Tabitha’s POV
The lake house felt stifling, every flicker of candlelight casting shadows that danced with an unsettling rhythm. I stood in the center of the room, my eyes fixed on the ancient grimoire spread open before me. Mathias, Ronan’s enigmatic warlock friend, worked with calm precision, drawing intricate runes on the floor. His every movement radiated practiced ease, as though this dark magic was as natural to him as breathing.
I didn’t trust him. I didn’t trust anyone these days. But trust wasn’t a luxury we could afford. We needed him, and he knew it.
“Are you sure this will work?” I asked, keeping my voice measured, though unease bubbled just beneath the surface.
Mathias glanced at me, his dark eyes unreadable. “It will work,” he said evenly, returning to his task. “The quest
