My Pups’ Blood for His Lover
Anya backed out of the room, shivering.
Isolde walked back to the mirror, staring at the increasingly unfamiliar face staring back at her.
"Willow," she licked her cracked lips. "You stole my Rowan, stole my place as Luna, and now you have stolen my face."
"Then I will steal your child."
"That makes us even."
When Anya returned, she was holding a tiny crystal vial. The liquid inside was a thick, dark red, like half-congealed blood.
"The Crone Hesta said," Anya's voice trembled, "this single drop is enough to grant a pregnant Luna, and her pup, a peaceful death."