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Bathroom Sinks And Magical Things
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2026-01-13 13:16:17The smell of the dormitory was usually a mix of cheap coffee and Sophie’s excessive hairspray, but tonight, it was being overtaken by the acrid, metallic tang of Anna’s concoction.
"Anna! Seriously, come out! You’ve been 'exfoliating' for an hour and I need you to see the shoes!" Sophie’s voice was a high-pitched vibrato of pure joy. She was practically vibrating on the other side of the bathroom door.
Inside, Anna was hunched over the sink. The porcelain was stained with a dark, oily residue as she ground the silver-pressed salt into the wolfsbane distillate. Every time her skin touched the mixture, it hissed, a stinging reminder of the "abomination" she was. To a human, this would just be a pungent, herbal perfume. To a wolf, it was a biological blackout.
"One minute, Soph!" Anna called back, her voice tight.
She reached for the final ingredient—a drop of her own blood to bind the scent-mask to her specific DNA. As she pricked her finger and let the ruby drop fall into the vial, the air in the small bathroom began to hum. The glass of the vanity mirror started to vibrate, a low-frequency growl that matched the rising tension in Anna’s chest. The magic was resisting the suppression. It didn't want to be hidden; it wanted to scream.
The vibration reached a crescendo, a hairline crack spidering across the corner of the mirror with a sharp snap.
The oil turned clear. It was done.
Anna let out a breath she’d been holding since Asheville. She bottled the liquid and opened the door to find Sophie standing there, looking like a sunlight-drenched dream.
"Finally!" Sophie squealed. She was already wearing her dress—a shimmering, ice-blue silk that turned her green eyes into emeralds. "Look! It’s the color of a winter sky. And look at yours!"
Sophie draped a garment bag over the chair. Inside was the dress from the website: The Shadow’s Grace. In person, the midnight emerald fabric looked like liquid forest floor, dark and deep and dangerous.
"I got it as a gift. For everything," Sophie said, her voice softening for a second. "For being the only person who stayed when everyone else left. You're going to be the most beautiful girl there, Anna. Killian won't know what hit him."
"He's not going to 'hit' anything," Anna muttered, but she took the vial and rubbed a drop behind Sophie’s ears. "Here. Wear this. It’s a... custom scent I made. It’ll keep the 'creep factor' down at the party. Don't wash it off."
"Ooh, smells like rain and expensive secrets," Sophie giggled, dabbing more on her wrists. "I love it."
Twelve miles away, in the obsidian-tiled gym of Blackwood Manor.
Killian Blackwood sent a heavy punching bag flying with a blow that would have shattered a human’s ribs. He was drenched in sweat, his skin steaming in the cold air of the training room.
He was irritable. No, he was feral.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that flash of blue. Every time he breathed, he searched for the scent of thunderstorm and graveyard, but the memory was fading, tantalizingly out of reach. He had spent the last forty-eight hours obsessing over the girl from the frat house.
He didn't just want to dance with her. He wanted to pin her against a wall and tear the secrets out of her throat. He wanted to claim whatever power was humming inside her and lock it in a cage where only he had the key.
"Sir?" a young Beta whispered from the doorway, sensing the Alpha's volatile mood. "The guest list for the 21st is finalized. The human 'guests' have been vetted."
Killian stopped, his chest heaving, his claws slowly retracting into his knuckles. He thought of Anna Jameson. He thought of the way she had looked at him,with a fear that was wrapped in a challenge.
"Ensure the Jameson girl is prioritized," Killian said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "I want her in the North Wing. Away from the noise."
He wanted to taste her. He wanted to keep her. And God help anyone;man, wolf, or witch,who tried to get in his way.
Último capítulo
Half Blood Shadow There's no place like ... .where am I?
The sedan moved through the mountain fog like a ghost, the engine’s hum the only sound in a cabin thick with unspoken tension. They were headed toward the fringe of the city, a place where the supernatural bled into the mundane, and where the old crone’s shop stood as a neutral waypoint between worlds.The geopolitical landscape of North Carolina had shifted overnight. Usually, the territorial boundaries between packs were strictly enforced, but the current situation was so volatile that the neighboring clans had retreated behind their borders. The combination of a Blackwood civil war, a Devonshire massacre, and the resurrection of McKinnley necromancy was a toxic cocktail. No one,not even the Warlock Council, notorious for their interference,wanted to be the third party in a bloodbath involving the "Gray."In the backseat, Anna was a statue. She was pulling at the threads of her lineage, sorting through the ancestral "Concentration" that now lived in her marrow. Beside her, Killian w
Half Blood Shadow Nothing Else Matters
The transition from the warmth of the baths to the freezing air of the war room was jarring. The sun reached its zenith, casting long, harsh shadows across the maps spread out on the central table. Julian was already there. He hadn't slept; his eyes were ringed with red, and the air around him was so cold that frost had begun to patterns the edges of the mahogany table.He didn't offer greetings. He simply pointed to a jagged line on the parchment."The Lich-Alpha’s power is tied to the Ley-Nodes," Julian rasped, his voice sounding like breaking ice. "The sun will weaken his grip on the dead, but it won't stop the 'peeling.' If we don't breach the cabin by nightfall, Sophie won't just be dead. She’ll be a shell."Anna stepped forward, her black leather armor buckled tight, her McKinnley eyes glowing with a quiet, lethal intensity. "We don't go for the cabin first. We go for the anchor. If we don't destroy the object Asmodeus left in the Labyrinth, he'll just keep regenerating. We have
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The heavy oak doors of Blackwood Manor groaned shut, sealing out the stench of rot, but the silence inside was louder than the war outside. Julian did not speak. He didn't look back at the broken fountain or the blood-stained snow. He moved like a ghost of a king, his footsteps echoing up the marble stairs until the click of his bedroom door signaled his retreat into a private, freezing hell.They had to wait. The Lich-Alpha was a creature of the moon and the grave; they would strike when the sun was at its zenith, using the solar light to peel back the necrotic shadows that shielded him.Anna felt as though her skin were vibrating. The concentration of McKinnley spirits she had channeled left her nerves raw, her senses overloaded. She retreated to the bathing chambers, a cavernous room of white stone and deep, sunken pools fed by the manor’s thermal springs.She shed the silver-lined armor, her hands trembling as the leather hit the floor. The steam rose in thick, white clouds, smell
Half Blood Shadow The Way Back
The air in the courtyard, once crisp with winter, turned rancid. It was the smell of a shallow grave opened in mid-July;cloying, sweet, and utterly wrong.Asmodeus didn’t look like a defeated man. He looked like a man who had been waiting for the exact moment of his greatest humiliation to unleash his greatest atrocity. With a trembling, blood-slicked hand, he brought a vial of glowing, sickly green liquid to his cracked lips."Your mother was so talented," he rasped, his eyes bulging as the potion began to take effect. "I didn't just kill her, Anna. I took her. I kept her for days ….years even in the cellar of the old cabin, peeling the magic from her skin like fruit. She begged for you... and while she begged, she taught me the secrets of the McKinnley grave-speak. She taught me Necromancy."He downed the liquid.The transformation was a horror. Asmodeus’s skin didn't shift; it sloughed. His fur fell out in clumps of wet rot, revealing gray, translucent muscle and bone. He grew, but
Half Blood Shadow The Art of War
The descent down the grand staircase of Blackwood Manor felt like a march through time itself. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and ancient stone. As Anna’s silver-lined boots clicked against the black marble, the psychic tether between her and Killian flared, triggered by the weight of the coming war.Suddenly, the present blurred.Through the bond with Killian, Anna was pulled into a hereditary memory—a ghost of the manor’s blood-soaked past. She saw the foyer as it was seventy years ago, bathed in the orange glow of torchfire.Descending these same stairs was Lachlan Blackwood, the brothers' grandfather. He was a mountain of a man, his Alpha aura so potent it made the shadows dance. Waiting for him at the base of the stairs, flanked by snarling, red-pelted wolves, was Arhen Devonshire—a patriarch whose cruelty made the current air feel cold.Arhen had come for his own son, Niall. Niall had committed the ultimate Devonshire sin: he had fallen for a mortal woman, a soft-hear
Half Blood Shadow Clear
The mist of the In-Between shifted, swirling from the cold stone of the Manor back into the suffocating humidity of an Appalachian summer 21 years ago.Anna wasn't a warrior here; she was a weight in a car seat, her tiny lungs stinging with the scent of burnt sage and gasoline. Through the rear window, she saw the dark SUVs of the Blackwood Clan weaving through the trees, closing the distance.Her mother, Elara, was a fever of motion in the driver’s seat. She was screaming incantations, her knuckles white on the wheel, her eyes wide with a terror that Anna had always misinterpreted. Anna had spent a lifetime believing those wolves were hunters.But as the memory slowed, the perspective shifted. She saw the lead Blackwood Enforcer,a younger, scarred version of the men she’d seen at the Gala,reaching out a hand, not to strike, but to signal a defensive formation. They weren't there to kill the hybrid child. They were the secret guard, sent by the Blackwood Alpha to honor a blood-pact ma
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