Alpha's STOLEN Mate (by Abigail Hayes) novel Chapter 122

Chapter 122

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I stood at the entrance of the Forbidden Sanctum with Frost, staring at what could only be described as the mouth of hell itself. The cave opening was carved directly into the mountainside-a gaping black maw that seemed to swallow light whole. The surrounding landscape was desolate, nothing but jagged rocks and dead vegetation, as if life itself had decided this place wasn’t worth the effort.

The darkness of the entrance sent an uncomfortable chill down my spine, triggering memories of that cursed cave where I’d nearly killed

Frost and Kaius. But I couldn’t afford to be afraid. Not now..

I stepped forward, but Frost’s hand shot out to stop me.

“Wait,” he said, concern etched across his features. “Are you absolutely certain about this? You know Lysandra’s potions usually come with… significant side effects. And she doesn’t trade with just anyone.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “She’s complicated. Unpredictable. Everything depends on her mood that day.”

I crossed my arms, jutting out my chin defiantly. “What other choice do we have? You got a better plan for overcoming magical interference in the short term?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Besides, on the way here you told me you get your potions from her. You’re clearly regular customers. With your relationship, she should give me what I need.”

A flash of something-discomfort? regret?-crossed Frost’s face. He clearly had reasons for not wanting to return here, though I couldn’t

guess what they were.

“Just… let me go in first and announce you,” he said with obvious reluctance. “Wait here.”

I stared at him incredulously. “I’m a white wolf. I need to be announced?”

But he was already disappearing into the darkness.

I stood there fuming, my foot tapping impatiently against the rocky ground. What kind of ridiculous protocol is this?

After what felt like an eternity, Frost emerged looking oddly pleased.

“I spent forever trying to convince her that bringing a friend to buy potions wasn’t breaking her sacred rules,” he said with a hint of amazement. “She kept refusing. But the moment I mentioned you were a white wolf…” He shook his head in disbelief. “Her entire demeanor changed. She said she’s never seen a white wolf before and agreed to meet you.”

“Great,” I muttered. “So she’s doing me a massive favor by deigning to see me? Fantastic.” I followed him toward the entrance, grumbling under my breath. “Why does every witch I meet have to be so difficult? You’d think with personalities this terrible, their kind would’ve gone extinct by now.”

As we walked deeper into the cave, my initial dread began to fade. The oppressive darkness gradually gave way to soft, ethereal lighting. The air filled with the most intoxicating herbal scents-earthy and sweet and somehow magical. The tunnel opened into something

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Chapter 122

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The cultivation chamber was massive. Rare herbs hung from ceiling racks in carefully organized rows, their leaves catching the mystical light. The ground was covered with exotic flowers arranged in meticulous patterns, and strange fungi grew in specially controlled environments that seemed to defy natural law. It was part greenhouse, part laboratory, part wonderland.

In the center of this botanical paradise stood a girl with snow-white hair cascading down her back, delicately collecting nectar from a

luminescent flower.

Do all witches freeze their age at twenty? I wondered with a mix of envy and exasperation.

“Lysandra,” I began carefully. “I’d like to purchase a potion from you. Something to resist magical interference.”

Lysandra set down her collection vial with deliberate slowness. When she turned to face me, her eyes swept over my form with clinical

assessment.

“So this is what a white wolf looks like in human form,” she mused. “Mediocre.”

Heat flooded my face. “I’m not here for a beauty contest! I need a potion! Something to resist mental magic-magical intrusion into my

mind!”

Lysandra’s expression shifted to mild annoyance. She glanced at Frost with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Beta, I only agreed to see her. I never promised to trade.” Her voice took on a lecturing tone. “You know I do business based on… compatibility. Mood. Sometimes I give potions away for free-like some of yours. But other times?” She shrugged elegantly. “You couldn’t pay me a hundred times their worth to part with them.” She gestured around the chamber. “Besides, strangers who show up without proper appointments, interrupting my work on Moonpetal Harvest Day? That’s rather presumptuous, don’t you think?”

Frost’s expression grew pained. “Lysandra, I apologize for disrupting your harvest schedule. But please, try to understand our urgency. We wouldn’t have come unannounced if the situation weren’t desperate.”

Lysandra’s smile widened with unmistakable delight. “Well! You should know by now that witches have no natural capacity for sympathy. Your desperation only makes this more… entertaining for me.”

I felt anger surge through my chest. She actually just admitted that out loud? I was about to tell her exactly what I thought of her twisted amusement when Frost shot me a warning look.

I forced myself to swallow my pride. “Fine. Name your terms. I can offer more than money. I know witches have unusual tastes. Maybe I have something you want-or can do something you need. Whatever it takes, I’ll trade for that potion.”

Lysandra’s eyes gleamed with approval. “Good! You’re finally learning how things work.” She stood, brushing off her hands. “Let’s see what you’ve brought me to bargain with.”

She began circling us slowly, her white hair trailing behind her like silk. I stood rigidly, trying not to let my impatience show. This felt absurd-like being inspected by a particularly finicky cat.

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Then she stopped. Not in front of me.

In front of Frost.

Frost’s face flushed red, his eyes darting away uncomfortably.

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“I know what I want now,” Lysandra announced with satisfaction. “I want your Frost. If you can lend him to me for one week of labor, I’ll

give you the potion.”

“My Frost?” I sputtered. “I said something on me! You can’t just negotiate with him without asking!”

Lysandra laughed, a sound like wind chimes in a graveyard. She reached out and placed her hand directly over Frost’s heart. He froze,

looking mortified but not daring to move.

“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” Lysandra purred, her fingers tracing small circles on his chest. “I thought white wolves were supposed to have superior perception. How disappointing.” She tilted her head, studying me with amusement. “But I haven’t made a mistake with my price. You see, I’ve discovered that Frost’s heart is in your-

“I accept,” Frost cut her off sharply, removing her hand with firm resolve. His voice came out cold and professional. “Give her the anti-

magic potion. We need to save our Alpha.*

I stood there frozen, my mind reeling. Confusion and sudden understanding crashed over me in waves, leaving my thoughts in chaos.

Lysandra’s smile turned knowing. “How touching. Though I do wonder-are you more concerned about saving your King? Or your Queen?”

Frost’s expression darkened dangerously, his jaw clenched tight.

My heart was suddenly racing for reasons I couldn’t quite name. The implications of what had just happened—what Lysandra had almost said, what Frost’s reaction meant-it was too much to process in the moment.

Lysandra glided over to a cabinet filled with crystalline vials and selected one containing a shimmering silver liquid. She pressed it into my hands, her fingers cold against mine.

“This particular potion has minimal side effects,” she said, her tone shifting to something almost professional. “But don’t forget- remember how you obtained it. And why it was given to you.”

My face burned as I clutched the vial. The weight of her words hung heavy in the air.

I managed a stiff nod to Lysandra, unable to meet Frost’s eyes. “Thank you. I’ll… I’ll come back for him in a week.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” Lysandra said with another mysterious smile.

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Alpha’s STOLEN Mate