Lisa’s POV
The glass in my hand caught the light as I swirled the dark wine slowly, watching it stain the crystal. The restaurant was quiet, lit by soft golden light. I’d chosen a private booth in the corner where no one could overhear.
Then she walked in.
Ria.
We looked nothing alike. She was pale and ethereal, auburn hair flowing in waves down her back. She had that strange glow that witches carried in their blood.
We were step-sisters. Same father, different mothers. Her mother—a witch. Mine—a werewolf.
The story between our parents was messy, tragic, and stained with betrayal. My father had fallen for her mother, a witch whose beauty could make a man forget his vows. When my mother found out, she went mad with rage. She threatened to kill the witch and her unborn child if my fa
