The Villainess Winning Back Her Beast Husbands-Chapter 67: Why Don’t You Just Die Already?

Thorne withdrew his gaze, his dark green eyes sweeping coolly over Elias Moretti’s sinister expression.

With Evangeline gone, he seemed to revert to the old Thorne—a man steeped in a dark, ruthless aura. His eyes were sharp and indifferent, like poisoned blades, and a bone-chilling presence enveloped him.

Elias Moretti lifted his chin slightly, his scarlet eyes dark as he returned the chilling gaze.

"Don’t get any ideas about her."

Thorne’s voice was low and icy, the few words laced with an undisguised warning.

At these words, a mocking smirk slowly spread across Elias Moretti’s lips.

He tilted his head, looking Thorne up and down with contempt, as if sizing up an ignorant fool. ’He doesn’t even know who she is, yet he dares to warn me?’

’Heh, I’m actually starting to look forward to it now—the day Thorne learns Evangeline’s true identity.’

Meeting Elias Moretti’s contemptuous gaze, Thorne’s dark green eyes narrowed. A dark glint flickered within them, and a murderous intent flashed and vanished. "What do you know?"

Elias Moretti suddenly chuckled and gave a careless shrug.

He lifted his pale, slender fingers, tapped his throat lightly, and turned to walk back into the tribe.

Elias Moretti walked with an unhurried gait, as if the tense standoff had never happened. But that meaningful gesture before he left made Thorne’s hand clench tightly, and the oppressive atmosphere lingered long after.

*

With a light push of her toes, Evangeline’s figure darted through the trees like a swallow.

Though Lachlan was blind, his steps were perfectly steady, and he skillfully navigated around every obstacle in his path.

The Frost-plain Tribe was a fair distance from the Grymdale Tribe. The farther north they traveled, the more bone-chilling the cold became.

Lush green blades of grass gradually gave way to withered stalks. Two days later, the silhouette of a continuous mountain range loomed in the twilight. It was hard to imagine that the climate of Norfell could be so sharply divided during the hunting season.

The white puffs of Evangeline’s breath condensed into frost on her eyelashes. She took out a fur cloak and draped it over her shoulders.

To reach the snowy mountains of the Frost-plain Tribe, they had to cross a chasm. A thick, round log served as a bridge. It was wide, but a layer of slick ice coated its surface, making the crossing a terrifying prospect.

Evangeline followed Lachlan, watching as he calmly stepped onto the log bridge. A frigid wind, carrying flurries of snow, swirled the Bone Ornament in his hair. From behind, he looked utterly composed, as if he were the master of this perilous, snow-capped mountain.

’Watching Lachlan from behind, Evangeline suddenly understood why the body’s previous owner had been so fond of him.’

’This male lead certainly has a captivating charm.’

Evangeline stood at her end of the log as the mountain wind swept flurries of snow across the soft fur of her cloak.

Suddenly, Lachlan’s tall, slender figure faltered on the log. In the next instant, a vine snare pulled taut, and he plunged toward the abyss below. His flaxen hair and Bone Ornament whipped about in the gale.

His foot was caught in the vine snare, leaving him hanging upside down in mid-air.

Loud laughter echoed from the other side of the chasm. "HAHAHA! Lachlan, did you find a Witch?"

"I’m telling you, the Frost-plain Tribe is on the brink of destruction. Why even bother? You’re just a bunch of good-for-nothings tainted by a plague’s curse. You should all just die!"

"Who did he go begging to? Don’t tell me it was that contracted Virago of his? HAHAHA—"

"When someone from the Frost-plain Tribe dies, I bet even the Snow Vultures on the mountain won’t touch the corpse!"

"..."

Vicious taunts, carried on the frigid wind, reached Evangeline’s ears.

She glanced at Lachlan, who was hanging upside down like a corpse, then pursed her lips. Her gaze shifted to the Beastmen gleefully shaking the vine, reveling in the torture. A nameless anger flared within her.

’Snow Leopards are the apex predators of these mountains, and the Frost-plain Tribe was once powerful. To think they’ve fallen to this...’

A cold glint flashed in Evangeline’s eyes. The Cold Frost Whip shot out, carving a sharp arc through the snow and frost.

The long whip coiled around Lachlan’s waist. With a flick of her wrist, she yanked him back from the air. Then, with a light push of her feet, Evangeline leaped, soaring across the chasm and landing gracefully on the other side with Lachlan in her arms.

Lachlan’s vacant eyes stared at Evangeline, as if he were looking at a distant nightmare.

His body was tense, utterly rigid. A look of almost savage disgust suddenly twisted his aloof features.

Evangeline started to speak, but the look of disgust on his face left her speechless.

Just then, Lachlan’s entire body convulsed. He suddenly retched, then shoved her away with all his might, stumbling backward as if trying to escape something more terrifying than death itself.

Evangeline frowned and glanced down at her hands. ’Am I poisonous?’

The group of Beastmen who had been tormenting Lachlan snapped out of their shock. Staring at Evangeline, one of them shrieked, "A Witch... It’s a Witch! That female is a Witch! Run—"

In an instant, the group shifted into their beast forms and scattered in every direction.

Only then did Evangeline get a clear look at them. They were a pack of Marmot Beastmen.

’Marmots are at the bottom of the food chain in these mountains. I can’t believe they’d dare to bully a Snow Leopard Beastman like that.’

Evangeline’s gaze turned cold. But as she turned to look at Lachlan, a sharp bone knife was already at her throat. The gleaming blade cut through the air, startling a stray lock of hair at her cheek.

In a flash, she reacted, spinning low and kicking out with precision, her toe striking Lachlan on the wrist bone.

The bone knife landed in the thick snow with a dull thud, a sound that mirrored Evangeline’s current mood.

Her gaze fell to Lachlan’s limp wrist.

She had kicked him too hard. His wrist was broken, the hand twisted at an unnatural angle.

The rotting tribal totem on the back of his hand was exposed, looking especially foul against the white snow.

Lachlan was trembling, but not from the pain. His black-hole eyes were fixed on her face as his pale lips moved, mechanically squeezing out a venomous question: "Why aren’t you dead yet?"

Evangeline’s eyelid twitched. An ominous suspicion suddenly struck her.

She tilted her head, a strange light in her eyes. "You can see through my disguise?"

’The Disguise Pill is an artifact from the World of Immortals. It’s been foolproof on the Beastman Continent—even Caden Albright with his Eight-Star Pattern couldn’t see through it. I can’t believe Lachlan identified me after just a moment of contact.’

’Could this be what people mean when they say the blind see more clearly? That though the eyes are blind, the heart perceives all?’

Silently, Lachlan hunched over, his fingers digging deep into the snow as he fumbled for the bone knife.

His movements were slow and stiff, like a puppet with snapped strings. Yet he stubbornly thrust the blade at Evangeline again and again, even with a broken wrist, even with a blade long since frozen dull.

"Is there no end to this?" Evangeline finally exploded with rage after kicking the bone knife from his hand for the fourth time.

Her face was a cold mask. She formed a hand seal, and a stream of light shot into the center of Lachlan’s forehead.

His body went rigid, and his arm dropped limply to his side. A dazed, vacant look spread across his face.

’Evangeline had always disdained using such methods on her targets, but Lachlan was just too persistent, too annoying. Fortunately, with his Star Pattern shattered, he was completely at her mercy. The Enchanting Spell took effect without any effort.’

"Let’s go. Back to the Frost-plain Tribe. Tell your tribespeople I’m the Witch you brought back from the Grymdale Tribe."

She looked at Lachlan, her face grim.