Chapter 15 - Samuel's POV
The abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of my territory reeked of fear and desperation—exactly the atmosphere I preferred for important meetings. My rogues had done excellent work converting it into a temporary command center, complete with maps, surveillance equipment, and holding cells for any prisoners we might take. But the most important feature was the ritual circle carved into the concrete floor, inlaid with silver and obsidian. It was there that my ancestor waited, her pale form seeming to absorb the dim light rather than reflect it. "You're late," Morgana said without turning around. She stood in the center of the circle, her hands weaving complex patterns in the air as she maintained her connection to the girl. "Traffic," I replied sarcastically, though I kept my tone respect
- Writer
