Whoops, His Mistress Crashed Our Wedding. Mine Didn't novel Chapter 75

Chapter 75

We leave Zion’s room in silence. No one speaks. Not until we’ve crossed the threshold of the pack house and are deep enough in the woods that even the shadows feel safer than Tolaris‘ halls.

“Tell me we’re not actually considering believing them,” Noah finally says, voice low, furious.

“They had my blanket,” I murmur, fingers curling at my sides. “Zion kept it.”

“That doesn’t mean…” Xavier starts, but stops when I glance at him.

“I don’t want to believe him either. I don’t want any of this to be real, but

it is.”

Levi places a steady hand on my back. “We need more. A blanket, a vision, or whatever… It’s not enough to know what’s happening. We need proof. We need that witch.”

“Salira,” I whisper.

“Where would Marcus keep her?” Haiden asks. “If she’s as dangerous as they said, she wouldn’t be allowed to roam free.”

“Somewhere deep,” Xavier answers, jaw tight. “Protected. Likely enchanted.”

“He used her to lock my memories away,” I say. “There’s a chance… she still has a tether to my mind.” I glance at Noah. “Is that possible?”

He frowns, thinking. “There could be residue. Traces.” He meets my eyes. “But if we try to extract it, it’s going to hurt.”

“I can handle pain.”

“You don’t understand,” Noah says. “We’ll have to pull apart the boundary between what you remember and what is locked. You’ll be reliving every sensation. Every fear.”

“Do it.”

Xavier growls low under his breath. “Envy…”

“I need answers. No more pieces. No more half–visions or twisted memories. I need to see what she took from me.”

Levi nods slowly. “Not tonight, you’ve been through enough. First, we eat and then we rest properly.”

Levi’s words hang in the air, heavy and final.

Xavier speaks his voice gravel. “Let’s run home, Maddox wants out.”

The others nod. One by one, their bodies blur, flame, shadow, and lightning flashing through bone and fur. Hellhounds emerging. Lexhale slowly, grounding myself. My skin splits, but it doesn’t hurt. It sings. Fur spreads across my limbs like smoke given form. My claws dig into the earth and Layah breathes with me.

“We needed out of there, she murmurs, “That place was poison.”

“It still is“, I reply, ears flicking back as the others fall into formation beside me, “And we’ll have to go back.”

“I know.” She huffs. We run. The wind rushes past, carrying the scents of moss and ash, of old blood and distant flame. The forest peels away around us, parting like it knows not to stand in our way. The trees groan under the weight of our presence but inside me, the storm churns. He said I was a weapon, I think.

“Because that’s all he could see, Layal answers. “They always fear what they don’t understand. So they name it. Cage it. Twist it until it fits their vision of control.”

“And I let them.”

“You were a child“, she growls. “Now you are not.”

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“Do you think he’s right?” I ask.

“I think power like ours was never meant to be tamed and we will do great things.”

“Are we dangerous? A risk?”

“Everything is. But you don’t become dangerous when you mark them, Evelina. You already are. You just haven’t stopped apologizing for it.

“You think they’ll still want me when shit hits the fan?” I ask quietly.

Layah’s voice is a low, rumbling laugh. “They already know enough. And they’re still here. Running beside you. Ready to fight gods for you.”

I look ahead. The trees are thinning. Beyond them, the outer ridge of the Red Moon Pack glows like the breath of a hearth fire, warm, steady, waiting. Home.

“I hope so,” I whisper.

We break the tree line and cross the warding stones, paws hitting soft earth as the packhouse looms in the distance.

The run slows. Flames retreat. Fur recedes. One by one, we shift back, bare feet on dewy grass, lungs heaving, hearts pounding with something more than exhaustion.

The Red Moon packhouse greets us with warmth and silence. No questions. No judgment. Inside, the lights are low. Food waits on the long table, stew still warm, bread freshly torn, fruit and salt and honeyed tea. The quiet kind of offering that says we see you without demanding anything in

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