Supreme Warlock System : From Zero to Ultimate With My Wives-Chapter 144: Hex Him!

Warlock Ch 144. Hex Him!

Fenrith let out a low growl, and Damian glanced at him, almost as if expecting an answer. The wolf simply stared, his eyes steady and unwavering.

Damian sighed, his shoulders slumping. "Or did she just… misunderstand me?" he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. The memories felt incomplete, jagged like broken glass. He couldn't reconcile the person he was now with the fragments of Kaelan he remembered. The anger, the arrogance, the power—it all felt foreign, like wearing someone else's skin.

"What am I supposed to do, Fenrith?" Damian asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't ignore the past, but the more I dig, the worse it feels. What if Cassius is right? What if I was just a monster who thought he was justified?"

Fenrith's middle head growled softly, while the left one nudged Damian's knee. It wasn't much, but it was enough to pull Damian out of his spiral, if only slightly.

"Thanks, buddy," Damian said, managing a faint smile as he gave Fenrith's right head an affectionate rub. "At least you don't think I'm completely hopeless."

The three-headed wolf huffed in response. The middle head let out a low growl, and the left head nudged Damian's shoulder. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep him grounded, to keep the storm in his head from swallowing him whole.

The walk back to the house was quiet, almost serene—if he ignored the fact that Damian's thoughts were spinning like a hamster on caffeine. The fresh air helped, though. He could feel the tension slowly bleeding out of his shoulders. Fenrith padded beside him, his massive frame steady and reassuring. At least someone in this mess had their life together.

By the time they reached the house, Damian let out a long breath, pushing open the door. The scent of herbs and something sweet wafted out, immediately soothing his frayed nerves.

"Welcome back!" Evelyn's cheerful voice rang out from the kitchen. A moment later, she appeared in the doorway, a dish towel slung over her shoulder. Her smile was as bright as ever, but her eyes scanned Damian like a worried mom checking her kid for bruises after a playground fight.

"Hey," Damian said, forcing a grin as he stepped inside. He tugged at his dirt-smudged shirt, trying to look a little less like he'd just gone twelve rounds with caffeinated shadows. "We're back."

Evelyn's gaze shifted to Fenrith, who was still carrying the bag of books on his back like a very grumpy pack mule. "And what happened to you two? You look like you got dragged through a battlefield."

"Close enough," Damian said with a laugh, scratching the back of his head. "Cassius had… let's call it a 'passionate training session.'"

Evelyn's brow furrowed, and she crossed her arms. "Passionate, huh? Did it involve throwing you into another gauntlet of death?"

Damian chuckled nervously. "Define 'death.'"

Evelyn let out an exasperated sigh, reaching out to ruffle his already messy hair. "Should I talk to him?"

"Or you can hex that smug mentor of mine," Damian teased, dropping the bag of books onto the floor with a heavy thud. Fenrith let out a relieved huff and padded off by the fireplace.

Despite the teasing grin on his face, Damian could feel Evelyn's eyes boring into him. She always saw through his act, but she didn't push—not yet, anyway. Instead, she waved him toward the couch.

"Go sit. I'll make you some tea," she said, already heading back to the kitchen.

Damian collapsed onto the couch with a groan, his head falling back against the cushions. His muscles screamed for rest, but his brain? Oh, it was wide awake, spinning in circles like a hamster hyped up on energy drinks.

He rubbed his face with both hands, trying to scrub away the weight of the day.

Evelyn came with the tea and handed it to Damian, her brows knit in quiet concern. "Is everything okay? Except Cassius' training?" she asked, her voice calm but probing.

Damian took the mug, letting the warmth seep into his hands. He sighed and stared into the tea as if it might hold some answers.

"I just met Aria," he said finally, his voice quiet.

Evelyn froze. She perched on the arm of the couch beside him, her posture tense but her face calm. "Did she hurt you?" she asked, her tone steady but laced with an edge.

Damian shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "No. Not yet, anyway."

Evelyn's gaze sharpened, her eyes searching his face for something unspoken. "What do you mean 'not yet'? What happened?"

"She doesn't know who I am," Damian admitted, his smile turning grim. "At least, I don't think she does. But if she ever figures it out…" His voice trailed off, and he took a slow sip of tea, letting the warmth calm his frayed nerves. "If she knew, Evelyn, she'd kill me. No hesitation."

Evelyn didn't say anything, but the slight flicker in her expression told him enough. She didn't deny it, and that silence hit harder than any words could have. She wasn't the type to sugarcoat things—not when it mattered. And right now, her lack of denial felt like confirmation.

"Great," Damian muttered, his voice tinged with sarcasm. "That's exactly the kind of reassurance I needed."

Evelyn frowned, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. "You don't know that for sure, Damian. Aria might not—"

"She would," Damian cut her off, his voice sharper than he intended. He sighed and set the mug down on the table, rubbing his temples. "Trust me, Evelyn. If she finds out Kaelan Voidweaver is alive and kicking, she's not going to stop until I'm six feet under. And honestly? I wouldn't blame her."

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Evelyn's lips pressed into a thin line. "You're not Kaelan anymore. You're Damian Blackthorn. That matters."

"Does it?" Damian shot back, his tone raw. "To you, maybe. But to Aria? To the people Kaelan wronged? I'm just wearing a new name, Evelyn. The sins don't disappear just because I got a second chance or rebirth."