The Alphas Revenge: The Sin of Deceit

Chapter 69: Successful

Gessia:

Horia had given me all the details and left nothing out. Every step, every warning, every possible outcome had been made clear. Yet even with that, I couldn’t shake the lingering worry that something would still go terribly wrong.

Relief only came when I saw it.

The faint green sparks of life—visible, real—streaming steadily toward Rex.

That was enough to ground me.

Raven’s screaming, however, was not.

It grated on my nerves, sharp and unending, and for a brief moment I reconsidered my decision not to give her anything for the pain. It would have made things quieter. Easier.

But then I remembered.

The way she had spoken to me. The way she had looked at me.

And just like that, any doubt disappeared.

I had made the right decision.

How dare she?

She was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Just a vessel.

Her screams meant nothing to me as I raised my voice, chanting louder—much louder than before. Loud enough to drown her out, loud enough that her pain became background noise I didn’t have to acknowledge.

The life energy flowed exactly where I wanted it.

Most of it went to Rex, as intended, but I made sure to divert some toward myself. Carefully. Deliberately. Feeding my core, strengthening it bit by bit.

Enough so that one day, I wouldn’t struggle to draw mana from the air.

That kind of ability wasn’t common. It took time—years, sometimes—and even then, only a few witches ever truly achieved it.

But I wasn’t one to give up.

Not now. Not ever.

So I kept chanting. Louder. Stronger. Pushing harder with every word.

Pulling as much life energy as I could from the spawn inside her.

Unborn children were still malleable—that was the key. Their energy wasn’t fixed, not yet. That was why I could take from it so freely.

Her own life energy, though?

Untouchable.

It had already solidified over time, rooted too deeply for me to draw from.

Glancing at Rex, I saw it.

The look in his eyes.

Bliss.

And I understood it completely.

There was something addictive about it—doing absolutely nothing while feeling your body strengthen, your life force swell, your very being reinforced from within.

It was intoxicating.

I smiled faintly before closing my eyes again, letting myself sink deeper into the chant, pushing until my voice grew stronger, until the energy continued to pour.

Until—

It stopped.

The flow dried up.

Raven’s screams faded into weak, broken whimpers.

Immediately, I fell silent.

There was nothing left to take.

I had drawn all the life energy possible.

Bowing my head slightly, I murmured my thanks to the goddess of life for a successful ritual before turning toward the table.

Everything had gone as planned.

I picked up the slightly pink potion I had prepared beforehand, holding it carefully as I walked over to Raven.

There had only been enough ingredients to make one.

"This will make you feel better," I murmured under my breath.

I grabbed her jaw, turning her face toward me without resistance, and poured the potion down her throat.

She was too weak to fight me.

Too weak to even glare properly.

But she drank.

And when she realized it eased the pain, she drank the rest with something close to desperation.

"That will ensure that whatever remnants are left in your belly are flushed out," I said with a light chuckle. "The last thing I need is to kill the golden goose."

She didn’t find it funny.

I didn’t care.

Pushing her back onto the bed, I turned away, carrying the empty bottle with me and placing it back on the table. I started arranging the remaining potions, already thinking ahead—what I could reuse, what I could save myself the trouble of gathering again.

The herbs alone were difficult enough to find.

I had just started when Rex spoke.

Behind me.

He had already gotten to his feet from where he had been kneeling.

I paused, waiting.

Expecting gratitude. Awe, even.

Something that acknowledged what I had just done.

Instead—

"It’s over?" he asked.

There was a daze in his voice.

Confusion.

"How can it be over?" he continued, like he genuinely couldn’t understand why it had to end.

I frowned slightly, not turning around immediately.

"How could it?" I replied, continuing to arrange the potions in front of me.

"I’m speaking to you, Gessia!"

His voice snapped sharply, and before I could react, his hand grabbed my arm, jerking me back.

I turned, startled—and then annoyed.

The anger in his eyes caught me off guard.

What did he have to be angry about?

"That’s how much life energy the spawn had," I explained slowly, like I was speaking to a child. "...There’s nothing more because that’s all there was."

I wanted to leave.

More than anything, I wanted to walk out and go straight to my own space, to finally rest.

I had been preparing for this ritual for days, and on top of that, the star had run away, turning my morning into chaos. Questions from pack members, suspicions, explanations—

I had to frame it carefully.

Make it seem like Raven had been taken, not that she had escaped on her own. The last thing I needed was someone acting on anger and killing her.

"...Well maybe you took too much!" Rex snapped.

The force of it made me instinctively step back.

My anger cooled instantly, replaced by something far more practical.

Awareness.

I might be skilled with potions, but physically?

I couldn’t stand against him.

Not even with enhancement.

I was weak.

That much was obvious.

"...I only took the bare minimum we agreed on," I said, more carefully now. "You didn’t think it would last forever, did you? Besides, I’m sure you’ve gotten stronger too."

He didn’t look convinced.

If anything, his frown deepened.

"...Could we have gotten more if the spawn had lived longer?" he asked. freewebnovel.cσ๓

My eyes widened.

Immediately, I shook my head.

Horia’s warning echoed clearly in my mind—there was a limit. Push beyond it, and it would come back to bite us.

"Could we?" he demanded again, fury rising, his presence pressing down on me.

I shook my head again.

"No. It wouldn’t have been worth the time we’d waste," I said quickly. "Two more, and then it would be your turn. A month is the best timing."

That seemed to settle him—barely.

He groaned, stepping back, the tension in him easing just enough.

But he still looked pissed.

I watched as he turned and headed for the door, clearly intending to leave.

And only then did I let out a quiet breath of relief.