Harley’s P.O.V.I had always thought strength meant clenched fists, sharp claws, and the ability to stand alone no matter how heavy the world became.That was how I was raised among the werewolves, where power was measured in muscle and dominance. You fought your own battles. You bled, healed, and moved on. Asking for help, especially from a witch, was whispered about like a shameful secret. Magic was for the weak, for those who couldn’t defend themselves.On the other hand, vampires were nothing like us. They lived on secrets and shadows, on mind games and rituals whispered in candlelight.Where werewolves trusted brute force, vampires trusted spells, contracts, and ancient magic older than any pack law. Calling a witch wasn’t a last resort for them; it was routine.And now here I was, sitting inside a salt circle like a fragile human, waiting for magic to decide my fate.I exhaled slowly, my palms resting against my knees as the cold grains of salt pressed into my skin. Candles sur
Last Updated : 2026-01-11 Read more