The Witch's Last Embrace

Because I saved my husband during a car accident, I lost my eyesight.

He wept, promising to treat me well for the rest of our lives to repay my sacrifice.

I cooperated with the treatment wholeheartedly, hoping for a full recovery. But on the day I finally regained my sight, I stumbled upon something that shattered my world.

In our marital home, his first love lay beneath him, her flushed face betraying the passion of the moment. Their bodies intertwined, and the air around them thick with stifled moans—a vivid tableau of infidelity.

"She's just a blind woman. Why haven't you divorced her yet?" the woman murmured impatiently, her voice laced with disdain as she moved against him.

My husband, immersed in pleasure, still mumbled an excuse. "My love, just a little longer. Soon, we'll be together openly…"

I turned and left without a word, pretending I had seen nothing.

As I walked away, I remembered the witch's sacrificial ritual in the misty forest—only a few days away.

My husband's betrayal cut deep, carving wounds I couldn't ignore. I made up my mind to return to the forest, to embrace my identity as a witch once more, and to sever all ties with him.

Yet, after I disappeared, word reached me that he was searching for me everywhere like a madman. Rumor had it he had completely lost his mind.

The first thing I did after regaining my sight was to look for my husband.

I couldn't wait to share the good news with him, to celebrate together.

But when I returned home, the sight before me struck me like a knife to the heart.

In the bedroom, Luci Dalgon was entangled with another woman.

His eyes were clouded with desire, his voice hoarse, his body moving rhythmically. Beneath him, Jasmine Barns clawed her nails into his back, her voice restrained as she whispered, "Wait… not yet. She's here…"

But Luci, caught in the heat of the moment, only moved more fervently.

Sensing his heightened passion, Jasmine smirked, her gaze falling mockingly on me. She pulled him closer, as if she wanted to meld him into her very being.

"Ah!" he groaned loudly, his voice rough with frustration. "Oh, I couldn't hold back… now I'll have to switch to another one."

Jasmine handed him the used contraceptive, her eyes signaling what needed to be done. "She's back. Go deal with her."

My face turned pale.

Luci got up, walked toward me, and said with an unbothered expression, "Jasmine twisted her ankle. I was just helping her with a massage. Also, I've got a fever. Could you get me the medicine from the table?"

As he spoke, he casually tossed the contraceptive into the trash.

The air was heavy with the stench of betrayal.

I clenched my jaw, pretending to fumble blindly as if I hadn't regained my sight. But the overflowing trash can, littered with contraceptives and scattered lingerie, gnawed at my insides.

A wave of nausea surged through me, nearly overwhelming me. My stomach churned violently, but I forced myself to steady my trembling hands and passed him the so-called "fever medicine."

Undressed, Luci accepted it with a smug grin, as if receiving a trophy, then knelt before Jasmine, his head tilted back like a dog awaiting praise.

She stroked his head affectionately before kissing him with abandon. Their passion reignited, and he scooped her into his arms, carrying her effortlessly.

They stopped a mere meter from me.

"You have to give me a deep massage, okay?" Jasmine said, her tone dripping with false innocence as she towered over me. Behind her, Luci's hands roamed her body, his kisses relentless.

"Sorry," she continued, her words a deliberate taunt. "I just really needed a massage, and Luci's hands are magical. You don't mind, do you? After all, you're his wife. I'm just a poor, injured woman."

Her provocation was clear, yet instead of feeling ashamed, Luci seemed to revel in her words, his actions growing bolder under her influence.

"Tonight, I'm exhausted," he said nonchalantly. "I'm not feeling well. You can sleep in the study."

With that, they returned to the bedroom, resuming their sordid affair without even bothering to close the door.

My vision blurred with tears as I stood there, my heart splitting into fragments.

Even as I witnessed this scene, I had already resolved to leave.

But the pain—the unbearable pain—refused to subside. It felt as if my chest was being crushed, my heart writhing in agony.

In the haze of their passion, I closed my eyes and reached out with my mind, calling upon the High Priestess of the Misty Forest.

"High Priestess, I am ready to return, to resume my life as a witch, and to inherit your position."

"Are you certain?" Her voice was laced with anticipation. "That's wonderful. Among all the witches, you are the most exceptional. If you return, you will become the next High Priestess of the Misty Forest!"

The witches of the Misty Forest were renowned worldwide for their unparalleled healing abilities, revered as divine figures with the power to bring the dead back to life.

But to accept this role meant a lifetime confined to the forest, never to leave again.

"I've made up my mind," I said firmly. "I will never leave the forest again."

"Very well," she replied, her voice resolute. "From this moment on, you are my successor—the next High Priestess of the Misty Forest."