The Alpha King's Hated Mate
Her face was old, shriveled by time and power, eyes cloudy but sharp.
“You’re late,” the witch rasped.
Adriana stepped forward, yanking down her hood. “You’re lucky I came at all.”
The witch’s mouth curved slightly, amused. “Desperation makes even wolves crawl.”
Adriana’s eyes glinted. “I don’t crawl. And I don’t wait.”
The witch turned then, slow and measured, and retrieved a small glass from beneath the altar—a swirling liquid the color of moonlight tinged with violet.
“This is what you asked for. Memory binding. Heart stitching. He’ll forget her... see only you. But once it starts, it cannot be undone.”