Serena’s hands still trembled from her confrontation with Hart in the field, his ultimatum—reject Gary and Jack by tomorrow or face exposure as a fire witch—ringing in her ears. She barely slept, the *Lineage of Fire Witches* hidden beneath her pillow, its secrets both a lifeline and a noose. By morning, the weight of Hart’s threat pressed down on her, but so did a growing fire in her chest. She wasn’t ready to surrender.
The Sloan mansion buzzed with activity as Serena descended the stairs, her worn sneakers silent against the polished stone. Servants scurried about, preparing for some event, their whispers hushed as she passed. She caught snippets of their chatter—something about the Intercollegiate Hockey Championship, the Blood Moon Pack’s pride. Her stomach churned. Hart was captain
