Vanessa sat at the kitchen table, scrolling anxiously through her phone. The cramped apartment smelled faintly of stale coffee and old takeout. Mark leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, eyes narrowed as he stared at the flickering light from the cracked window.“It’s been days, Vanessa,” Mark said quietly, breaking the silence. “We still haven’t heard from Alissa. Where the hell is she?”Vanessa slammed her phone down, frustration boiling over. “She’s probably with that witch Emilia. That girl’s trouble — always was. If Alissa’s gone missing, it’s because Emilia dragged her into that mess.”Mark didn’t respond. He never told Vanessa about the supernatural things he knew — the witches, the werewolves — not because he didn’t want to, but because it would only make Vanessa more paranoid, more hostile toward Emilia.“You’re always defending that girl,” Vanessa snapped. “She’s nothing but trouble. If Alissa’s missing, it’s Emilia’s fault. She’s been here long enough to ruin everything
Thunder cracked over the mountains as Dante and Caelum stepped into the hollowed ruins hidden beneath the cliffs. The air shimmered with old magic, thick and unnatural, and Dante's senses prickled with unease. They had parted ways with Luka and the others at the fork in the forest hours ago—it had to be this way. He needed to be the one to find her.And she was here.Lenora’s presence was unmistakable. It seeped into the very stones, ancient and spiteful. But Emilia’s scent lingered too, fragile and recent, the thread that had kept Dante moving even as his body begged to collapse.They entered a chamber lit only by floating embers of magic. Lenora stood near the far wall, draped in crimson robes, her expression unreadable. But her eyes blazed when she saw them.Emilia stood beside her, bound not by rope but by a wall of spells. Her posture was tense, defensive, and when her eyes found Dante’s, there was a flicker of something—hope, pain, confusion.Dante’s heart clenched."Let her go,
The path sloped downward into the Hollow, an ancient network of tunnels buried beneath the Bloodmoon territory. Cold stone pressed in from all sides, the walls etched with forgotten spells and sealed runes. The air was thick, damp with old magic and secrecy.Dante moved swiftly at the front, eyes scanning every shadow. Behind him followed Caelum, his presence silent but watchful. Luka and two other trusted guards flanked them, weapons drawn, senses alert."Still no sign of her scent," Luka muttered, his voice low but strained. "But the wards down here are fresh. Someone's been keeping this place alive."Dante nodded, jaw clenched. His muscles coiled like a spring, the predator in him pacing beneath his skin. Every step down felt like walking into a trap—and yet, they had no choice."We don't stop until we find her," he said, barely above a growl.They turned a corner, entering a wide chamber veined with luminescent moss. The ceiling arched high, almost like a forgotten cathedral, and
Deep beneath the Hollow, where time felt warped and light struggled to survive, Lenora stood before a pool of blackened glass. The walls of the chamber trembled faintly with the magic she had summoned — old, dangerous magic. Magic that should have stayed buried.Emilia lay nearby, motionless but alive, suspended in a slumber induced by Lenora’s binding spell. Her brow twitched now and then, lips murmuring things Lenora couldn’t quite catch.It had taken effort to keep the girl alive.More effort than Lenora had anticipated.She hadn't expected the bond between Dante and Emilia to be so strong — a mate bond not yet fully sealed, but powerful enough to resist her enchantments. Still, she’d managed. Barely.The air shifted suddenly. The black glass before her rippled, revealing the flicker of a hooded figure — one of her watchers."My lady," the voice crackled, distorted through the scrying pool. "You were right. He came."Lenora’s fingers tensed. “Who?”“Caelum.”The name was a blade ac
Celeste sat at the end of the long mahogany table in the east wing, a porcelain teacup untouched in front of her. The scent of rose petals filled the air, but the bitter taste of recent events lingered like ash on her tongue.She’d heard the news within moments of Caelum’s arrival. He was alive. He’d returned. How convenient.“Do you believe it?” Seraphina’s voice cut through the silence, cold and sharp. She paced the length of the room like a caged wolf. Her crimson cloak trailed behind her, brushing the marble floor with every frustrated step.Celeste’s eyes narrowed. “That he’s alive? Yes. That he’s innocent?” She snorted. “Not for a second.”Seraphina turned sharply, eyes gleaming. “Then why is Dante allowing him to stay? Why hasn’t he thrown him into the dungeons?”“Because Dante is desperate,” Celeste said, fingers tracing the rim of her cup. “And desperation blinds even the strongest of men.”Seraphina crossed her arms, fuming. “All of this — the Blood Moon, the witches, the a
The aftermath of the Blood Moon Festival hung over the Clan like a suffocating fog. What should’ve been a night of celebration and unity had ended in fire, betrayal, and silence.And Emilia was gone.The estate was quieter now. Servants moved with bowed heads. Warriors sharpened blades they hadn’t needed in decades. No one dared speak Dante’s name in vain. Not since he’d torn through the forest the night she vanished, bloodied and near feral, only to return empty-handed.But somewhere beyond the mist and wards of the clan, someone else was returning.A black SUV pulled up just outside the enchanted boundary line, its engine quieting as a tall figure stepped out. The man’s presence felt like a disturbance in the air—older, colder, and familiar in a way the land couldn’t ignore.He stood still for a moment, head tilted back, as though breathing in memory. Then he walked toward the gate.Two sentries stepped forward, shifting partially into wolf form.“Stop,” the elder one commanded. “St