Sparkle
The potion was finally done.
A faint swirl of silver smoke curled from the mouth of the vial, its soft spiral disappearing into the candlelit shadows of my cottage. It shimmered with the telltale gleam of a suppression compound—but this one was different.
Stronger. More binding. More final.
I studied the vial for a long moment, feeling the heat of its power through the glass. The magic thrummed beneath my fingertips like a living pulse.
This time, Zara would not wake.
Not accidentally. Not through mate bonds. Not with the help of those meddling witches.
The last potion had only dulled her senses.
This one would bury her wolf—and the truth about who she was—permanently.
But I needed to act now.
The stirrings I felt in the air, the way the ley lines cracked and shifted nea
