The Omega Mated To The Four novel Chapter 52

The Omega: Mated To The Four

Chapter Fifty Two

The massive wooden doors groaned as they swung open, revealing grand hall that seemed to stretch endlessly. The ceiling was impossibly high, adorned with floating candles and shimmering lights that bathed the room in a warm, golden glow. Long tables stretched across the floor, each packed with witches dressed in robes of various shades, chatting animatedly. But the moment we stepped inside, silence fell like a heavy curtain.

Every witch turned to look at us.

The scraping of chairs echoed as they stood, their eyes fixed on me and my mates. I could feel the weight of their stares pressing down on us, curiosity and awe radiating from their expressions. My wolf stirred uncomfortably, growling faintly as if sensing something amiss.

Rowena led the way down the aisle, her stride confident and unfazed The only sound in the room was the soft echo of our footsteps on the polished stone floor as we walked toward a raised platform at the far end of the hall. My stomach churned with nerves.

At the head of the platform, 32 witches sat behind a long table, each dressed in striking scarlet robes. Their presence was commanding, their gazes sharp and piercing. My eyes darted to the one in the center–a woman with a veil covering her face. It was Mother, the same woman who had greeted us earlier with her gentle yet unsettling aura.

I leaned toward Rowena and whispered, “Who are they? The witches in scarlet?”

Rowena glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “They are the High Witches, the most powerful and influential among us.”

I frowned. “But I thought there were only seven High Witches?”

Rowena’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “That was a long time ago. Much has changed since the old days. Now there are thirty–two, each representing different aspects of our magic and our people.”

As we approached the platform, I couldn’t help but notice the way the witches in the hall were staring at my mates. Some of them whispered to one another, their eyes lingering on Elijah, Isaiah, Alex, and Austin. My wolf bristled inside me, a low growl rumbling in my chest.

Mine.

I clenched my fists, willing my wolf to calm down. This wasn’t the time for possessiveness, no matter how much I wanted to bare my teeth at the witches ogling them.

Mother rose gracefully from her seat and descended the steps of the platform. She moved with an air of authority, her veiled face obscuring her expression, but her posture radiated warmth. She stopped in front of me and took my hand in hers, her touch surprisingly warm for someone who carried such immense power.

“Stormi,” she said, her voice soft yet firm. “Did you rest well?”

I nodded, trying to ignore the way the entire room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for my response. “Yes, I did. Thank you.”

Mother’s veiled head tilted slightly as if studying me. Then she turned her attention to my mates, her gaze lingering on each of them before returning to me. “Good. You will need your strength for what lies ahead.”

The other High Witches remained seated, their faces a mix of curiosity and quiet intensity. They were of varying ages, ethnicities, and demeanors–some looked serene and wise, others sharp and intimidating. Their collective presence was overwhel

Rowena gestured for us to take our seats. The five of us were guided to a smaller table directly in front of the platform, facing the High Witches. As we sat down, I felt Elijah’s hand brush against mine under the table. When I turned to look at him, he gave me a reassuring squeeze, his gaze steady and protective.

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Chapter Fifty Two

Mother stepped back to the platform and raised her hands. “Tonight she began, her voice resonating through the hall, “we welcome not just guests but saviors. Among us sits the future of all ir people–a Silver Wolf,”

A murmur rippled through the crowd, and I felt every eye in the room shift back to me. My face burned with discomfort, and I resisted the urge to shrink into myself.

Mother continued, her tone reverent. “The Silver Wolf is a symbol of hope, a beacon of strength in the face of our greatest enemy. We gather here tonight not only to honor her but to prepare her for the trials that await.”

The applause that followed was polite but subdued, the atmosphere Heavy with reverence. My unease deepened, but Elijah’s hand remained steady in mine, grounding me.

Mother raised a hand, and the hall fell silent once more. “Let the feast begin,” she declared.

As if on cue, the air shimmered with magic. Plates and platters began floating through the room, carried by invisible forces. The aroma of roasted meats, fresh bread, and exotic spices filled the air, making my mouth water despite my nerves. The dishes glided gracefully to the tables, settling down with soft clinks.

The witches around us began to eat and chatter again, their earlier whispers replaced with lively conversation, I picked at the food on my plate, my appetite dulled by the lingering tension.

Rowena leaned over from her seat, giving me a knowing look. “You’ll get used to the attention. They’re just curious.”

I forced a smile, though I doubted her words. Being the center of attention wasn’t something I thought I’d ever grow accustomed to.

Elijah leaned closer, his voice low enough that only I could hear. “Please eat something.”