Fated To Not Just One But Three novel Chapter 460

Chapter 460: A Way

Olivia’s POV

I appeared in the old witch’s hut—the same woman who once helped me cast the spell that brought my mother out of her coma. The air inside was thick with smoke and the scent of herbs, just as I remembered. Luckily, she was there.

She sat cross-legged on the cold floor, her gray hair falling loosely over her shoulders, her eyes closed as she murmured an incantation under her breath. She must have sensed my presence, but she didn’t lift her head right away. Her fingers kept tracing glowing symbols across the dusty floor, her voice steady and deep, whispering in the ancient tongue.

I stood there for a moment, trying to catch my breath. My heart was pounding so hard it hurt.

When she finally spoke, her voice was calm, almost a whisper. "I was wondering how long it would take you to come."

I swallowed, my throat tight. "You knew I’d come?"

The old witch gave a faint smile without looking up. "A woman whose bond has been ripped apart never stays still for long."

Her words hit me like a blade. My knees weakened, but I steadied myself. "I need your help," I said, my voice breaking. "I can’t lose him to death."

Now she lifted her head, her sharp eyes locking on mine. "You still feel his soul calling, don’t you?"

I nodded, my tears spilling again. "Please... I can still sense him—faintly. He’s alive, but he’s slipping away. Tell me how to reach him. How to bring him back. Am I the special one? There’s something I can do, right?"

The witch studied me for a long, silent moment. Then she sighed and rose slowly to her feet, her joints creaking.

"Child," she said quietly, "Lennox is not gone... not yet. His soul still clings to this realm, though his body sleeps beyond mortal time."

My heart skipped. "You mean he’ll wake up?"

She nodded once. "Yes. But not soon. It could take years—five... ten... maybe twenty. Time moves differently for souls that wander between worlds."

My breath caught. "No," I whispered, shaking my head. "No, I can’t wait that long. There has to be another way. Something I can do now."

The witch’s lips curved faintly, almost pitying. "There is always a way," she said. "But it comes with a price."

"I don’t care about the price," I said quickly. "Tell me."

She moved closer, the floor creaking under her bare feet. "Every night, you must wound yourself," she said. "Just enough to draw a drop of blood. That drop you will feed him—place it on his tongue before dawn. I will perform a ritual at the same hour, guiding your life force into his."

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. "Will it work?"

The witch’s eyes smirked. "You are far more powerful than you realize, Olivia. You have not yet been stretched to your limits. The strength of a rubber band," she said, raising a wrinkled finger, "is known only when it’s pulled."

Her words sent a shiver down my spine.

"It will not take long," she continued. "If you do this faithfully, seven nights will be enough. By the seventh dawn, he will gain consciousness."

Those words from her relieved me, but something in her voice made me pause. "You said it comes with a price," I murmured. "What kind of price?"

The witch’s expression darkened. "That," she said softly, "I do not know. Each resurrection demands something different. A soul cannot return from the other side without paying for its passage."

I frowned. "You mean he’ll be... changed?"

"Changed," she repeated, her eyes distant. "In ways we cannot predict. But he will live. His body will breathe, his eyes will open, his heart will beat again. The only thing I cannot promise... is that he will return the same."

I felt my stomach twist. "What do you mean?"

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