three centuries old. His power is not just his own–it is layered with protection, charms, and the blood of those he has conquered. Fire will not burn him. Blades will not pierce him. And your abilities will have no effect on him. Not as he is now.”

My wolf paced inside me, restless, but I kept my face calm as I lowered myself onto the single couch she had pointed to. The air here smelled of herbs and ash, a heavy scent that clung to my skin.

Anita sobbed loudly, her body shaking as she pulled weakly against the chains. “Please, Olivia… please just let me die. You’ve won. You’re the winner. What more will you gain by leaving me like this?” she choked with pain.

The name alone made my jaw clench.

The witch shook her head slowly. “No one knows… no witch can see it. It is cloaked in a charm far older than I. You must find it yourself. That is the true task. But once you do, once you hold it in your hands, set it aflame. Destroy it. And then—even the slightest wound will be enough to end him.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “A vessel. His soul is hidden in a vessel. Until you find it and destroy it, you will never defeat him.”

“I need your help,” I said again, firmer this time.

My jaw tightened, and my nails dug into my hands. The sound of her voice—weak, begging—echoed in the dungeon like a sad cry. But all it did was remind me of how many times she laughed while I cried.

I took a slow step closer to the bars, meeting her hollow gaze with mine. “You want death?” I whispered, my voice low, almost trembling with the pain inside me. “You should’ve thought of that when you made me wish for mine.”

I swallowed hard, lifting my gaze to meet hers. “Where can I find this vessel?”

Finally, she lifted her head. Her eyes, strange and glowing faintly, locked on mine. “I know why you are here,” she said slowly. “Frederick.”

I didn’t flinch, though my stomach twisted. “Yes. And I will not give myself to him. I won’t. I need to know how to stop him. How to defeat him.”

I blinked, my heart pounding. “His… soul?”

“Have a nice day, Anita,” I said and didn’t wait to listen to her cries before storming out of the dungeon. Her loud cries filled the dungeon, but I ignored them. For once I didn’t want to be that kind-hearted girl everyone knew me to be. Maybe if I started hardening my heart, people would stop trampling on me like a rag. Speaking of that, I had to focus on Frederick. I couldn’t be called the spe